Ken Jones - Writer & Pierfisherman » Sablefish

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

kenjones — Thu, 15 Mar 2018 22:00:45 +0000

Hunky Dory — Plucking Fish From a Dangerous Ocean in a Small Boat: ‘This, It’s Not Easy, You Know?’ Says One Who Does It

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/

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 #6 — 1988

kenjones — Thu, 15 Mar 2018 22:00:17 +0000

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/

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

kenjones — Thu, 15 Mar 2018 21:59:10 +0000

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/

The Newport Beach Dory Fleet — Through The Years

kenjones — Sun, 11 Mar 2018 22:25:50 +0000

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/

Sablefish

kenjones — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 01:03:25 +0000

Sablefishes—Family Anoplopomatidae

Adult sablefish caught by fishermen in the “Dory Fleet” that sits next to the Newport Pier

Species: Anoplopoma fimbria (Pallas, 1814); from the Greek words anoplis (unarmed) and poma (operculum or gill cover), and the Latin word fimbria (fringe).

Alternate Names: Commercially called blackcod in Washington and butterfish in California. Other names include Alaska blackcod, coalfish, coal cod, candlefish, black candlefish, bluecod, deep sea trout, zipperfish, sable, skil-fish, skil, and skill. Called t’thémekwe by the Salish in British Columbia, sqel or skil by the Haida, and hádání by the Heiltsuk. Called bacalao negro in Mexico.

Identification: Elongate (cod-shaped) tapering to the tail. Two widley-spaced dorsal fins. Adult coloring is usually blackish-gray on the back and sides, gray to white below; young fish taken from piers are generally pale greenish-colored on top and sides fading to white.

Typical juvenile sablefish seen on piers — Monterey Wharf #2 on July 20, 2013

Size: To over 40 inches and 56 pounds although most caught from piers are young fish under a foot in length. Sablefish can live to about 55 years of age so the bigger fish are generally old fish.

Range: Islas San Benito and Isla Cedros, central Baja, California to the Aleutian Islands and the Bering Sea south of St. Lawrence Island, Alaska. Also, Kamchatka, Russia, south to Hatsu Shima Island, southern Japan; usually in extremely deep water.

Habitat: Adult fish are caught in deep water, often over a thousand feet deep, and prefer areas of blue clay or mud. Young fish, to a foot long or so, are often found in fairly shallow areas, especially to the north. There is also a difference in habitat north and south; in southern California, sablefish are almost always found in deep-water areas, in northern California, Eureka north, sablefish will sometimes be found in shallower water.

Piers: Sablefish are never really common to California piers although piers adjacent to deep-water canyons may see a few each year. At times, vast schools will move in around piers and thousands of the fish will be caught. Best bets: Newport Pier, Balboa Pier, Redondo Beach Pier, and Monterey Wharf No. 2. In the far north, where sablefish become a more shallow-water fish, they will sometimes show up during the summer months in Humboldt Bay and a few will fall to anglers fishing from Eureka area piers. I have seen small specimens taken from the Pismo Beach Pier, the Capitola Wharf, and Monterey Wharf #2, all in Central California.

Sablefish taken from the San Simeon Pier on August 17, 2015

Shoreline: Rarely taken by shore anglers.

Boats: Rarely taken by boaters in southern California although they’re sometimes taken by rockcod anglers fishing in deep waters off Santa Cruz and Monterey.

Bait and Tackle: On piers a high/low rigging baited with strips of squid is the preferred method. On boats they are generally taken on typical rockcod tackle.

Food Value: Adult sablefish are one of the best tasting smoked fish. In fact, many people like the rich buttery flavor of sablefish better than salmon. For a period of time when I worked in the corporate world one of the areas I visited was Seattle and I soon found a fish restaurant on the waterfront, Ivar’s Acres of Clams, that served smoked sablefish. That one dish prompted several additional visits. Since then I do not believe I have ever seen sablefish on a restaurant menu although I have seen smoked sablefish for sale in Santa Cruz, Morro Bay and Fort Bragg. In addition, fresh sablefish is one of the staple items at the dory fleet at the foot of Newport Pier (although you need to get there early in the morning before the fish is sold out). Unfortunately the young sablefish that occasionally visit piers are not quite as rich flavored. Nevertheless they are still best smoked or broiled, methods which gives the flavor a chance to show itself. Do not, repeat, do not, pan-fry or deep-fry sablefish. The results will be an inferior piece of over oily meat.

Sablefish caught by “PolishfromtheDeep at the Pismo Beach Pier on August 8, 2010

Comments: One of my favorite fish simply because it is an uncommon treat!

My first big day pier fishing took place at the Newport Pier in September 10, 1962 and involved sablefish. I had arrived, as usual, at the crack of dawn, and was fishing just down from the northwest corner. I was using squid for bait and had experienced very little early success. However, around 5:30 A.M., I had a strike and pulled in an ebony-colored fish—a type I had never caught before. The next cast yielded two more of these strange colored fish and I continued to catch fish, nearly every cast, for the next two hours. Strangely, only two other anglers were having similar success. Most anglers were going fishless at Newport. Later, I found out the fish were sablefish, a deep-water fish more common to northern waters. Upon cleaning the fish, I also found the reason for my success. The fish were stuffed with squid that were schooling in the waters near to the pier. Anglers who were using squid for bait, and there were only a few, were catching the fish. I caught 47 sablefish that day, but it was only a start. I continued to catch fish: large jacksmelt, Pacific mackerel and jack mackerel—77 fish in all. And, quite appropriately, I also caught a small squid. It was, mirabile dictu, one of the best days I ever had at the pier even though the fishing probably would have been considered poor for most of my fellow anglers that day. Six weeks later, October 27, saw the catch of six additional sablefish although this time it was in the evening. It was the only times I have ever caught sablefish at a pier.

