Ancient rocks from a pressure-built seamount at mid-Channel come up periodically, attached to hooks dropped down by fisherfolk. They are different from other rocks I’ve seen and quite fascinating.
One rock, in particular, came up rather spectacularly. Some years ago, we were fishing the area we call the 12-Mile, which is a bulging seamount roughly 12 miles from Santa Barbara. I just love these simplistic naming conventions. You can probably guess how far out the 4-Mile reef is!
We are currently unable to fish over 300 feet down, so we cannot fish this spot now; however, fisheries managers are seeing the effort that recreational anglers are putting into releasing rockfish at depths where they recover from barotrauma and live and thrive, plus best available science is showing that rockfish and especially lingcod populations are very strong, so we may again soon be able to fish the 12-Mile.
My passenger, Joe, lifted his sturdy rod and felt something heavy, so he swung and set the hook as hard as he could (not a good idea). He yanked and tugged and pulled against the heavy weight and finally began to gain some line. He then wildly lifted his rod and reeled down in rapid movements without cadence or slowing to feel what was on his line. He hooted and hollered about how big this fish was and how it was fighting him hard. He kept pumping and reeling like a wild man.
Capt. Tiffany Vague (my crew member) and I looked at each other and smiled. We both knew that there hadn’t been any telltale head tosses from a fish. What Joe was feeling were the results of his own wild actions.
When it finally came to color (came close enough to the surface that we could see it), Capt. Tiffany quietly slid her net under Joe’s catch and brought aboard … (drumroll, please) … a 10-pound rock. Joe was dumbfounded and wondered how his fish could turn into a rock. I doubt his buddies will ever let Joe live that one down!
I kept that rock on my boat for a long while because it was fascinating. It was very porous, with holes and crevices, which helped explain why it was fairly light for its size. For the rest of the day, as the rock dried, critters kept climbing out of the many openings. Some of the critters I knew, such as brittlestars, but others I had never encountered, which added to the fascination of the rock.
I just love most of the surprises the sea gives up.
— Capt. David Bacon operates WaveWalker Charters and is president of SOFTIN Inc., a nonprofit organization providing seafaring opportunities for those in need. Visit softininc.blogspot.com to learn more about the organization and how you can help. Click here to read previous columns. The opinions expressed are his own.
