Onshore, the bright orange morning sun has just begun to show behind the towers of Newport Center, nearly 4 miles to the north, as Nick D’Amato falls into a relentless, flailing rhythm aboard his tiny boat. He exhales sharply and his features pinch as he jerks fish after thrashing fish from the rising line with his gloved right hand and flings them into the stern of his boat with his ungloved left. The winch pulling up the line grinds on and on.

Every minute or so, two or three hooks in succession come up empty, giving D’Amato a few seconds to sag back against the gunwale and make the most unnecessary pronouncement of the day. “This, it’s not easy, you know?” Hauling several hundred pounds of fish out of the channel that separates Catalina from the mainland and into a boat 18 feet long—and doing it nearly every day—may qualify as one of the least easy jobs in Orange County. In fact, from an outsider’s perspective, it looks to be slightly less cushy than dismantling unexploded bombs.

D’Amato

But for 14 years, it has been D’Amato’s bread and butter. During that time, he and his little boat have motored out into the channel in fair and foul weather, often working in darkness and fog and wet cold, in high waves and cutting winds and through hours of lonely, muscle-straining work. Still, D’Amato said, it would have been unusual if he had not turned to the fisherman’s life when he arrived in Orange County.

Born and raised in the Sicilian town of Porticello, near Palermo, D’Amato, 42, said that when he came to live in Costa Mesa with his American-born wife Julie, in 1974, he worked for a time for a local electronics company assembling computer boards. Then he discovered the dory fleet and his heritage was revived. His family, he said, has produced fishermen for many generations—“all of them, all the way back.” “When I saw they were fishing here, I said, “That’s what I do. That’s my job.’” And with that, he began his tenure as a doryman, giving up late sleeping, certain income, safe working conditions and unscored hands,

Abstractly, D’Amato’s job is simple. He catches fish and sells them. No time clock, no bosses, no one telling him how to run his business. In reality, however, D’Amato and his fellow dorymen must obey two of the grimmest taskmasters known—nature and public demand. Some days, the waves are too high, or the fish won’t bite, or they catch fish that won’t sell. And even if they have a good day, maybe the customers will stay home and opt for chicken, or they may not want the kind of fish caught that day, or they may not feel like coming out in the wind and the spray and the cold, gray weather, even if the dorymen did. But early in the morning, in the dark, when most people have been asleep for only 3 or 4 hours, D’Amato tows his dory, painted with the Italian tricolor stripes, down to the surf near the Newport Pier to begin another day.

Dory fishermen have been performing this ritual since 1891, when a Portuguese fisherman began selling fish at the beach out of his dory, rather than having them hauled to market. The only substantial difference over the nearly 100 years is that oars have been traded for powerful outboard motors on the boats. Currently, there are 16 fishermen in the dory fleet, and they are likely unique in California. Don Schultze, a marine resources supervisor for the state Fish and Game Department, which licenses the dory fleet, said, “I don’t believe there’s a comparable fleet elsewhere in the state. It’s a pretty unique operation, launching directly off the beach like that.”

On this day, D’Amato’s lines have been set only about 3 miles off the Newport Beach shore, and it takes less than 10 minutes to motor out to the marker buoy he has left the day before. (Depending on the season and where the best fish can be found, the dorymen sometimes venture 20 miles out to sea.) However, he must first launch his craft and drive it through the shore break at the pier. This morning, the waves are slight, but D’Amato said larger ones do not keep him and his colleagues from their business. Ask about them, though, and you get a quick shake of the head and a groan.  “Pretty big,” he says.

His flat bottomed dory is a quick boat in the calm water, making an estimated 22 knots. D’Amato stands holding the wheel, steering into the gentle oncoming swells, immobile, as if he had been nailed fast to the deck. He wears a knitted cap to keep the wind off but keeps his face into the spray. His hands are so cracked and calloused from years of handling lines and knives and gaffs and fish that a hook wouldn’t dare to try to lodge in them. Several hours of exposure to cold and seawater can soften them and turn them raw, however. The palms and fingertips will soon turn nearly ivory white, especially those on the ungloved left hand.

Today, D’Amato must retrieve only two lines and one unbaited anchor line (other days, he said, he often sets more). But, each line, he said, is about a mile long and is set with about 600 hooks. Also, at intervals along the line are tied both empty glass bottles and half bricks, in order to keep the line relatively stationary in the depths. At today’s spot, the lines are trailing down into about 1,000 feet of water. To raise the line, a hydraulic winch is used, powered by an inboard gas engine. D’Amato stands next to the winch as the line feeds through it, controlling its speed with a short handle. He rarely touches the handle, however, preferring to pluck the fish from the line as they rise to the winch; the line is allowed to trail into a plastic bucket. As the bricks and bottles appear, he quickly unties them or, if the knot will not yield, grabs a nearby knife and cuts them free of the line, tossing them into buckets for use the next day.

For the next two hours, D’Amato’s gaze is focused not on the spectacular dawn or the lovely, glassy sea or the gulls wheeling overhead, but over the starboard side of his boat, about 10 feet below the surface of the green water, where the fish on the line are beginning to appear from the depths.  “Look at this, look at this,” he says, beckoning. “Come here, you got to be quick.” A large red snapper, perhaps 3 feet long, is coming up. For this prize, D’Amato stops the winch, wrestles the fish off the hook and deposits it in the place of honor, on a thwart next to the inboard engine. For the rest of the morning, most of his catch turns out to be sea trout, with a smaller haul of red snapper. As the catch changes, so does his mood.  “Another whitey,” he grumbles as he slings another haddock into the boat. “The people don’t but as many of them. They want the red snapper.” And there are periods when hook after hook rises with the bait nibbled or snatched away cleanly, or with the remains of a fish that has taken the bait only to be mostly eaten or mauled by a still-larger fish.

D’Amato holds up one sea trout that has been almost cleanly bitten in two, nods at a pair of sea lions feeding nearby and shakes his head. “This is what they do. A lot of people out here don’t like them. They’re good animals, and I would never kill one, but sometimes I feel like they cheat me.” Things look up, however, a few minutes later when the second line brings up a steady stream of sea trout.

Finally, the entire available bottom of the boat, along with two plastic tubs, is piled ankle-deep with fish, and D’Amato turns the dory for hoe. The laden boat moves more sluggishly this time. It is about 8:15 a.m. Reaching the shore break in front of the dory fleet’s beach, he guns the motor at the crest of a wave and rides it smoothly in, the boat scraping to a stop in the sand.

His son, Onofrio, 17, arrives quickly with the trailer—not to pull the boat onto shore, but to cart tub after heavy tub of fresh fish a few yards up the beach to the D’Amato family fish stall where, beneath Perrier and Cinzano umbrellas, customers wait. The stall, as well as other dorymen’s stalls, opens for business immediately after the boat returns. While D’Amato weighs the fish and talks with customers, Onofrio cleans the fish at an adjacent cutting board with a flashing knife, turning whole fish into table-ready fillets in seconds. His wife wraps them in butcher paper and newsprint. The selling will go on into the late afternoon, when the other two D’Amato children, Veronica, 15, and Giacomo, 11, often arrive to help wrap fish and attach anchovy bait to the lines to be set for the next day’s catch.

The haul this day, Onofrio said is better than average, perhaps 1,000 pounds of fish. Those that the family does not sell to Oceanside customers will be offered wholesale to restaurants and markets. Income, D’Amato said, is never dependable, and, because competition between them is keen, he and other dorymen are reluctant to discuss it. What with boat repairs, the price of bait and other continuing overhead costs, there are lean times as well as relatively prosperous ones. A good catch, he said, can be followed by several bad ones, and vice versa.

After years of fishing in both Sicily and California, D’Amato has no romantic illusion about his work. He says he believes that the labor has aged him beyond hi years. He does not want or expect to fish into his later years.  However, the family tradition is not likely to end when he hangs up his knit hat for the last time. Onofrio remains excited about the life.  “Onofrio would go out with him when he was about 7 years old,” said Julie D’Amato. “A couple of years ago, he started going out with him all the time. Six months ago, he started going out by himself.”