As said, they are a deep water fish and generally only encountered if you are fishing really deep waters. During the ’70s, I frequently fished on the Stagnaro rock cod boats (Stagnaro #1 and Stagnaro #2) out of the Santa Cruz Wharf and we would fish some really deep water reefs. Occasionally, when the boats would drift over a muddy area, we would pull in some big sablefish and some big Pacific hake. No one wanted the hake but everyone wanted the sablefish. Generally though they are primarily taken by commercial fishermen fishing in REALLY DEEP water. Another place I caught them, although this time from a barge, was in Redondo Beach. A trip on the barge California in July 1978 saw me catch five sablefish (if you catch one you’ll usually catch more) during a full night of fishing that produced 77 fish of six different species.

Sablefish taken from the Capitola Wharf on July 2, 2013

Perhaps the best example of deep-water fish showing up at a California pier was a run of sablefish that took place at Wharf #2 in 1947. The numbers of both fish and anglers seems unbelievable—but the invasion was well documented!

Sablefish Run At Monterey Bay

For the first time in history, sablefish (Anoplopoma fimbria) appeared in vast numbers in the vicinity of Monterey and were caught by the thousands from the municipal pier. The run was first discovered on the afternoon of July 11th; word of the bonanza spread rapidly, and the pier was soon crowded with anglers. Men, women, and children stood shoulder to shoulder, with a varied assortment of tackle, all hauling in fish as fast as they could throw in their lines. Boxes, sacks, five-gallon cans, and washtubs were rapidly filled with 12 to 20-inch fish. Slack periods occurred during the morning and again in the afternoons, but they were of short duration usually lasting only half an hour or less; then the fish would be back seemingly in greater numbers than before. Each day the pier would be jammed with crowds of from 2,000 to 3,500 fishermen and spectators, some having driven as far as 200 miles.

On July 26th, the run stopped as abruptly as it had begun, and although over 5,000 fishermen were on hand the next day, only a few fish were caught. During the 15 days of the run, the Bureau of Patrol Division of Fish and Game, estimated that over 110 tons had been landed.

— Keith W. Cox, Bureau of Marine Fisheries, California Division of Fish and Game, September, 1947

One of the best places to see sablefiish is at the Newport Dory fleet that sits next to the Newport Pier.

An interesting article on the increasing popularity of sablefish at upscale restaurants is one by Marian Burros in the New York Times. Titled “The Fish That Swam Uptown,” it calls sablefish “the Cinderella of the seafood world” and “discusses the popularity of sablefish and several ways it is prepared.

http://www.nytimes.com/2001/05/16/dining/the-fish-that-swam-uptown.html

Some sablefish taken on the Stagnaro #2 partyboat out of Stagnaro Sportfishing in Santa Cruz on June 6, 1975

Sablefish

kenjones — Mon, 01 Dec 2014 01:34:53 +0000

Sablefishes—Family Anoplopomatidae

Sablefish from Monterey Wharf #2

Species: Anoplopoma fimbria (Pallas, 1814); from the Greek words anoplis (unarmed) and poma (operculum or gill cover), and the Latin word fimbria (fringe).

Identification: Elongate (cod-shaped) tapering to the tail. Two widly-spaced dorsal fins. Adult coloring is usually blackish-gray on the back and sides, gray to white below; young fish taken from piers are generally pale greenish-colored on top and sides fading to white.

A small sablefish caught by polishfromthedeep from the Pismo Beach Pier

Size: To over 40 inches and 56 pounds although most caught off piers are young fish under a foot in length.

Habitat: Adult fish are caught in deep water, often over a thousand feet deep, and prefer areas of blue clay or mud. Young fish, to a foot long or so, are often found in fairly shallow areas. There is also a difference in habitat north and south; in southern California, sablefish are almost always found in deep-water areas, in northern California (Eureka north), sablefish will sometimes be in shallower water.

An adult sablefish — From Alaska Seafoods

Piers: Sablefish are never really common to California piers although piers adjacent to deep-water canyons may see a few each year. At times, vast schools will move in around piers and thousands of the fish will be caught. Best bets: Newport Pier, Balboa Pier, Redondo Beach Pier, and Monterey Wharf No. 2. In the far north, where sablefish become a more shallow-water fish, they will sometimes show up during the summer months in Humboldt Bay and a few will fall to anglers fishing from Eureka area piers. I have also seen small specimens taken from the Pismo Beach Pier and Capitola Wharf.

A young sablefish from the Capitola Wharf

Shoreline: Rarely taken by shore anglers.

Boats: Rarely taken by boaters in southern California although they’re commonly taken by rockcod anglers fishing in deep waters off Santa Cruz and Monterey.

Bait and Tackle: On piers a high/low rigging baited with strips of squid is the preferred method. On boats they are generally taken on typical rockcod tackle.

Food Value: Adult sablefish are one of the best tasting smoked fish. In fact, many people like the rich buttery flavor of sablefish better than salmon. Young sablefish are not quite as rich flavored or good, but they are still best smoked or broiled, methods which gives the flavor a chance to show itself. Do not, repeat, do not, pan-fry or deep-fry sablefish. The results will be an inferior piece of over oily meat.

An early ad promoting the sale of sablefish

Comments: One of my favorite fish simply because it is an uncommon treat! Sablefish can live to about 55 years of age.

