Old Bait Shop Now a Can of Worms

Bart’s Bait, a wooden shack not much bigger than an elevator by an aging pier in Dana Point Harbor, has dished out hot dogs and coffee -- along with frozen anchovies and fishhooks -- to generations of surfers, fishermen and beachgoers.

So when its last owner, Paula Hops, quietly retired last month, shuttering Bart’s Bait after 47 years, county officials were left with a tricky challenge: how to replace what had become an institution.

“It’s the end of an era,” said Rod Howorth, 53, a retired Dana Point resident who was a longtime customer and later worked for Hops in Bart’s Bait.

No one would mistake the little building, clad in Cape Cod-style shingles, as an interchangeable cog in the world of commerce.

A shop with this kind of character, especially one that has survived nearly half a century, inevitably means more to people than would a more conventional business, said Carolyn Broadbeck, an assistant professor in psychology at Chapman University.

“These places are markers; they represent symbolic markers that help us go back to events in our life,” Broadbeck said.

Officials with the Orange County Department of Harbors, Beaches and Parks, which owns the building, now must decide what to do with it. Possibilities include leasing it out to a new operator, replacing it with something more elaborate -- or scrapping it altogether.

Architecturally, it’s not worth keeping. The building, barely 10 by 25 feet, needs major renovation to meet health and safety codes.

Parks director Kevin Thomas said his department had received telephone calls from people interested in the site, though not the original building -- a suggestion that leaves Bart’s Bait devotees wondering how the county could consider destroying the old structure.

“You can’t,” said Gerry Whitney, 84, of Laguna Niguel, one of the harbor’s many daily walkers. “I used to bring my grandchildren here.”

One idea being floated is a gift shop. Some prospective operators, Thomas said, have questioned the idea of selling both bait and food, as Bart’s Bait had done for years.

The original stand at the pier’s tip was built by the late R.E. “Reb” Bridgham, a distinguished-looking man who opened the bait and sandwich shop in 1958.

In those days, the fishing was great. Nearby kelp beds attracted halibut, bass and other fish and helped keep Bridgham busy catering to fishermen. Abalone also were plentiful.

On weekends, the pier was a place to watch surfers riding the point, known as “Killer Dana.” But that changed when the county built the breakwater and marina in the late 1960s.

Bridgham sold the shop to Keith Bartley, who owned a dive shop called Black Bart’s. He christened it Bart’s Bait.

Tom Archbold, a one-time savings and loan manager in Dana Point, remembers spending time on the pier and whiling away the hours talking with Bartley.

Bartley and his wife sold mainly frozen bait and tackle to fishermen. Bartley’s wife was the first to sell hot dogs, Archbold said.

“She had a little single-burner stove that she would put on a three-legged stool outside the shop and run an extension cord inside,” Archbold said. “She would boil water for you, and if you wanted a hot dog, she would make it out there.”

Archbold went from customer to owner around 1973, when he bought the stand from Bartley. Under his ownership, the stand became a hangout for local surfers, lifeguards and beach lovers who rented pedal boats and kayaks at the stand.

Hops, now 74, was the most recent owner, adding her special chili to the menu. Her decision to retire after two decades running Bart’s Bait came as a surprise to customers and county officials.

Kevin Learnihan, 49, one of the harbor regulars who had coffee and a hot dog for breakfast before checking his lobster traps, said he also felt sad when he heard of Hops’ retirement.

“Paula would cook everybody their food in the morning and then come out and chat with them outside,” he said.

“How can you replace this?” Learnihan said. “Tear it down and build a big restaurant? The harbor already has enough restaurants.”

Describing her as “old salt,” Howorth said Hops -- who declined to be interviewed for this story -- never liked talking about herself. She preferred making hot dogs and talking to customers.

On her last day, “It was kind of sad, and Paula didn’t let on that this was an emotional thing,” he said. “There are lots of memories here.”