Today, D’Amato and his son will sometimes spell each other, one setting the lines, the other returning later to haul in the fish. It is a schedule that required special accommodations for the high school-age Onofrio. He attends Back Bay High School in Newport Beach and is enrolled in a program that allows him to attend classes once a week, at which time a week’s worth of homework will be assigned for him to complete after working hours. “I like fishing,” he said. “I’ve liked it since I was real young. It’s a real challenge to see how much fish you can actually get under all conditions.” He has had close calls in his young career, “Oh, yeah, plenty in bad weather,” he said. “It’s scary. Sometimes, you wonder if you can make it in. The winds get so strong and the swells get so big. But you feel like you’ve accomplished something; that’s for sure.” —Patrick Mott, Los Angeles Times, May 6, 1989

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Additional articles on the history of the Newport Beach Dory Fleet

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Through The years 

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-through-the-years/

 The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #1 — 1934

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-1/

 The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #2 — 1950

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-2-—-1950/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #3 — 1969

 http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-3-—-1969/

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-3-—-1969/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #4 — 1971

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-4-—-1971/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #5 — 1973

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-5-—-1973/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #6 — 1988

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-6-—-1988/

]]> http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-%e2%80%94-looking-back-7-%e2%80%94-1989/feed/ 0 http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-%e2%80%94-looking-back-6-%e2%80%94-1988/ http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-%e2%80%94-looking-back-6-%e2%80%94-1988/#comments Thu, 15 Mar 2018 22:00:17 +0000 kenjones http://kenjonesfishing.com/?p=17904 Dory Fishermen’s Catch of the Day Is Certain to Be Fresh

Want to know if Nick D’Amato’s fish are fresh? Shake hands with him. One solid grip will tell you that he pulled his catch of red snapper and sea trout out of the Catalina Channel maybe three hours before. They are the hands of a fisherman, a man who brought his trade from his native Italy to Newport Beach, who sails on the sea each day in his tiny dory as other Southern Californians negotiate the freeways.

Every morning, nearly every day of the year, around 4 a.m., D’Amata and several of his fellow Newport Beach dory fishermen motor their little craft 14 miles out into the channel to cast their hooked and baited lines for their livelihood. They haul in dozens of red snapper, sea trout, mackerel bonito, and the occasional yellowtail and other exotic Southern California catches, bring them back to their sandy workplace on the beach next to the Newport Pier and make their living as modern-day fish-mongers, providing seafood lovers with the freshest of the fresh.

There are about a dozen dory fishermen who inhabit the tiny, ramshackle, beachfront stalls immediately west of the pier, and D’Amato says that at least a few of them set out into the ocean nearly every day of the year, sputtering off into the early morning darkness to bring back their catches to sell mostly to the cognoscenti who crave only the fish that have been landed that morning.

Many of the insiders, said D’Amato, are Chinese, who not only prize fish as entrees, but “mostly they like everything fresh.” Others, he said, are regular customers who wander by to say hello and pick up their evening meal. Occasionally, passers-by are pressed into service as a dory returns, and both the fishermen and the potential customers shove the little boat up the beach on portable rollers.

The dorymen’s operation is perhaps one of the smallest fish markets any Orange County resident is likely to see, but it may be the fastest. If a customer wants a fish filleted, it is done in seconds, and wrapped in butcher paper and newspaper outer wrapping. The knife work may be slightly more primitive than at Benihana—only slightly—but it is no slower and no less effective. The only element that keeps the market from opening every day is the weather, D’Amato said. Because the dories are small boats, high winds or waves or heavy rain keep them on shore. The best days, D’Amato said, are in the summer, when catches will occasionally yield such delicacies as yellowtail, bonito “and swordfish once in a while.” Most of the dorymen’s sales are to individual customers but, said D’Amato, they make regular sales to local restaurants that prize the quality of the catch.

D’Amato, 41, who lives in Costa Mesa, said he sells an average of 200 pounds of fish a day. “I’ve been doing it all my life, really,” he said. “I started when I lived in Italy, and I’ve been here since ’73. It’s a lot of work. But you’ve got to have it in your blood. I was born to this. —Patrick Mott, Los Angeles Times, February 18, 1988

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Additional stories on the history of Newport’s Dory Fleet 

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Through The years

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-through-the-years/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #1 —1934

1935http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-1/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #2 —1950

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-2-—-1950/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #3 —1969 

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-3-—-1969/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #4 — 1971

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-4-—-1971/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #5 — 1973

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-5-—-1973/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #7 — 1989

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-7-—-1989/

]]> http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-%e2%80%94-looking-back-6-%e2%80%94-1988/feed/ 0 http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-%e2%80%94-looking-back-5-%e2%80%94-1973/ http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-%e2%80%94-looking-back-5-%e2%80%94-1973/#comments Thu, 15 Mar 2018 21:59:41 +0000 kenjones http://kenjonesfishing.com/?p=17895 She Doesn’t Crab About Fishwife’s Life

Newport Beach—Carrie Beck was born to the good life. She was born with a silver spoon in her mouth and a stable in the backyard. She grew up in relative luxury in Fall River, Mass., and once rode her way to a first-place ribbon in a horse show at Madison Square Garden. But today you can usually find Carrie Beck standing in a fishing dory below the Newport Pier, barefoot, bellbottomed, hawking red crabs and an occasional filet to tourists and passer-by. “No,” she concedes with a quick laugh, “never in my life did I dream I‘d be putting boats in the ocean and cleaning fish and selling crabs.”

A cheerful, good-natured woman, she takes a long pull from an unfiltered cigarette and pauses for a moment, a wry smile crossing her lips as she weighs what life has been… and probably will be. “I don’t think I could do anything else,” she says finally, in such a way that you know she means it. “I love this life. It’s a challenge, and when you live and work in the outdoors it’s hard to get closed in again.”

It is more than a few miles and two marriages down the road, now, and Carrie is one of the fishwives of the rag-tag dory fleet of Newport Beach. “When I was a kid my Daddy wouldn’t let us work. He was a gambler and had… a lot of money. If we worked it would have embarrassed him. “Then he came out here about three years ago and when he saw what I was doing—selling fish—he couldn’t believe it.”

Her life-style has changed, and like most of the family in the fleet she relies on fish heads as a staple for soup, but despite the 19-hour days and bare-boned budgets she not only enjoys the role of a fishwife—she thrives on it.  “I like it because you get to work all day with your husband,” she explains. “You’re not in an office somewhere or waiting on tables. Sure, you get on each other’s nerves once in a while but that’s to be expected. You can do that at home.”

A typical day for the Becks begins at 4 a.m., with cups of steaming hot coffee in their Costa Mesa home. On this particular day Vern Beck is not well. A daughter arrived on vacation from the East Coast the night before, and celebrating with two six-packs of beer on an empty stomach has put aspirin at the top of his breakfast menu… It is a dreary day, matched by a dreary catch for the fishermen, and knots of tourists gather around the few boats that are in dickering for the meager haul. “I had a big yellow grouper,” complains one man, “but a shark hit it on the way up.” Bonito, a few rock cod, some red snapper—it is a lean day for the men who fish with hand-lines. One boat hauled in less than 40 pounds. Another has hooked only a handful of fish.

“It gets nerve-wracking,” Carrie says. “When the men come in they’re tired and can’t even get the boat set up, there are so many people pushing and shoving. “You won’t believe the questions some people ask. They want to know how much fish is he going to bring in—they really do ask that.

Real Fresh—”One man watched the boat come in and asked if the fish were fresh and they were still flopping. Then they don’t understand we have to fill our phone orders first. They scream and argue and, of course, everybody is here first.” By 10:30 a.m. Vern has rounded the pier and comes crashing through the waves, dodging swimmers and body surfers, running full bore onto the beach. It was a strong current, he says, and he could find marker buoys for only 12 traps, but still it is a good haul with 400 pounds of crabs. Eventually other fishermen come to his aid, pushing and setting the rollers and, with Carrie heaving on the rope, they drag the dory about 30 yards up the sand. Instantly a crowd appears, gray old women and young girls in hip-huggers, men with cameras around their necks and eager boys pressing in for a better view.

Carrie’s Turn—Vern has taken a well earned break, and it is Carrie’s show, now, digging into the pails, fingers darting, carefully—watch those claws—dancing around the metal compartments of the dory and occasionally hoisting a hefty specimen high for the admiring audience. Working quickly, retrieving change from a worn leather purse she skirts the pails like a dervish. “I can’t believe the prices down here,” says a man in shorts. “Just 35 cents a pound for crab?” “That’s right.” “I’ll take five pounds.” She whirls and picks, bags, weighs his order.  “Make it 10 pounds.”

For some it is more than a bargain, more than just a purchase; it is a trip through the byways of nostalgia, a religious experience. “This is terrific,” beams a man in sport shirt. “I haven’t bought fish off a boat since I was a kid up in Washington. I never realized all this was here.” “Where do you live?”  “Huntington Beach,” he says. “New here?” “No,” he admits sheepishly. I’ve lived here 22 years.”

Big Purchase—For an hour it is a scene of frantic, barely controlled chaos. A man in a straw hat buys 100 pounds to take to relatives in Hawaii in the morning. A woman buys five pounds of claws for hors d’oeuvres. From Riverside, the Simi Valley and throughout the Los Angeles Basin they come, prowling the boats for bargains, savvy seafood shoppers jockeying for a place in line. “Does he go out again?” asks a woman.  “No, Ma’am,” says Carrie, weighing a 10-pound bag of male crabs. “Once a day is enough.”  “Oh,” says the woman, incredulous. “Is it that hard?” “You caught these?” questions a man in a flower-print shirt.  “No, but I showed him where to put the traps,” Carrie says.