From the California Fish & Game — California Fish and Game, January 30, 1948 Volume 34, No. 1 —Notes 37

Sablefish Run at Monterey Bay

— Keith W. Cox, Bureau of Marine Fisheries,
California Division of Fish and Game, September, 1947

Monterey Wharf #2

kenjones — Thu, 15 May 2014 02:11:02 +0000

Monterey Municipal Wharf #2

The floating docks of Monterey Harbor and the pilings beneath Municipal Wharf II provide a rich and diverse community created largely by human activity. Such communities have imaginatively been called “accidental zoos.”… At low tide the pilings, shaded by the wharf, form an intertidal zone without algae and without herbivores. Familiar, no; informative, yes! … zonation is sharply delineated. The mussel/barnacle zone is out of water much of the time. A little lower, in a zone immersed most of the time, live aggregating anemones… Still lower and approaching the low-tide level, a flash of red reveals strawberry anemones, usually subtidal organisms that only infrequently are exposed to air. This community is spared many of the vicissitudes of rocky intertidal life—no burning sun and UV light, no pounding surf, little osmotic stress from direct rain… Subtidally, the pilings are a treasure trove of biological interactions. Huge ochre sea stars engorge themselves with mussels. Nudibranches cluster about their anemone prey. Anemone clones… do battle across strictly demarcated no-man’s-lands. And here we find unusual organisms such as phoronids, enigmatic suspension feeders that we have not seen elsewhere along Monterey’s shores. A wharf is a spooky place to dive. It’s dark, with visibility often only an arm’s length. Fishing lines threaten entanglement, and raucous sea lions flash by. But we have a strong incentive to keep returning to this distinctive habitat, where something new seems to lurk behind each piling.

—Lovell Langstroth and Libby Langstroth

A Living Bay, The Underwater World of Monterey Bay, 2000

End section of Monterey Wharf #2

There are some piers that seem to have a yin and yang disposition, if you know what I mean. The action can be hot or cold, good or bad, peaceful or hectic; moods that seem to depend upon some sort of unwritten script dictated (in romantic terms) by the gods, in realistic terms by the seasons or the whims of sometimes-unpredictable fish. Two stories, one good and one bad, show the schizoid nature of this pier.

The first story, the good or yang, occurred in July of 1984 while I was making one of my annual trips along the coast. I had stayed the night in Morro Bay, gotten up early and fished for an hour and a half at the Cayucos Pier. The pier was crowded and everyone seemed to be catching fish. Midway out, anglers were catching bucketfuls of small bocaccio, but I had seen far too many of the small fish the night before at the Morro Bay North T-Pier. Instead, I joined a throng of anglers out near the end of the pier casting artificial lures for Pacific mackerel and jack mackerel. The result was 15 fish for my fairly short visit. Next, I stopped at the San Simeon Pier, again for an hour and a half. Mackerel were absent but small bocaccio and lingcod covered the bottom. The result was 21 fish.

However, I was running late and headed north. In just under three hours I had traveled the beautiful Big Sur coastline and was fishing at the Monterey Wharf #2. But I wasn’t alone! The wharf was lined with anglers catching Pacific mackerel while reporters and television cameras tried to capture the torrid action. The sea itself was calm but as I watched the water a dark ball would form: a school of anchovies several feet thick and solid with fish. But a second school of fish, predators by nature, was also present and the mackerel in that school were larger and faster than the anchovies. Soon the mackerel would attack and the anchovy school would disintegrate as individual anchovies literally fled for their life. It was a Roman holiday, nature at its most vivid, and showed true the old adage survival of the fittest. The anchovies seemed to be using the pier and its pilings for protection but the pier proved to be a Maginot line of defense as the mackerel shredded the school of anchovies time after time. The mackerel were after the quick little baitfish and the anglers were after the mackerel. Mixed in with the “Mac Attack” were a few jack mackerel and, if an angler dropped bait to the bottom, small bocaccio and lizardfish. Again it seemed almost too easy as an hour and a half of fishing produced 32 fish. The highlight of an already excellent day was the torrid action and excitement at this Monterey wharf.

An April visit a few years later proved entirely different, it was the yin or or counterweight to to my earlier visit. I had stayed the night in Monterey and gotten up early for a somewhat apprehensive “hour of the pearl” visit to the wharf. Why apprehensive? (1) Because of the bone chilling, 40 mile-per-hour winds that had accompanied a walk out on Fisherman’s Wharf the prior night. (2) Because of reports that said fishing was slow. Undeterred, my 6:10 A.M. arrival at Wharf #2 saw a beautiful morning sky emerge replete with a warming sun and the absence of any wind. Absolutely beautiful conditions! I was the only fisherman on the wharf, I had my pick of fishing spots, and I was soon at a spot that had proven to be successful on previous trips. I was even next to a silver fire hydrant that said “Jones 1981” on the side. Was it a harbinger of good things to come or did it portend gloom? Was I destined to have one of those unbelievable days that happen just once in a blue moon or was I in for the BIG disappointment? I wasn’t sure but I was prepared: several different kinds of bait, light and medium action poles, and a warm thermos of coffee.

As the Frankie Boy II arrived at the wharf, made fast the rope between boat and bollard, and began to unload its catch of squid, I made my first cast and began to wait. I waited and waited and then waited some more. I moved to different spots, I tried different depths, and I tried different baits and riggings. In two hours of fishing I had nary a nibble and was able to see why I was the only fisherman on the wharf—not counting the commercial guys still busy unloading their squid. To make it worse, the wind did come up, the kind of wind that required two shirts, a sweater AND a heavy jacket. Turned out that fishing had been lousy (terrible/appalling/horrible—pick your adjective) for several weeks and it didn’t intend to improve just because this famous pier fisherman was present. I was fishless in Monterey. Such is the nature of this pier.

The end section of the wharf

Environment. Most visitors to Monterey seems to wind up down at the wharf during their visit. Many do not realize there are two wharves. The more famous is Fisherman’s Wharf, built in 1870 on the site of California’s first wharf and today home to restaurants, tourist shops, and a couple of Sportfishing landings. Adjacent, to the east, is a newer wharf that was constructed in 1926 (and repaired in 1983). Here, the commercial fishermen unload their catch and sport anglers try to make a catch. Fisherman’s Wharf deserves its praise; it is a fun place to visit, and it has a certain charm when the sea lions are barking and the sea otters are drifting on top of the bay. Still, for the pier fisherman Wharf #2 is the place to go.

Wharf #2 is fairly long at 1,636 feet, and fairly wide at 86 feet, but several sections do not allow fishing. The inshore section on the south side of the wharf (to about half way out) faces the boat harbor and is marked no fishing. The far end of the wharf is primarily a working area for commercial boats and also marked no fishing. The area on the south side just past the first building (near where the pier widens) was an area that I used to like to fish for perch but it appears now to also be a no fishing zone. Bottom line: the wharf is open to anglers on probably 75% of the north side of the pier.

The result is that the north side of the pier is heavily fished all the way from the shallow water surf area (which is generally mild) to about three quarters distance out on the wharf where water is fairly deep. At the foot of the wharf is a sandy beach area, the beginning of Monterey State Beach, a popular stretch of sand that extends from the wharf up past Seaside and beyond. (However, just to confuse things, the beach on which the wharf is located is called the Monterey Municipal Beach, just up the shore is the Window on the Bay Beach, and just up from that is the Del Monte Beach.)

Angler on the wharf — Mike Granat

Because the breakwater and the various structures in the harbor area block water currents from the south, the water north of the pier is usually very calm. For that reason it’s become a favorite place to take beginning divers and because of the divers we have a good picture of what the bottom looks like to the north of the pier. Near shore, the bottom is sand, the water is shallow, and there are extensive beds of sand dollars (that attract fish like starry flounder and wolf eels). Sand-frequenting species such as surfperch tend to dominate the catch in this area. A short distance further out sees flatfish—sanddab, C-O turbot, starry flounder and numerous California halibut. Apparently the divers also record good numbers of thornback rays, bat rays and even some big electric rays.

The harbor area blocks water from the south

The sand then gives way to small beds of eelgrass containing numerous juvenile fish while about 200 yards out from the beach begins a large shale reef known as the Tanker Reef or Shale Beds. Bull and giant kelp attach to the shale while crevices hold octopus and fish.

Use the information to fish the zones: in the shallowest water expect the big surfperch (barred and calico), in slightly deeper water target flatfish, batoids (rays) and a few selachians (sharks). Of course the wharf is long, so anglers can reach water depths that range from moderate to fairly deep and the deeper water is generally the area to try for pelagic species. When schools of sardines, jacksmelt, or mackerel (Spanish and Pacific) make a visit, expect the pier to be lined with anglers casting out bait rigs. Most people will catch fish but do be careful of tangles and use simple courtesy since space will be at a premium.

When the mackerel are absent many of the lines in the mid-pier area will be directed down around the pilings. The pilings are often blanketed by all manner of sea creatures but most important, for the anglers, they are sometimes heavily covered by mussels. In addition, especially during the summer and fall, there can be large buildups of kelp around the pilings. Food and shelter means small fish which usually also means larger fish. Typically schools of perch, a few rockfish (mostly juveniles), cabezon, small lingcod, and, during some years, pesky senorita hang under and around the pilings. Of course, like most piers along this section of the California coast, there can be tremendous variation from year to year (again, the yin and the yang).

Best Dive in Monterey?

What is the best dive in Monterey Bay? … Lynn May, former owner of the Silver Prince dive boat, could dive anywhere he wanted. He claimed that the best dive in Monterey Bay was underneath Wharf #2. Beneath the wharf is a three-dimensional structure that has something interesting to see, from the water line all the way down to the 30-foot bottom. From the bottom, the pilings appear as Grecian columns reaching skyward.

The pilings of the wharf provide a substrate for an army of invertebrate life to cling to and flourish, and each has its own personality. Some are covered from the water line to the bottom with a lush carpet of corynactis anemones. Individual colonies may be fluorescent red, bright orange, lavender, or even shades of pink. Members of a colony show the same color, and colonies of different colors cover some pilings in a mosaic pattern resembling a patchwork quilt.

Other pilings are covered with a lush carpet of snow-white metridium anemones. Still, other columns are covered on their upper portions with the green, aggregating anemones, and in the lower portions with red corynactis anemones. Just to add a little diversity, an occasional piling is relatively barren of growth except for a giant metridium anemone.

Among the anemones hide an assortment invertebrates and fish. Large sheep crabs hang upside down waiting to pounce on some unsuspecting prey. Among the carpet of metridium is always found a small, red octopus or two, and there are numerous shrimp and hermit crabs scurrying among the pilings. Photographers should look for colorful nudibranchs, both up on the pilings and on the mud bottom.

The calm waters provide a nursery for many of the larger fish. I have never seen so many lingcod in one place, none over about 14 inches long and many under 10 inches. Noting that these are much smaller than the allowed minimum size, this is not a hunter’s paradise. It is, however, a pretty good spot for fish portraits. Other fish such as cabezon, various species of flatfish, kelpfish, and rays may be found here in miniature versions. This is a great spot for fish photography.

Wharf #2 is also where Monterey’s commercial fishing fleet discards its incidental catch (e.g., what they can’t sell). Fish packing houses on the wharf continue to dump their waste into the water, and in season you’ll find dead blue sharks, bat rays, and sea lions. This activity is legal and the fish carcasses feed a large population of sea stars.

People always seem to drop things in the water and this place is no exception. The bottom is littered with fishing supplies, wallets, purses, pocket knives, and old bottles. If you can drop it, you will find one here. Regardless, if you search for valuables, memorabilia from the past, or that award winning photo, everyone will find something under the wharf.

— Bruce Watkins, California Diving, October 12, 2000

Pilings can be covered wit sea stars —Mike Granat

Fishing Tips. The pelagic schooling species—Jacksmelt, Pacific sardine, Spanish mackerel (jack mackerel), blue mackerel (Pacific mackerel) and northern anchovy—are the most numerous fish taken from the wharf. Schools of each, in fact vast shoals, may move in and surround the wharf for a few days, weeks or even months throughout the year. Sometimes it’s one species, sometimes it’s a mixed group with the different schools maintaining their assemblage at different water depths, and it can be an amazing sight with the synchronized twisting and turning of the entire school when they’re under attack by one of local sea wolves (sea lions). The sheer number of fish is amazing.