A distinguished-looking old man is amused.  “Is this your only job?” “That’s right. This is the way we make our living.” “Have you been at it long?”  “My husband’s been doing it for 12 years.” “Is it a good living?” the man wonders.  “We get by.”  “I’m just an old school teacher,” he says wistfully, leaving and shaking his head. A chic, middle-ages woman talks with a friend.

Catch Is Sold—“It’s a neat life,” she is saying, watching Carrie. “I told my husband, Gary, it’s a shame you get seasick or we could try that.” In an hour the catch is easily sold out, but Carrie waits until noon for several customers who have placed phone orders. Those left over are sold quickly and she prepares to clean the boat for the ride home. Soon it will be back to making traps with a fast break for dinner—spaghetti tonight—then maybe squeeze time in for housework and running a few loads of laundry and tending the vegetable garden. Vern will probably fall asleep watching a ball game, but Carrie’s day will go on until 11, perhaps 11:30, on some days longer when the kids have to get ready for school. “You can always find something to do, something that has to be done,” she says, “and a lot of times you get so tired you can’t sleep. “Some days we’ll make $100 and others we won’t make anything—it’s chicken today and feathers tomorrow.” Then she finishes hosing down the gear and leans against the dory, enjoying a cigarette and cup of coffee as she waits f      or Vern. “No,” she says, amused at the thought. “I never imagined I’d learn how to clean a fish, or sell a crab. “But it’s a good life… and I wouldn’t change it.” —Steve Kline, Los Angeles Times, October 11, 1973

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Additional stories on the history of Newport’s Dory Fleet 

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Through The years

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-through-the-years/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #1 —1934

1935http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-1/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #2 —1950

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-2-—-1950/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #3 —1969 

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-3-—-1969/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #4 — 1971

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-4-—-1971/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #6 — 1988

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-6-—-1988/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #7 — 1989

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-7-—-1989/

]]> http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-%e2%80%94-looking-back-5-%e2%80%94-1973/feed/ 0 http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-%e2%80%94-looking-back-4-%e2%80%94-1971/ http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-%e2%80%94-looking-back-4-%e2%80%94-1971/#comments Thu, 15 Mar 2018 21:59:10 +0000 kenjones http://kenjonesfishing.com/?p=17870 A Line to the Sea—and the Past: Newport Beach Dorymen Like Biblical Fishers

Newport Beach—The dory fishermen of Newport Beach have been likened to the fishermen of biblical times on the shores of the Sea of Galilee. Poems have been written about them. A restaurant, The Dorymen, has been named for them. Books and magazine articles have praised their courage in facing the ocean’s good and bad moods in small boats, and their independence in shunning the 9to-five way of life.

Their “office” — a patch of sand next to the Newport Pier where their boays are pulled from the surf and their fish sold in open-air market fashion-has been made an official landmark by the Newport Beach Historical Society.

“What a great life,” said a pink-faced, overweight touris standing toe-to-toe with a rubber-booted doryman. The smell of fish and bait was thick in the salty breeze. Sun glinted on the ocean and the gentle surf made soothing sounds. “I bet there’s nothing else in the world you’d rather be doing,” the tourist went on. Try me on beer drinking,” the doryman answered and turned away.

Carl Marberry is 43 years old. For 20 of those years he has fished with the Newport dory fleet, and he knows that the sun is not always sparkling on the small friendly waves and that the surf is not always gentle. He knows that even on a day of beautiful weather the fish might not bite, and when the fish aren’t around, he knows for sure that the bill collectors and the hungry mouths at home are.

Carl Marberry

Don (Red) Zeitler is 20 years old and has been a dory fleet regular for only two years. During a spell of good weather a few months ago, Red fished every day for 20 days, caught 2,3000 pounds of mostly rock cod and took in $800.

‘End Up With Zero’—“But then,” he said, “you can go another 20 days and end up with zero.” Like several days ago, when he rowed his dory through the surf, started the outboard engine and headed seaward on a course of 240 degrees, roughly southwest. It was a thick, gray day, and within minutes the coastline had vanished in the mists and the 18-foot dory was alone. The breeze, blowing from the southeast, was picking up. “Southeasters bring rain or fog,” Red had said earlier, “and the sea gets all sloppy.” He was steering by a battered old compass fastened to the bottom of the boat. His other navigating tools were a wrist-watch and an inexpensive fathometer. He knew the speed of his boat, about 15 knots, and he knew that in almost an hour he should be over Dago Banks, a submarine mountain whose peak is 110 fathoms (680 feet) below the surface, halfway between Newport and Catalina Island. He was looking for a little red flag marker he had rigged on a float some days earlier when he had found fish on the banks. The southeast wind was getting colder, and a fine drizzle of rain was coming out of the fog. Red’s running time was used up. He slowed the engine and began searching for his red flag marker.

Widening Circles—Visibility was less than half a mile. He cruised in widening circles, standing upright in the rear of the dory, a lonely figure in big boots, yellow oilskin overalls and a  dirty visored cap from beneath which his shoulder-length red hair flowed and whipped in the wind. He had sufficient gasoline on board to assure his return to Newport—but not enough to waste in a long search for the small red marker in the gray wastes. He switched on his fathometer to see if he could locate the 110-fathom peak of the ridge somewhere below him. The fathometer wasn’t working. He circled some more, looking for the flag. No luck.  In the slim hope that he was over Dago Banks, he stopped the engine and streamed the long line of baited hooks that had been coiled precisely in a wooden tub. When he came to the end of the line, he held it for a few minutes and suddenly smiled a little. “They’re chewing at it,” he said.

He tied the end of the line to a float, threw it overboard, started the engine and prepared to fish another spot a few yards away with a rod and reel. A half hour passed. He reeled in the line on the rod, straining at the 6=pound weight he had attached to carry 25 baited hooks several hundred feet down. The first two hooks held two small sharks, about 18 inches long. Red flipped them off and threw them back in disgust. The third hook was empty. The fourth had a dark gray sea trout. All the rest were empty. “One fish,” Red said.

He stowed the rod, started the engine and searched out the float to which he had attached the other line, the main line  with 50 hooks. He found the float, but there was no line attached to it. In some way, it had gone adrift. Red threw the float into the bottom of the boat, started the engine, took a quick heading from his compass and felt the freshening southwest wind driving the thin rain and the spray from his bow against his right cheek as he steered northeast to take him home to the Newport Pier. “Twenty dollars,” Red said. “That line and hooks and bait cost me $20… for one fish.

It was past noon. He had come out through the surf just after dawn. He would get back somewhere around 2 p.m. With the help of other dorymen, he would drag the 1,000 pounds of boat, motor and gear on rollers up the beach. He would work until after dark overhauling his tackle, getting a new trawl (line), baiting the hooks and coiling them in the tub ready for tomorrow.

Some of the other dorymen would have had better luck that day. They would have hauled their boats up and opened bright umbrellas over them, creating instant open-air markets on the sand.  The some, with the help of their wives, would have cleaned and sold theirnewspaper-wrapped fish to beach visitors. Some—as Red would have done on a better day—would have taken their catch to nearby restaurants which are regular customers for fresh seafood.

Dory fishing can be dangerous. Two men have disappeared in their small boats. Red himself was rescued by a Navy ship 14 miles offshore after he drifted for 7 hours. And Carl Marberry, burly and tough, with tattooed arms, admits to a strange mishap 8 years ago. “I was about a mile off shore,” he said, “I came on a big ball (school) of anchovies and I got greedy. I was scooping them into the boat with a long handled net. “I got about 1,6000 pounds of ‘em in with me. And then I put one more anchovy in, and we sank.” He was rescued by his father-in-law, Paul Phegley, another doryman. The boat was recovered, after his engine broke down too, and is the one young Red uses now.

Marberry says he didn’t know until recently that all dorymen were invited to be honored guests at a banquet given by the Newport Beach Historical Society two years ago. It was the occasion in June, 1969, on which the fleet site was declared a historical landmark, and all the 15 fishermen were supposed to be in the dining hall of the Balboa Pavilion  to receive formal praise for their courage, their independence, and “their contribution to the colorful history of Newport Beach.” Three or four of them, including Red, showed up. “Did you have to pay for the dinner?” Marberry asked Red.  “Hell no. It was free. We were guests,” Red answered. “What’d they serve, steak and prime rib?” Marberry asked. “Rock cod,” said Red. “Rock cod that was caught that day.” Marberry stared at him, turned and clumped away in his hip boots.

“You have to be like a squirrel and save up for when the weather’s bad.

Me, I don’t save mine. We eat chicken one day and feathers the next.”