Crowded pier

When the waters are filled with fish the railings will be filled with anglers and they’ll normally tote away buckets filled with fish. A person can literally catch several fish every cast until the arms wear out, and fifty to sixty fish an hour is easy. But even though none of these species has a take limit, don’t overdo it. If you’re looking to stock up on some bait or food it’s the time to go but make sure you’re going to use the fish you keep. Summertime into the fall months seems the best time to see these conditions.

A blackperch caught by “madsteelhead”

Surfperch will normally be the second highest number of fish taken. The numbers will be smaller but you can often find some type of perch much of the year. As a general rule, try winter to spring for the large barred and calico surfperch. Use pile worms, sand crabs, fresh mussels, or plastic grubs and, as said, fish in the shallow water near the beach end of the pier.

A pileperch caught by “madsteelhead”

Winter to spring may also see a few starry flounder but for these flatfish fish on the bottom using cut anchovy or pile worms and fish slightly further out on the pier in a little deeper water.

Late spring to early fall will generally see a few California halibut being caught in the same mid-shallow area. For these, the best bet is almost always live bait such as an anchovy, small shinerperch, or smelt—if you can get them. I have also heard a few reports of the larger flatties hitting on Scrounger-type lures and even on Hair Raisers, so don’t be afraid to give artificial lures a try. The same area can also offer up some tasty sand sole but for these, use a high/low rigging baited with pile worms, shrimp or cut anchovy. (And though divers report C-O turbot, most of the mid-size flatfish I have seen have been sand sole). By the way, the beach at the foot of the pier sometimes sees grunion visiting the shoreline during the summer. When the grunion run the halibut (and bat rays) often are right behind in the shallows. Target the flatties during such times.

Mid-pier to the end is the best area for the smaller surfperch and the pelagics. For walleye and silver surfperch, a small piece of anchovy or sea worm seems to work best when fished mid-depth using a size 6 hook. Jacksmelt, although often taken simply with bait rigs, sometimes prefer a baited hook and a leader made up of four to six size 8 hooks. Attach the hooks nine inches apart, bait each with a small piece of pile worm or shrimp, and fish the rig under a heavy bobber or float. The result is often several fish at a time.

Pacific mackerel

As mentioned, many years see huge schools of Pacific mackerel, jack mackerel, Pacific sardine, or all three. Best bet for all of these is a multi-hook Sabiki/Lucky Lura-type leader with size 8, 6 or 4 hooks (size depending upon the species). Simply cast out and retrieve the leader or slowly work the leader up and down in the water after you have reached a mid-depth area. All three species (along with jacksmelt) seem to hit best at dawn and dusk but some days will see non-stop action all day long. The same rigging can be used for anchovies but use smaller hooks. Pacific herring will also occasionally make visits to the pier and can be taken with the same multi-hook bait rigs; most herring runs are in the late winter or spring months.

Common, although rarely in the numbers seen at other piers in Monterey Bay, are kingfish (white croaker). Most of these are taken on cut anchovies or pile worms fished on a high/low rigging; the best area to fish is mid-pier with a cast away from the pier.

Summer and fall is the best time for small rockfish, and here the most common are small blue rockfish, brown rockfish, gopher rockfish and kelp rockfish. Fish for these under and around the pilings using pile worms and small hooks. At times, if the water is warm, you may also encounter some more southern species like blacksmith, garibaldi and kelp bass but they are not really common. However, another southern species, one that is often too common, is senorita. These pesky, cigar-shaped little wrasses will do their best to drive you crazy while stripping your hooks of bait (although you’ll catch an occasional careless fish). Unfortunately, when they’re present they are almost impossible to avoid.

Blue Rockfish

Fishing mid-depth around the pilings, using pile worms, fresh mussels or small (sidewinder) crabs is the best technique for the large pileperch and rubberlip seaperch. Each of these large perch is most prevalent during the winter to spring months but can show up throughout the year. Large rubberlips will also often fall for plastic grubs jigged up and down near the pilings; regulars say the root beer colored and oil colored grubs work best. Fishing on the bottom near the pilings with pile worms, fresh mussels, or small pieces of market shrimp will yield rainbow seaperch, blackperch and striped seaperch. Typically these are most common in the spring months although all may be encountered almost any month of the year.

Another perch caught here is the sharpnose seaperch, a perch common only to Monterey Bay and a fish normally found in deeper water. These perch are present in some number almost every year, but occasionally the pier will see large runs of the fish, most often in June and July. Although numerous, they can be difficult to catch. Regulars tend to use rigging that consists of a size 6 or 8 hook at the end of the light line, a splitshot sinker about two to three feet up from the hook, and a tiny bobber that keeps the hook only a few feet beneath the surface of the water. The line is watched closely and, when the bobber is submerged, a quick jerk is made to hopefully hook the perch.

Sharpnose Seaperch

A fish that is sometimes found in unbelievable numbers, especially during the summer, is that little ol’ dab—the speckled sanddab. If you mistakenly let a line rigged with small hooks (such as a multi-hook bait rig) rest on the bottom, a dab may show up on every hook. Unfortunately, the sanddab are big enough to grab your bait but too small to eat. Most days would probably yield hundreds of these small fish if anglers fished for them but we’re talking tiny sanddabs here, each 3-6 inches long and useful only as an attractant for larger fish. I have tried them as bait but with no success to date. The good news is that sometimes the larger Pacific sanddab may also show up. If they do, you’ll often catch 2-3 at a time and you’ve got some good eatin’ available to you.