—Carl Marberry, Dory Fisherman

—Gordon Grant, Los Angeles Times, March 8, 1971

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Additional stories on the history of Newport’s Dory Fleet 

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #1 —1934

1935http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-1/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #2 —1950

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-2-—-1950/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #3 —1969 

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-3-—-1969/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #5 — 1973

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-5-—-1973/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #6 — 1988

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-6-—-1988/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #7 — 1989

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-7-—-1989/

]]> http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-%e2%80%94-looking-back-4-%e2%80%94-1971/feed/ 0 http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-%e2%80%94-looking-back-3-%e2%80%94-1969/ http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-%e2%80%94-looking-back-3-%e2%80%94-1969/#comments Wed, 14 Mar 2018 19:05:24 +0000 kenjones http://kenjonesfishing.com/?p=17793  A Diminishing Breed: Dorymen of Newport

 Newport Beach (AP).— Times are tough for the Newport doryman. But a dozen or so still put to sea before dawn each day in tiny one-man boats seeking crab, lobster or whatever good-eating fish can be found as far as 30 miles from shore.

They are back at Newport Pier before noon. Scores of faithful customers are lined up waiting, lured by fresh fish at 30 cents a pound, lobster for $1.25 a pound or crab at 25 cents a pound. But, like the doryman himself, the customers are a diminishing breed. Not many of today’s housewives want to clean fish themselves.

Doryman—so named because of their boats—have been in these parts as long as anyone can remember. The Dory fleet of Newport Beach Pier was founded about 1906 and, due to the plentiful catch available, grew rapidly in size. For years now the Newport fleet has been regarded as the last of its kind in this country—the subject of numerous paintings, photographs and stories. Anyone who owns a dory boat and wants to try his luck fulltime at fishing is welcome to join.

Mel Fleener, 22, has been at it for four months now. He knows the discomfort of the roll of a small boat in open seas; the anxiety of bills that need paying while fish disappear for days on end; the arduous job of set line fishing at depths of 850 feet or more. Fleener’s fishing equipment, like most dorymen’s, is simple—almost primitive: Buckets of precisely coiled lines with hundreds of baited hooks and a rude windlass on the prow equipped with several thousand feet of line.

The technique is simple—and back-breaking, once you are far from shore. Slender, light-haired Fleener, peering through rim-less eye-glasses, begins by securing the line from the windlass to a crude float which has a flag attached. He fires up the outboard motor (dorymen haven’t rowed to sea in many years) and pays out enough line to correspond to the depth being fished. Stopping the engine, he then ties several weights to the line and wrestles the lot overboard. At this point things get tricky. As the boat moves slowly, Fleener gingerly throws out coil upon coil of baited hooks. More sash weights and more line from the windlass are attached, finally terminating in another float and signal flag. The sash weights by this time have sent the setline into the depths, where jagged rock formations take their toll in lines that can never be pulled up. Each tub of line costs about $30, says Fleener. Once the line is out, Fleener has his first moment to relax since setting out. He waits 45 minutes before pulling in the lines.

“Did you see what I was doing with the set line?” he asks a visitor. “Well, that’s one of the best ways for a doryman to disappear. All it takes is for a hook to wrap around your arm and catch the moving line, and you’re on your way overboard, and straight down.” At least two dorymen have disappeared in recent years, their empty boats found bobbing in the channel.

Hauling in lines is rough work. Swinging the boat past a signal float, Fleener grabs the line and hooks it to the windlass. He begins cranking methodically. Ten minutes later he still is cranking, more slowly now, for the line has fouled on rocks below. He finally unfouls the line but a 40-pound rock remains firmly hooked and has to be pulled by hand, along with a meager catch of fish that customers won’t buy and a few salable fish. Three set lines later, and after cranking up at least a mile of hooks and line, the day’s catch is in—about 125 pounds of salable sea trout and rock cod. It’s already 11 a.m., but the trip to the pier marketing point goes swiftly. “Would you believe,” Fleener asks warily, “that I won’t be finished until 6 o’clock tonight? First I have to sell these fish, then bait up for tomorrow’s fishing.”

Annual income from dory fishing runs from about $4000 to $7000. The venture for most is a family affair, with wife and kids on shore to help. It’s an independent life, of course, and, it seems for most dorymen this is its prime attraction.

Most dorymen complain of “junk fish” and blame water pollution and over-fishing. “Sometimes you make more money, some days less. But it’s what you want to do,” explains Al Knight. Knight has been putting out with his 12-foot dory for seven years. His catch hopefully will include crab and lobster but lately there’s been an increasing number of the “junk fish”—shark and skate. “They always come in when the good fish leave,” Knight says. He feel water pollution is responsible and says the best catch now is sea trout, rock cod and bonito but sadly adds “even they aren’t what they used to be.” —Santa Cruz Sentinel, March 2, 1969

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Additional articles on the history of Newport’s Dory Fleet

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Through The years

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-through-the-years/

 The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #1 — 1934

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-1/

 The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #2 — 1950

   http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-2-—-1950/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #4 — 1971

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-4-—-1971/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #5 — 1973

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-5-—-1973/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #6 — 1988

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-6-—-1988/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #7 — 1989

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-7-—-1989/

“Fishing is like poetry; men must be born so.”—Isaak Walton. “If my sons thought of becoming fishermen, I’d break their heads. It’s a dog’s life.”—Jess Van Riper.

Walton was an angler and Van is a fisherman and maybe the difference in their points of view is that Walton earned his living in other ways and Van drags his from the rocky bottom of the bay off Newport Beach.

For Van is a follower of the oldest trade on earth. Fishing was man’s first commerce. Ancients headed their dugout canoes into the Mediterranean surf and brought back fish with net and hook and spear.

Sold From Boats—They beached their canoes. Their wives and children met them on the sand and cleaned the catch. And it was sold from the beached boats. Jess Van Riper and about a dozen other men ply their trade off Newport in much the same manner as the ancients. Before dawn they head their 16-foot flat-bottomed dories into the sea and by noon they are back, their boats beached. Their wives and children are cleaning the catch, setting up gaily-striped umbrellas over the boats and selling the fish on Newport’s sands.

Day in Their Lives—This is a day in the life of Jess Van Riper and the dory fishermen of Newport. It’s not yet dawn. The moon is a ruddy fingernail. The sea is quiet. Restless. Moving with a hushed sound against the white sand. The dories are ghostly in the pale light. Across the Newport town square the fishermen arrive singly. Yawning. Stretching their arms. Waddling across the pavement in their rubber hip boots. Dick Talstra. A Hollander by birth. A big man. In his 50s. Has been fishing from the tiny dories here for 15 years. Muttered a word of greeting to Paul Phegley.

Sips Coffee in Café—Paul, 36, lean and sharp faced. Felt hat pulled over his sunburned forehead. Stands listening to the sea. Sniffing the air. “Good day for it. Me for coffee,” he says. He sips the hot coffee in a café, open early for the fishermen, and talks: “My brother Henry came out first in the ‘30s. Got himself a dory and an outfit. I followed. Then you could pick up a whole outfit for this work for $90. And you could pull a living from the sea. Not too much, but a living. “Then there were men fishing here who’s been at it for 50 years. I don’t know how long dory fishermen have worked this coast.” He looks at the waitress. “What do you say Mae?” “I was born here 47 years ago,” she tells him. “They were at it and had been for as long as anybody could remember.” Paul goes on: “Then it was a two-man job. You rowed to the fishing grounds. Some used a small sail. Now, since the war, we’ve got outboards motors. It’s easier that way. “We stuck to it. Things got pretty good. People like to buy fish straight from the sea. Fresh. And we sell it cheap—25 cents a pound for rock cod and the salt water trout. And 30 cents for the gray fish, gray shark and halibut and such.

Quit in Wartime—“Just before they made us quit in wartime, the fish were really running. Once, in 1942, I got into the albacore. I caught 1124 pounds. In a 16-foot boat. And brought it ashore. I was wallowing in fish. The ocean was up to the oar-locks. “I rowed it in, got almost to the beach. When I hit the surf, I sank. But we saved the fish.” He sips the hot coffee, takes a drag on a cigarette, says: “I’ve quit a couple of times. Took jobs on the big boats, the tuna boats during cold winters. But I always came back. “After I’d piled up a little cash I took off for Louisiana once, bought a farm, swore I’d never go to sea again. But, something gets into you. Farming the land I kept smelling the ocean. I came back.”

Get Under Way—He drains the coffee cup, flips a coin on the counter. “We’ll, let’s make a day,” he says. Dawn has reddened the hills over Newport and now all the fishermen are here except two who have put out early. “That’s to get the first spot,” Paul says. “First man on the beach with his catch pulls his boat nearest the boardwalk and gets first crack at the customers.” The boats are being launched now. Fred Davenport, fishing here off and on since the early 20s. Small, white-haired. Leans onto his boat shoving it out for launching. Van jumps to give him a hand. And Big Tom Walker. And Henry Phegley, Paul’s brother, still at it. And young Harold Stadge, 21, with only two years on the beach. His father was a fisherman.

Rolled in Surf—The flat-bottomed boat slips on rollers down to the surf. It takes the sea, waves slapping its sides. Fred clambers aboard. Begins rowing. Van says, “He’s after the junk. Denio and Sanders made for the black cod—the salt water trout. Henry will fish junk. Tom and I and Paul and Dick will go after the red fish—the rock cod.” They don’t divide up the grounds deliberately, just arbitrarily. Too much red fish and too little other kinds give the customers too little choice during the sales. Van’s boat hits the sea now, rolls in the wash and quivers through the surf. He rows it slowly out about 50 feet. And slips the motor into place. And jerks it on.

Paul Rips Ahead—Roar fills the silence. Paul’s plywood craft, lightest and fastest on the beach, rips ahead, only the flat stern of the boat in the ocean. Dick is beside him and Van behind. Tom Walker is in the rear, his motor popping and coughing. Light is in the air and the sea is green and clear and placid when Van reaches the red fish grounds, about four miles out. He cuts the engine. Stands. A squat, red-faced man. High cheekbones, wide-set blue eyes. A stocky man with thick brown forearms. This Van Riper became a fisherman as soon as he first saw the sea, back in 1936. He had been born on an Iowa farm, had followed railroading, had turned West. He saw the sea from this beach and brought an outfit from Paul Phegley.

Full Equipment—An outfit is two 1500-foot lines with hooks set every three feet. It’s the 16-foot dory, worth at present prices about $300, tubs to wind his line in, gaffs to catch floating fish and hipboots and his $350 outboard. He had never fished before, but now it’s a nine-months-a-year job with him. Working a seven-day week, and a 16-hour day except when it’s cold or too fogged-in. The three winter months Van builds houses on a tract he owns (and has been bought from fishing) in Costa Mesa. Now, braced bent-legged in the rolling boat, squinting toward the shore line, he stands watching.

Boats Float Nearby—Dick’s boat floats nearby. Paul’s is a mile away. Tom’s is still behind, still chugging out. “Which way’s the current, Dick?” Van shouts across the quiet water. “Down and in.” “Down and in. Like yesterday.”  “Maybe it’ll go up and around.” Van watches the shore.  “School tower’s square over the palm trees,” he calls. “Down and in.” Dick says again. The rock cod likes its schools. The fish huddle together in vast groups—miles wide. The fishing grounds are marked with floats and as definite as the boundaries of a city block. Knowing the current is vital. A misplaced line will be dragged by the current away from the fish.

Drift of Boat Watched—Van sights the Newport High School tower above a tiny black toothpick of a beach palm and watches the drift of his boat. When he believes he’s right, he jerks the motor on, zips to one end of the grounds and, steering with one knee, flips easily across the grounds, tossing out the hooked line with an easy cowboy motion, the throw of a man flinging a lariat. Weights drag the line and set it down 600 feet. The cod are deep-water fish. They huddle to the ocean’s rocky bottom. Van leaves his line down less than 15 minutes. While it’s down and the dory is drifting easily, he talks.

Wife Meets Boat—“Fishing’s been good to me but I wouldn’t let a son of mine follow it. One is in SC—studying electrical engineering. The other’s in Chicago working for General Motors. Fishing got them started. Pays for their schooling. But the hours are too long. There’s no days off. It’s not a way to live. “And we all work at it. My wife’s young one, he’s 15, he’s out every afternoon baiting these 1500 feet of hooks. With anchovies or sardines. Pay him $2.50 or some other kid that. “And the wife meets the boat. She’s down at shore by 10 a.m. to wait me coming in. I might get a good catch the first throw and be in by then.  “She sets up a striped umbrella—that’s for the crowd and to keep the sun out—over the boat, and I put up an oar to hang the scales on, and she cleans and weighs and sells the fish. She’s out here toil dark. I’m on the beach or fishing from dawn to dark. No Sundays off. “The rest of the fishermen are about the same.” Van waits, watching his lines, squinting at the shore line. Then he says, “I’d better make $20 a day to make wages. That’s figuring $1.50 for bait, 60 cents for gas, $200 a year for lines, $150 a year for the motor and $2.50 for baiting. Let’s pull them in. See if we’ve got fish. He begins hauling in the line. At first there’s nothing. The sea is clear. The silver hooks can be seen coming up 90 feet through the water. Van’s muscular arms pull steadily at the nylon cord. Empty hooks and more empty hooks. Even the bait gone. Now there’s something else. Pinback sharks. Wiggling their slender gray-black bodies on the hooks. About two-feet long.

Tosses Lines Back—Van rips them off the line and tosses them back. “One time I went out,” he says, and picked up 247 pinbacks. So many were coming I started counting them. Useless beggars.” There are almost 200 feet of empty line before the first fish is on. Bloated, red, great-headed, its bladder pulled out from the change in pressure. From being jerked away from the deep water it loves. Eyes puffed and staring glassily. “Now they come,” says Van, “now the floaters.”

Fish on Every Hook—As the pressure changes, the cod swell and pop to the surface, dragging the line and other fish behind them. Now almost every hook has a fish on it. Behind the boat, they begin dotting the surface in a long, irregular line. One or two lose their hooks and float on the current. Van rows toward them, gathering them in with the gaffing hooks. On the moving, burnished water their gleaming rusty-red bodies glow in the sudden sunlight. It takes over an hour to pull the catch in. It half fills the small boat. There are about 350 pounds.

Gives Him Freedom—As the outboard motor carries the dory toward the beach and the afternoon’s sales Van repeats: “A dog’s life. But there’s something about it. An independence. A freedom. You owe no man, you depend on no man. It’s your life and your way of life. “It’s proud and it’s insecure and it’s dependent on wind and waves, whatever the weather decides to do. And the fish. Who knows how long the cod will stay here before they move on and we have to find something else to fish for? “A dog’s life. I wouldn’t have it for my sons. But for me—I wouldn’t change it for the world. —Cecil Smith, Los Angeles Times, May 8, 1950

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Additional articles on the history of Newport’s Dory Fleet

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Through The years

 http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-through-the-years/

  The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #1 — 1934

 http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-1/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #3 — 1969 

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-3-—-1969/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #4 — 1971

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-4-—-1971/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #5 — 1973

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-5-—-1973/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #6 — 1988

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-6-—-1988/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #7 — 1989

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-7-—-1989/

For nearly 20 years on he beach next to the Newport municipal pier there has existed a fishing community which has its counterpoint nowhere on this coast. Ten to 12 dories under bright beach umbrellas make up the permanent village, and some 20 more dories are beached there at night. About 30 families depend on the fresh fish they can see for their living.

These sons of the sea are as taciturn as legend has them. When Shorty Gunther, who has been fishing from Newport for 15 years, was informed that his occupation was one of the Pacific coast’s unique ones, that Newport is reported to be the only place on the coast where fishermen go out to the sea in dories, and that there were those who would be interested in reading about it, he squinted reflectively into the sun and maintained that his job was his job, and that was that.

“No,” he said, “I can’t say I have what you might call adventures. It’s mostly a matter of going to work and coming home again. Once I had to swim 45 minutes to get home, and once in a while one of us tips his dory over, but mainly we don’t, and when we do it’s part of the job, anyway.” When asked why this unique industry had sprung just where it did, he said, “It’s on account of the surf mainly. There’s not so much of it here.

And partly it grew up here because the concession on the beach was granted then so long ago it has become a traditional feature of the Newport beach, and because the city charges them no license to sell their fish here, provided they always sell the same day’s catch, and that they keep the beach and their fish clean.

The men roll their little dories into the water any time around three or four in the morning every day, and row out to sea. Any motive power other than human simply is not used. The general practice is to go out two to five miles, and this time of year, put out from 500 to 1200 hooks per man, strung at depths of from several hundred feet to 2000 feet for sea trout or black cod, and nearer the surface for mackerel, barracuda, bonito, yellowtail, and the like.

In the early afternoon they row home again with anywhere from 50 to 300 pounds of fish to the boat. “We could bring home a ton or two apiece each week, if we could sell them,” Gunther said. At Newport the dories are laboriously beached again, the fish cleaned, and while the women sell the fish if they can, the men bait up for the next day. Cutting up fish and baiting a thousand hooks apiece takes up the rest of the day.

During June they fish for mackerel and sea trout, on account of the closed season on some game fish during May and June, said Gunther, who said he was reflecting the voice of the community, “this new fish law is the best law that was ever made. Except for it, we could take thousands of barracuda and bonito with our nets every day, and kill them off in two years, because they’re spawning now.

The seining season opens in September and then these fishermen put out two to a boat, and in groups of two boats, and seine drag this part of the coast for the fish they cannot take now. During this month they cannot sell barracuda or bonito at all, but confine themselves to mackerel, halibut and cod.