Sanddabs

A trio of prized sport fish, also visit the pier. Most years will see some king salmon caught during the late summer to fall months (but primarily in the fall). The majority of the kings will fall to lures (especially 5/8 or 3/4 oz Krocodile lures with silver/blue prism colors) while a lesser number will be landed on whole frozen anchovies fished under a bobber. Regulars report that the salmon prefer the early evening hours. Most years will also see a few striped bass taken from the wharf, again during the summer months. Most of the stripers are taken using lures (such as Hair Raisers) or while fishing on the bottom with live shiners or cut bait (sardines or anchovies). Early winter (November) will often see casters trying for small steelhead along the inshore section of the wharf. Various jigs and spoons seem to be the preferred method for the 16-22 inch fish, but I would think worms might also work. There has been a problem with people snagging salmon and to a lesser degree the other fish and the city has tried to respond with some reasonable rules as seen in the following:

New Rules For Fishing Off Wharf II

For the last couple of falls when the salmon are present off of Wharf 2, there has been a frenzy of people casting overhead and standing on the railing trying to catch or snag one of these fish. Overhead casting and the jerking motion associated with trying to snag the fish, all while standing on the railing, presents dangers to anyone walking or driving behind these activities. There have been, in fact, several serious injuries directly related to this, and numerous broken car windows and dented car hoods from sinkers and hooks being cast backward. Therefore the City Council has made it illegal to stand on the railing while fishing off of Wharf 2., as well as making it illegal to overhead cast.

—The Newsletter of the City of Monterey Waterfront, October 2003

Typical gamefish are salmon, striped bass and halibut but this yellowtail (a SoCal species) made the mistake of visiting in 2012

A less common fish, although one that grows to fairly good size, is wolf eels, and generally a few of these interesting creatures will be landed each year by anglers fishing down around the pilings. My bias is showing here but I recommend letting them go. They’re neat little (and large) creatures.

Although the pier is not really noted as a good pier for sharks, it can be, at times, fairly good for bat rays (especially in the fall). Most of these large rays are taken at night while using squid as bait. Be sure to bring a stout rope and a good-sized net if you’re after these powerful fighters. And, say a prayer—it isn’t easy keeping them away from the pilings, kelp, and remnants of the commercial fleet that sometimes litters the water. Lesser numbers of other sharks and rays are taken—leopard sharks, smoothhounds, and a few thornback rays. At least one angel shark was also reported from the wharf (1999).

Another visitor, although not as frequent now as in years past, is the common market squid (Loligo opalescens). When the squid schooled in the nearshore waters, anglers would flock to the pier at night and land buckets of the tasty little “calamari.” Generally this occurred mid-May to June, but the numbers seem to have decreased in recent years. However, TheEmptyBucket reported in May of ’06: “Squid were out again tonight at Wharf #2. Not as easy to catch as last night, though. Last night I was able to catch them on a Sabiki. Tonight I tried that for almost two hours while folks on either side of me were slaying them with squid jigs… One of the regulars took pity on me and loaned me a jig and then I started getting them almost immediately. A Sabiki with squid jig attached to the bottom was defiantly the way to go. I put about 40 3-5-inch squid in the freezer… Also had a blast.” Grammar police reported that same month: “FYI, Live squid being caught from the pier on Sabiki rigs. 5-8” range. RF candy for sure!” La mosca posted a note to the PFIC Board in July of ’08 that said: “about a month back, at sundown, I caught live squid, loads of them under and close to the wharf; could see them flashing their colors.” Sin_Coast reported in 2008, “We get ‘em [squid] off Monterey Wharf #2 consistently throughout the summer.” So the squid are still there, not just in the unbelievable numbers of past decades.

In addition, there’s the giant Humboldt squid that have become more prominent in California waters since the ‘90s. At least one giant squid was caught during March of 1998. The two-foot-long mollusk was caught on a lure by the startled angler. At the time, party boats were experiencing a good run of the 2-4-foot-long creatures out in deeper waters. Another non-fish, cephalopod species is octopus and just enough are caught to keep it interesting.

Lastly, you’ll see some people crabbing from the pier but I’ve never really noticed too many crabs being landed. Divers do report good numbers of sheep (spider) crabs hanging on the pilings but few seem to make it into the crab nets. Perhaps there are just too many sea otters in the vicinity.

Onespot fringehead taken from the wharf in 2013

Abalone Nursery — Kelp beds help rockfish population

There’s something fishy going on under Wharf 2. Art Seavey, co-owner of the Monterey Abalone Co., isn’t just growing expensive marine gastropods in the barrels and cages hanging from the pier scaffolding. He’s also helping researchers with their fish studies.

Young rockfish find shelter in and around the red abalone barrels, and oceanographer Jerry Norton of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Association and marine biologist George Isaac of the Department of Fish and Game are monitoring their growth.

Rockfish, sometimes called Pacific red snapper, are a type of groundfish caught by bottom-trawling fishing boats; bocaccio is one of the familiar species. Rockfish have an uncommon trait for marine fish: They give birth to live young, rather than laying eggs. The larvae swim from deeper water to nutrient-rich nearshore areas like piers, where they feed on baby shrimp, crab eggs and other small fish.

“Down at the abalone farm they have those cages with kelp in them, and they make a very rich environment,” said Norton. “The fish take up residence around those cages.” Norton monitors the number of baby rockfish that make it from their birthplace in deeper water to the pier.

From 1970 to 1995, said Norton, the number of rockfish off the Central California coast had declined by 80 percent. “Some of them have become depleted because they haven’t found exactly the right conditions every year,” Norton said. But recent studies show rockfish might be making a comeback. “Beginning in about 1999, there’s been a turnaround in abundance, and we’ve seen much more at the abalone farm and around piers,” Norton said.