Asked about reports that the fish were not so plentiful this year, Gunther said, “There’s fish, all right. You got to find them, is all. Sometimes they’re one place, sometimes another. Our biggest trouble this year is not the lack of fish, but the pig sharks. We catch them pretty regular, and they just break our lines and ruin our outfits.

And so these men do their jobs because they are their jobs, and rain or shine they think no more of it. But more and more people are stopping underneath an umbrella to buy the fish, because no where else can one get one’s main course for a fish dinner just 10 feet from the water where it was caught. —Bob Guild, Santa Ana Register, June 21, 1934

Pictures from Santa Ana Register, February 21, 1935

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Additional articles on the history of Newport’s Dory Fleet 

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Through The years

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-through-the-years/

 The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #2 — 1950

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-2-—-1950/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #3 — 1969 

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-3-—-1969/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #4 — 1971

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-4-—-1971/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #5 — 1973

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-5-—-1973/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #6 — 1988

 http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-6-—-1988/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #7 — 1989

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-7-—-1989/

Newport Pier was where I began my pier fishing life in 1962. I would ride my bicycle down the hill from Costa Mesa and try to get the best spot on the pier (the corner spot). To do that meant I would have to leave the house around 4 AM. Generally the only people I would see by the pier when I arrived were the fishermen at the dory fleet that was located next to the pier. The fishermen in the iconic fleet, a fleet in existence since 1891, had a long day in front of them. Originally they simply rowed out the 3-5 miles to the fishing grounds; by 1962 they were using outboard motors. Today, not much has changed  except for the actual people fishing, prices, and sometimes onerous regulations that can shut down various fisheries (with immediate impact on the earnings of the fleet).

Herein a few pictures taken during a visit in March of 2018 and a look back at the fleet and some of its history through the years

A marker near the entrance gives note of the history

Old Pictures

The dory fleet sits next to the Newport Pier

A “Lady Angler” — Rita Magdamo

Fresh fish — rock cod (rockfish), thornyheads, sablefish (black cod), and mackerel

Deep-water thornyhead rockfish

Deep-water sablefish aka black cod aka sea trout

Due to their fat content, sablefish are one of the VERY BEST smoked fish

Deep-water rock cod (rockfish)

There are almost always a few birds around

Some older pictures — and some history as recorded by the newspapers

2007

2012

Some history through the years —

Dorymen put to sea in their small boats early in the day, often before dawn, and are always (to some degree) at the mercy of mother nature. Blinding fog, freakish waves, sudden squalls and thrashing wind can make for a dangerous ocean. And, over the years, too many dorymen have left Newport’s shore and not returned. It’s rare, but risk is always a part of the game. Several stories over the years, including the story below, give evidence of that risk.

Newport Fishermen Lost In The Deep — Two Sail For The Banks And Fail To Return

Santa Ana, Dec. 15.—Early yesterday morning a Slavonian fisherman of Newport Beach, named Teakovich, accompanied by a French boy, started out in a dory for the fishing banks, a few miles off shore, and they have not been heard from since. When they left the beach they said they would be in the same afternoon, and the fact that they had not returned today led to the fear that they had met with accident, foundered, or been blown by the winds to some remote point. Searching parties were organized and a diligent hunt made up and down the beach for miles, without revealing a trace of the missing persons… Word was sent to Laguna, San Juan by the Sea, and other seaside settlements further down the coast… The belief of the Newport fishermen is that the unfortunate boatmen have found a grave in the briny deep. The lost men were typical coast fishers, poorly dressed, and had a green-painted dory. They were experienced fishermen and sailors. —Los Angeles Times, December 18, 1903

On the other hand, there have also been quite a number of stories that reference people that were saved by the actions of dory fishermen.

2 Bathers Rescued From The Surf By Three Fishermen

Newport Beach, Sept. 13.—Three Newport Beach fishermen covered themselves with salt water and glory besides reaping a reward Sunday when they pulled two bathers out of the surf just west of the Southern Pacific wharf. The men were not able to swim and ventured out beyond their depth before realizing the danger.

Their appeals for assistance were answered by “Steamboat” McDonald, Chandler Johnson and Louis Dixon, who launched a dory and went to the rescue. With methodical precision born from a long and close acquaintanceship with the sea, the daring fisher lads drove their boat through the rolling, tumbling surf and out to the helpless bathers, who were hauled from their perilous predicament into the dory and brought safely back to shore.

The men were so grateful for their deliverance from the jaws of death that they rewarded the fishermen with a five-dollar bill, which, although not much of a price for two human lives, showed that their hearts were in the right place. It was reported that the men were from Santa Ana, but they vanished so quickly that their names could not be obtained.—Santa Ana Register, September 13, 1918 

Sometimes sharks are caught by the dorymen. Most are fairly small and, depending upon species, they can be sold since shark can be good table fare. However, I think few would wish to encounter the following, both caught by “Shorty” Gunther. The first  sounds like a  hammerhead shark while the second definitely is a great white

Shark Attacks Boat At Beach

A death battle with a giant killer shark which attacked his open fishing boat in the sea a mile offshore from Newport Beach was won yesterday by Richard Gunther only after he had reached the point of exhaustion and after the monster had torn the gunwale from his pitching boat. Gunther and Donald Cavanaugh, 14 years of age, were fishing in the boat when the huge shark, more than twenty feet in length, rose alongside, apparently attracted by the smell of the bait.

Circles Boat—The shark circled the boat several times and then raced towards it. It attempted to seize the boy, who sat cowering in his seat. The maneuver was repeated a number of times, the boat threatening to capsize each time. Gunther commanded the boy to lie down in the bottom of the boat. He took a smooth bladed spear which he keeps in the boat and as the shark flashed in again slashed at it. This appeared only to infuriate the creature. It returned to the attack again and again, dyeing the water about the boat crimson with its blood. Finally the shark flashed part way up from the water and seizing the gunwale of the boat between its jaws tore a ragged hole in the craft.

Battle An Hour—The battle had lasted an hour and Gunther was nearing exhaustion. The frantic cries of the boy, however, finally brought aid in the person of Al Warnick and Albert Himes. They drew near the imperiled boat and also attacked the shark. Apparently mortally stricken by a thrust from the spear it swam slowly away and disappeared. The shark had a flat head with large saucer-shaped eyes and a huge mouth with double rows of spear-shaped teeth, Gunther stated. The dorsal fin of the giant fish seemed as large as a sailboat’s jib… he said, and it was considerably longer than his eighteen-foot boat.—Los Angeles Times, July 5, 1924

Three-Year Struggle Ends With Capture of Man-Eating Shark

 Jonah could have done it! Yes, sir, the prophet could have passed through the whale’s mouth at least. Score one for the fundamentalists, as proved by one of the most valuable instruments of science, the camera. Whether Jonah could have snuggled in the stomach of the whale for three days and three nights is beside the question at present, because “Shorty” Gunther, of Newport Beach, doesn’t have any evidence on that score. However, he does have evidence that Jonah could have found a welcome in the mouth of the whale, provided, of course, that the whale’s mouth was as large as a shark’s mouth. To prove that, Gunther today exhibited a picture of the mouth of the shark which he recently snagged at Newport Beach.

Three years ago, the shark, said to be a man-eater, attacked Gunther’s lines and escaped when Gunther attempted to spear him. Recently the same shark was caught on one of Gunther’s set lines and the battle, which had continued at intervals over a period of three years between the fisherman and the fish, was ended. If one doesn’t believe that the shark was plenty mean, take a look at the picture. —Santa Ana Register, November 8, 1926

Although rockfish, sablefish, mackerel and other mid-size fish have provided the majority of fish caught by the dory fishermen, every so often a larger fish (like the sharks above) made the news. It’s doubtful though that many swordfish were ever part of the catch.

From the Santa Ana Register, June 25, 1930

Once again the dory fishermen rescued someone, in this case a fisherman who had fallen from the Newport Pier (which did not have railings on much of the pier until recently).

Fisherman In Narrow Escape

An elderly Long Beach fisherman narrowly escaped death shortly before noon today when he toppled from the damaged Newport Pier and was saved from drowning by two fishermen who pulled him from piling beneath the pier, police reported.

T. L. Skillton, 72, of 1035 Lewis Avenue, Long Beach, was sitting on the edge of the pier near a broken end when he suddenly fell into deep water, officials said. Lifeguards, foremen and police were called, but before they were able to give assistance two unidentified fishermen pushed a small dory through the waves and rescued the struggling man. —Santa Ana Register, October 13, 1939

The monsoon-like chubasco that struck SoCal in 1939 destroyed many piers including those at Newport and Balboa. New piers were built and celebrations were needed for the dedications. Only at Newport did the celebration include dory races.