Norton thinks the recent increase in numbers of rockfish is due partly to the amount of nutrients along the Central California shore. Places like the Monterey Abalone Co. can play a part, providing the fish an endless buffet and a protected environment in which to grow. Workers at the Abalone Co. also help researchers track the number of fish that make it to shallow water each year… “Something that works out nicely is that when they pull up their cages to clean them and add food, they sometimes trap the little fish, and they save them for me,” said Norton. Isaac, of the Fish and Game Department, has also been studying rockfish collected from among the Monterey Abalone Co. barrels for the past three years. After he looked at several areas where he thought the baby fish might be abundant, he finally looked around the pier. “Sure enough, we found a lot of rockfish,” said Isaac.

Seavey has faced some criticism for his business, mainly from people who think kelp harvesting destroys sea otters’ homes. The Monterey Abalone Co. feeds its 200,000 abalone five tons of kelp from the Monterey Bay a week.

But kelp forests in the Monterey Bay are doing just fine, says one marine biologist. “If you cut the top of kelp, new fronds grow quickly to replace them,” said John O’Brien, who helps the Department of Fish and Game survey kelp forests on the California coast each year. Conditions in the Monterey Bay are highly favorable to kelp growth, he said. “You probably can’t harvest it fast enough to affect its growth.”

The abalone farm has served as a home to other marine creatures over the years. In addition to rockfish, Seavey has seen shrimp, octopuses and lobsters that are far out of their range in the abalone barrels. But Seavey sees so much abalone that he rarely even eats them anymore. “When I go home, the last thing I want to see is an abalone,” he said.

Elisabeth Nadin, Monterey Hearald, February 8, 2003

There are always sea gulls present to keep you company

EMail Messages —

Date: March 2, 1999 — To: Pier Fishing In California Message Board — From: Calder Deyerle —Subject: Monterey Wharf #2

The things that we are catching at the wharf are a few steelhead and a few jacksmelt. I have also seen a couple of perch.

Date: April 16, 2001 — To: PFIC Message Board — From: avidangler —Subject: Monterey Wharf #2

The perch have arrived. Today I saw the first large school of perch under the wharf near the fuel dock (midsection). There were lots of silvers and pileperch, so out came the rod and away I went! The tide was coming up (it was 3:00) and I tied on a 1/3-ounce jighead with a motor oil perch grub. I caught a large rainbow, three rubberlips (one was around 2 lbs), several pileperch, and a few silvers. I had never seen pileperch so aggressively hit artificial grubs like they did today. They swarmed it. My pal James was getting them on a bubble gum pink grub, although not as many. Motor oil was the ticket. Should be many, many perch in the next few months. Those rubberlips are tricky to land on four-pound line near the pilings!

Date: September 30, 2001 — To: PFIC Message Board — From: steelhead — Subject: Monterey salmon “on fire”

Hello everyone, this message might be a little late… but I have to post it anyway. The salmon have arrived in large numbers off the Monterey pier. And I mean LARGE NUMBERS. Schools of 30-40 salmon cruising back and forth in front of the pier. Some of the regulars were catching 20-25 salmon a day in just 5 feet of water. Myself, I caught 6 in just two hours. The salmon came in right after the big thunderstorm we had last week. Since then it has been non-stop action. The bad part is that salmon season ends today… so get down there today if you can. Steelhead

Posted by jason chin

Treble hooks with a feather does not count. Jason “bayrunner”

Date: May 4, 2002 — To: PFIC Message Board — From: avidangler — Subject: Monterey Wharf #2

James and I fished the pier at around nine this morning for perch. We fished under the pier around midway with pile worms on a 1/32-ounce leadhead and caught and released around 35 or so rainbow seaperch and pile perch on ultra light tackle. There are many silvers also but I only landed one of those, as they were being finicky. Not much else happening pier wise save for a few small smelt here and there. -avidangler

Date: July 25, 2002 — To: PFIC Message Board — From: avidangler — Subject: Re: Leapin, what’s “lining?”

You all know I’m from Monterey and fish the Wharf #2 regularly. I was not present on this particular day in question because I have bills to pay, so I saw no such incident of snagging with a bare hook. In notsosmart’s post, the fish was foul hooked with a bare hook. That is snagging. You must use a lure to catch a gamefish, or bait. Period. Lining is a method in which one uses a long leader and a bead or yarn to hook salmon or other fish in the mouth. Whether it is voluntary or not depends on the fish. Salmon will hit yarn, and they will also hit a bead. The majority of fish hooked on the rivers I have fished while people were using this method were involuntarily hooked, many in the mouth, some in the head, others in the back or tail. The wardens I have talked to say that if the fish swims off with your line and it is mouth hooked it is legal. Period.

Now for avidangler’s stance on “lining” and “snagging” at Wharf #2. I will NOT snag fish period! The fine is like a thousand dollars, it is hectic fishing, and frankly I will legally hook many more fish than the average snagging moron. Salmon come to Wharf #2. Why? They are planted in the harbor as fingerlings and allowed to mature to smolt size. They return to the “river” of their origin, which is the harbor. These fish turn dark in saltwater and die. They do not reproduce. We have asked the DFG to extend the season so that less of these fish will be wasted, due to the fact that the return usually peaks after ocean salmon season is closed. Our requests have fallen upon deaf ears. The DFG is fully aware of last year’s snagging problems and many anglers were issued citations as a result. This year we shall see what happens with the snaggers. So far I have seen anglers throwing spoons and lining fish so as far as notsosmart’s report of snagging I cannot confirm this. The DFG is allowing lining of these salmon. You know what I say? Why not? These fish are going to either get eaten by harborbags and sea lions (go there at night and watch the gauntlet!) or die and get picked at by seagulls and crabs. The sole purpose of these fish is to boost sport catch. I would like to see them not go to waste myself. If that means people line rub them, by all means why not. After the sea lions get them all fidgety they will not readily strike bait or artificials, although I know a few tricks (heh heh). Better that people get some sport and some dinner. If the law allows it, that’s the bottom line. The practice will continue. There will be some bad apples in every crowd. Avoid them.