Newport To Dedicate New Pier Sunday

Newport Beach, June 7.—More than 4000 persons will eat free fish at a gigantic old-fashioned fish fry on the beach here Sunday as a feature of formal dedication of Newport’s new 1100-foot ocean Sportfishing pier, O. M. Campbell, general chairman, announced today… A full afternoon program has been arranged for the beach and ocean… The most interesting events will be dory races, which are open to fishermen only. Men who daily launch their craft through the surf to catch market fish will display their skill in piloting their boats through the roaring breakers. Both one-man and two-man dories will be used in competition, with the boats going through the surf and returning… The ceremony will observe completion of the new $50,000 structure which replaces the old pier destroyed in last September’s storm.—Santa Ana Register, June 7, 1940

Gleaners Of The Sea

As rich in drama and pictorial interest as the Cape Cod fishermen is the Newport dory fleet in Southern California. In calm or stormy weather you’ll find their small boats pulling out through roaring surf before daybreak, sometimes going out as far as 10 miles.

Before noon they return with their catch, pulling the dories high up on the sand.

The fish are cleaned, a canvas umbrella goes up over each dory, and along the boardwalks come customers to buy fresh fish from the sea. —Los Angeles Times, August 4, 1940

Pictures by Robert A. Jackson

Anytime big fish are mentioned as being caught, there’s a good chance that a shark might be involved. Warm-water years see hammerhead sharks enter local waters.

400-Pound Shark Caught Off Balboa

Newport—Balboa. Sept. 18.—A monster of the deep was landed on the beach at Newport yesterday after a long fight during which it threatened to tear out the side of a small boat occupied by its captor.

Shorty Gunther, widely known dory fisherman, brought in the catch, a 10-foot, 400-pound hammerhead shark, which he says is a man-eater and will attack anything within its reach.

The shark, its head measuring more than a yard across, chewed and lashed at the sides of the small dory before being killed Gunther said. The fisherman, who catches sharks for their livers, said that when such a large specimen is hooked it is kept tied to its line overnight to “cool off” and is pulled into the boat the following day. —Santa Ana Register, September 18, 1940

Like most areas along the coast, Newport too saw its shoreline activity impacted during World War II. Boats were restricted to certain harbors while piers saw guns mounted on some of them along with prohibitions against lights at night.

Newport’s Dory Fishermen Are Shut by New Army Landing Order

Newport-Balboa—The war this week brought to a halt one of Newport’s most-famed industries, that of the dory fishermen. For more than 45 years the fishermen have been putting out to sea at dawn, returning in the late afternoon to sell their wares to beach-front crowds, but an Army order forbidding landing anywhere except in certain harbors has halted their operations.

The tiny boats were allowed to continue their offshore operations for some time after the order was issued, but this week authorities “cracked down” as a measure. Army men pointed out the possibility of landing of enemy agents along this coast similar to those in the East, and orders that no small craft may approach the shoreline except at five harbors in the area between San Diego and Santa Barbara.

The picturesque fish market has brough nationwide fame to Newport in the past, and huge throngs formerly visited the beach where the boats were drawn up out of reach of the waves. The day’s catches were sold directly to the visitors—who were assured of “fresh” fish, as they could see them brought directly from the sea. Many of the fishermen have obtained employment on commercial boats which are allowed to leave the harbor after inspection by the Coast Guard. —Santa Ana Register, August 11, 1942

After World War II things returned to normal for the dory fleet.

Hardy Fishermen Risk Sea’s Perils to Supply ‘Dory Market’ at Newport

Newport Beach, Feb. 18—In this community, which has grown into a resort city of fine beach homes, sailing craft and elaborately equipped cruisers, a group of hardy fishermen in their little dories still wrest a well-earned living from the sea. They put out at dawn to work their set lines and do a little trolling and in the afternoon make the run back through the surf. There on the beach their dory becomes their shop. A plank counter rests across the stern, upended oar supports a spring scale and the apron pocket of the fisherman’s wife on duty as clerk is the cash register.

Housewives seeking fish “hour-fresh” from the sea move from boat to boat inspecting their wares. Perhaps a fish wagon pulls up at the nearby street curb and its owner bargains for a wholesale lot to be peddled to inland residential sections.

Since Early days—It’s the Newport Beach “dory market” which has been in existence since the days when there were only a few shacks on the peninsula which circles Newport Harbor. From father to son and grandson these fishermen have been returning each afternoon to sell their catch on the sands by the Newport Beach pier. The picturesque craft, their weathered owners, the smell of the sea and the bargaining are little changed.

Passage of time has brought a few changes, mainly in the use of outboard motors in place of oars. But the danger of running the surf, riding out coastal storms and outwitting fog continues and scarcely a season passes that one of the several dozen fishermen is not lost at sea.

Father and Sons—Typical of the salty clan who man the boats are the Dixons. Old Albert Dixon retired a dozen years ago, but remembers the years just after the turn of the century when he rode his dory to sea every day at dawn. His son Joe took up the trade and still fishes occasionally, while young Albert, now in his 30s, is one of the regular fleet. Tom Walker is another old-timer whose son is carrying on. Fred Davenport of Costa Mesa is a familiar figure with 19 years in the fleet. His wife Mary is one of the many wives who help clean the fish and sell to the public.

Gay umbrellas shade the fishermen and lend a market place air to the beach boats. The dories are 16 feet long and normally carry two men. A good day’s catch is 400 to 500 pounds of edible fish, including mackerel, rock cod, black cod, sea bass, bonito, kingfish, groupers, halibut and an occasional albacore when in season.

Around 15 boats fish the year round with a few more in the months from April through October during the fastest selling period. The men average in age from 20 to 45, although use of the motors is enabling older men to stay at sea.

Fishermen can make good wages with reasonable luck on the catch, especially when their wives help with the marketing. Newport Beach makes no license charge for use of the beach and the fishermen need only a State fish and game license and their necessary equipment to bring in the fish. —Los Angeles Times, February 19, 1950

Newport Beach Shark Captured

Newport Beach—A 7-foot man-eating shark was caught in a light fish net 300 yards off a beach crowded with bathers, a fisherman said Sunday. Dory fisherman Ted Phegley said a 500-pound great white shark was still alive when he found it wound up in his net Saturday. Phegley wrapped a rope around the shark’s tail and towed it ashore through the surf as swimmers retreated from shore. —Long Beach Independent, June 13, 1960

 From This Corner — The Dory Fishermen

 It is early yet; a cottony gray fog bank hovers just off the coast, trailing bits of mist past the still-lighted Newport Beach Pier. Straight as an arrow, a sharp-prowed dory draws toward the beach, knifing its way through the surf. The fisherman in the stern is standing, guiding his laden craft past the pier and onto the shore. A group of waiting children hurries to assist his landing. Rollers are heaved onto the beach along the wooden track leading onto the market area. It must be about 9 a.m.; and the first dory fisherman is in.

The More Things Change—We were waiting for the boats to come in. Newport’s dory fishermen have been plying their trade since we can remember. And their fresh-caught sea trout and rock cod are far better than market fish, if one can get to the beach in time to buy them. The routine of the catch has remained the same. So much so that the State of California has declared the dory fishermen’s area to be a State Historical Monument. And to us, a personal historical memory as well. In spite of radar-equipped craft with sonar fish-sighting equipment and all that, the dories still go out early in the morning to fish the banks in a natural way. One dory, an engine, one man, and his baited lines: to seek the deep-lying sea trout and rock cod (and an occasional halibut), and then to bring in the catch and sell it, fresh from the boat. The dories are moved up to the selling space by means of metal rollers and volunteer help. After unloading the outboard motors, gas, tackle, and other materials, the boats are converted into individual fish markets with colorful beach umbrellas shading the sales area. The wives of the fishermen serve as saleswomen.

Weight scales, newspaper wrappings, sharp fileting knives and trash barrels are laid out. A crowd of housewives has appeared, and questions begin:  “How much is rock cod today?” “Forty cents a pound, Mrs. Blaine, and how is your son doing?” A typical market day. Fileting knives flash as the types of fish are selected. The scales bounce; papers surround the purchases; tourists gasp and say: “Look, he has a gold ring in his ear. And his wife looks like a hippie!” The young people who have been working since before dawn give each other a wry look; they have been doing this work since they were children, but they dress as they please.  “May she be swallowed,” whispers one, eyeing the tourist who criticized her.

 “The More They Remain the Same—.” When we were very small children we used to come to Newport for the summer, and we’d visit the dory fishermen. They wore yellow sou’westers and seemed to us to be very old and wise and gnarled. They told us they could “smell—the places where the fish were—and we believed them implicitly.  After all, they caught the fish. Their ample, dark-eyed Portuguese wives would tell scary stories ‘bout the manta rays which washed unwary men overboard; or of giant squid which were just waiting outside the jetty to lure curious children into the sea.

We would shudder with apprehension and run home to tell breathless stories of these fishermen who braved the terrors of the deep. But we would be waiting, each morning, to help bring in the dories; to hear the stories of what was caught, and how many, and what strange adventures occurred. And this August, 1970, the youngsters were still waiting for the dories to come in—still helping the fishermen to bring up their boats to the market—still waiting for te tales of the glamorous deeps, from the men with gold ear-rings in their ears. —Sheila Thompson, Pasadena Independent, September 23, 1970

Fish Scare Eating Into Cash Registers

Recent findings of contaminated fish in Santa Monica and San Pedro bays have put a health scare into some Orange County residents, resulting in a business decline for many local fish merchants and eateries…

The fish scare began earlier this month when the Los Angeles Regional Water Quality Control Board and the state Health Services Department issued warnings about consumption of fish taken from Santa Monica and San Pedro bays. Both agencies have called for further investigation of the dangerous levels of toxic chemicals if fish caught in the two bays.

About 20 miles down the coast from San Pedro Bay, at the foot of the Newport Beach Pier, customers have been scarce for the dory fishermen. Made up of 14 family operators who fish from their small boats and sell their catch, Newport’s dory fleet long has been a popular open-air market for fresh fish.

But now, said a solemn Carl Marberry “everybody down here thinks we’re selling people poison fish.” Marberry, 28, added that if it had not been for the toxic scare, he could have made $400 instead of $40 from the mackerel he caught during the dark hours of Wednesday morning. “They (customers) just don’t show like they usually do.”

Nearby, another dory fisherman, JoAnn Brey, wrapped up some red snapper and whiting for the only customer at her stand. Brey said it was unfair that she and other local fishermen are suffering because of the controversy up the coast. She called the situation “a bunch of political b.s.” —Heidi Evans, Los Angeles Times, April 25, 1985

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Additional stories on the history of Newport’s Dory Fleet 

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #1 —1934

1935http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-1/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #2 —1950

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-2-—-1950/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #3 —1969 

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-3-—-1969/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #4 — 1971

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-4-—-1971/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #5 — 1973

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-5-—-1973/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #6 — 1988

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-6-—-1988/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Looking Back #7 — 1989

http://kenjonesfishing.com/2018/03/the-newport-beach-dory-fleet-—-looking-back-7-—-1989/

If you have read Pier Fishing in California you should be able to answer the following questions without breaking a sweat. If you can’t, I expect you to sleep the next seven nights with the book under your pillow. Just pretend it’s a love letter from your first boyfriend, girlfriend — or whatever.  By the way, the answers will be given at the bottom. And shame on those who do not have the book, you should get it.  

You will need to write your answers on a piece of paper.

Nitty Gritty California Pier Trivia Quiz #1

Citizen’s Dock                      Imperial Beach Pier              Berkeley Pier

Elephant Rock Pier              Seacliff State Beach Pier

Leopard Shark                      Round Stingray                    Bat Ray

            Brown Smoothhound Shark           Common Thresher Shark               

1. The end of this pier  is a sunken “concrete ship.”

2. This pier calls itself the most “southwesterly pier in the United States.”

3. This pier was built by the citizens of the town after a tidal wave washed away their former wharf.

4. This pier was the first to be funded and renovated by the California Wildlife Conservation Board.

5. When built, this pier was supposed to be reserved for kids.

6. Populations very dependent on water temperature; as the water temperature rises so does the presence of these fish.

7. These can be pests in areas that grow oysters commercially.

8. Extremely common in San Francisco Bay; one of the most numerous fish at some piers.

9. Caught throughout California but most common in San Francisco Bay.

10. Typically found in deep water but ventures surfside at night (so they can visit the piers).

Nitty Gritty Pier Trivia Quiz  #2

            Vallejo Pier              Newport Pier           Paradise Cove Pier  

                        Aliso Beach Pier                               Green Pleasure Pier

            Striped Bass                          Senorita                     Cabezon        

Candlestick Point Pier                     Belmont Shores Pier

1. Only twenty yellow snake eels have ever been landed in California. The largest ever taken of the species was a 34 1/2 inch specimen landed on a California pier.  On which pier was it landed

2. Although many piers have appeared in movies, television shows, and commercials, only one, to my knowledge, has been the home (sort of) to a television series. Hint: think of Jim Garner and the Rockford Files. Which pier?

3. Although fishing can be excellent from this pier, it is almost always empty of anglers during many Sundays in the Fall. Which pier and why?

4. A 194-pound, eight-foot-long white sturgeon was taken at this pier in 1980. Which pier?

5. This pier sits next to the last commercial dory fishing fleet on the West Coast. Which pier?

6. This pier is probably the best  is California from which to catch halfmoons (blue perch) or moray eels. Which pier?

7. This pier was built in a diamond shape so that anglers would be offered more railing space (they could fish in the middle of the pier).

8. Sometimes people don’t eat the meat of this fish because it is green or blue colored when they clean the fish. They’re missing a treat! Upon cooking, the meat turns white and is delicious. The roe however, is poisonous.

9. Although primarily known as a saltwater fish, the California record for the species was caught in a freshwater lake.

10. These fish are probably the best “bait stealers” in the state.

                      Nitty Gritty California Pier Trivia Quiz  #3

            Santa Monica Pier                Ocean Beach Pier                  Pier 7 

                        Capitola Wharf                                San Mateo Pier

     Manhattan Beach Pier         Crystal Pier               Adorni Fishing Pier            

Candlestick Point Pier                     South Beach Harbor Marina Pier

1. The Round House Marine Lab sits out at the end of this pier.

2. This is the only pier on the West Coast with cabins built over the blue Pacific.

3. The Pacific Park amusement park is located on this pier.

4. This pier sits next to Pac Bell Park, the home of the San Francisco Giants.

5. This pier is supposed to be the longest concrete pier in the world.

6. This pier sits within the oldest seaside resort on the Pacific Coast.

7. This pier is part of a beautiful recreation center.

8. A common name given to this pier by anglers who fish this pier is the shark pier. What is the real name.

9. This pier sits next to the former home of the San Francisco Giants.

10. More commercials are filmed at this pier than any other pier in northern California.

Answers to Nitty Gritty California Pier Trivia Quiz #1

(1)  Seacliff State Beach Pier  (2)  Imperial Beach Pier (3)  Citizen’s Dock  (4)  Berkeley Pier (5) Elephant Rock Pier (6) Round Stingray (7) Bat Rays  (8)  Brown Smoothhound Shark  (9) Leopard Shark (10) Common Thresher Shark

Answers to Nitty Gritty California Pier Trivia Quiz #2

(1) Belmont Shores Pier (2)  Paradise Cove Pier  (3) Candlestick Point Pier     (4) Vallejo Pier (5) Newport Pier (6) Green Pleasure Pier — Avalon (7) Aliso Beach Pier ( Cabezon (9) Striped Bass (10) Senorita

Answers to Nitty Gritty California Pier Trivia Quiz #3

(1)  Manhattan Beach Pier (2) Crystal Pier (3) Santa Monica Pier (4) South Beach Harbor Marina Pier (5) Ocean Beach Pier (6) Capitola Wharf (7) Adorni Fishing Pier ( San Mateo Pier (9) Candlestick Point Pier (10) Pier 7

Fishing Around by Donnell Cupepper

Talk about hard luck! Bill Towbridge, of 7731 Lombardi, Fontana, can tell you a thing or two about fishing on piers.

Bill was fishing on Newport Pier the other day with a heavy ocean outfit and a tight drag. Newport Pier has no high rail, just a six-inch plank along the edge.

Bill got a vicious strike while holding the outfit, tried to hang on, became overbalanced and fell off the pier. He held on to the rod and started swimming toward shore.

Once there, he reeled in the fish, a halibut that weighed 6 pounds, 7 ounces. At that moment two wardens from the Department of Fish and Game accosted him and asked for his license. Bill had none and explained that he was fishing off the pier and didn’t need one.

The wardens, either trying to be funny or pressing for a charge, demanded proof. Bill took them out on the pier and introduced them to his fishing buddy, who promptly backed up his story.

Every one parted friends and Bill and his pal went ahead with their fishing.

No license is needed to fish off piers, land-connected moles and docks, but the state demands that a surf fisherman have a license regardless of what he catches.

Long Beach Independent Press Telegram, October 14, 1960

After posting this story to the Pier Fishing In California Message Board, Our expert on all things Newport, Snookie, posted the following reply: “From the early 40′s to the late 50′s only three people went off the pier accidentally. One was a drunk and he swam to shore, returned, and got under the blankets he had brought to warm up. The other two were a father and child about 5 years old. The child fell in and the father jumped in to save him, but the father forgot he didn’t know how to swim. Betty Phoenix took the big net and got them up by using it. All were well. Given that Snookie started fishing the Newport Pier in the early ’50s, and has chronicled events  on the pier most of her life, that’s good enough for me.