Date: September 14, 2002 — To: PFIC Message Board — From: avidangler — Subject: Monterey Wharf

The salmon action has been good. My pal Frank hooked a beauty off the beach adjacent to the pier on a #6 Blue Fox spinner this morning. I just finished eating some of that fish a little while ago. Last week the same Frank got a twenty-four ponder on same said spinner, and yesterday my pal Orby nailed a 34 pound, 1 oz fish on pink yarn. No joke. He did well to land that pig!!

Date: October 26, 2006 —To: PFIC Message Board — From: pinoy —Subject: Plenty of bat rays in Monterey!

They have been catching bat rays at the wharf for a few nights now. Finally, I had a chance to try it last night. I was using an Eagle Claw “Surf Beast” 10ft rod, Okuma AV80, 80-lb spiderline (25-lb diameter), steel leaders topped with 2/0 hooks, and squid bait. I started fishing at 7pm and first 20 minutes was slow for me although everyone else seems to be catching bat rays left and right. Boredom was followed by some teasing from my pregnant wife. She said that if she’s not pregnant and have strength to fight the rays, she would have been catching after a few minutes of casting out. She said I have until this time next year to hold the family record on bat ray catch even if I catch the tiniest one in the bay. She already beat me in the MF eel department. Hehehe!

Anyway, at around 7:30 I felt a tiny tug so I set the hook. Yup! I felt a strong pull trying to peel off out to open water. After reeling a few yards back the ray came straight back and to the side, aiming to go under the wharf. Oh man, I thought I was gonna lose it. I was able to recover line fast enough to keep pressure on the ray and to coax it to follow me towards the end of the railing. With a friend’s help lifting the line hand over hand I finally landed it. It was around 30-33” wingspan. I don’t know the weight. My friend took it home for soup and I kept the tail. I caught four more (3 released) afterwards ranging from 20-35” with two of them falling into the water just a few feet from the top of the wharf when we tried to lift them up. I based the size of the two that dropped on the comparison of how they were spread between the post of the wharf while we were pulling them up. I also caught a 2′ long skate that did not fight at all.

My co-worker and PFIC member MBRat finally showed up at 9pm. We stayed with him until 11pm. He caught total of 5 bat rays, but was only able to land 1 which was about 30-34” wingspan. The others were lost while trying to lift them up onto the wharf. All in all it was a fun night. Mrs. Pinoy was happily watching and encouraging me. She already said I will be the one watching baby next year while she catches bat rays. Hahaha!

Date: October 27, 2006 — To: PFIC Message Board — From: Ken Jones — Subject: Monterey Wharf #2 — macs/jacks in force

I shot down to Monterey this morning at 4 AM to check out the mac action and the mackerel are definitely there. But what’s really there is a huge mixed school of Pacific mackerel and jack mackerel (called Spanish mackerel by many people) and they are on both the inside side of the wharf and the outside side.

The jack mackerel are small size to medium size and seem to be hanging above the Pacific mackerel. If you want the jacks use a small size hook Sabiki with a one-ounce torpedo and keep it closer to the top. The Pacific mackerel are almost all medium sized fish and, as said, seem to hang under the jacks. Use a two-ounce sinker for them and let it sink deeper in the water. For both, a slow steady retrieve seems all that is needed. Main problem is that you will get 2-5 at a time so I recommend medium tackle if you’re going to use a Sabiki for them. If you use a light outfit, and the larger mackerel hit, you’re likely to have a tangled mess. But it’s only money.

Instead of a Sabiki put a couple of size 6 hooks on your line with a one-ounce torpedo sinker and small pieces of mackerel. You’ll have a blast catching the macs. Size 6-8 hook for the jacks. You will not get as many fish as the Sabiki’s but I think it’s more fun.

Finally, the fish are really thick and it would not be hard to catch 75-100 fish an hour if you know what you’re doing. Better is to plan out what you want. I wanted a certain number of macs to save for bait and I wanted a certain number of jacks for dinner. I kept only the fish I needed and released the rest (and if they were injured they went into the keep pile). Don’t be greedy but have fun if you head down there. It wasn’t crowded this morning but I imagine it will be by this weekend if the macks/jacks hang around. PS., Saw leopard shark fins on wharf so someone was catching them the night before.

Posted by pinoy

I might have a suspect on that leopard shark. I was there Thursday night and this guy holding a leopard shark is walking up and down the wharf asking if people want to buy it. Lots of people are disgusted, and even my friend said that it is illegal for him to sell it. He just walked away. Another guy told him while he was walking away that what he did is a waste. He should have just released it instead of killing it. Again no reply and he just kept walking.

Date: October 21, 2009 — To: Ken Jones — From: ………. — Subject: Ref: Monterey Wharf #2 report

Believe it or not, there had been a couple of massive WSB run in that area about 3 weeks ago. You would never guess that. When the stripers were pushing the bait to the shores, a big school of WSB was right behind them. One guy hooked up a 40-lb WSB with a Fish Trap from the wharf out of 50 fishing boats and tons of anglers on the wharf according to ……… There are guys snagging the stripers with 3-oz torpedo weights on treble hooks. The WSB school is still in and out of the bay there, but …….. does not want to talk about it on the public forum since he’s chasing ‘em on his kayak. I personally spotted a big school of WSB between Seacliff Pier and New Brighton beach in Capitola about a week ago. Hope it helps!

Date: July 22, 2013 — To: PFIC Message Board — From Ken Jones — Subject: A short visit to Monterey and some fish

107 degrees in Fresno and 60 degrees in Monterey; enough said. Actually no, there is quite a bit more to add. Wanting to get away from the Valley heat, and intrigued by mention in a recent post that some sharpnose perch were showing up at the wharf, I decided to make a quick weekend trip over to Monterey. The trip would prove very, very enjoyable, both for the cool marine layer of weather that required a light jacket and for the variety of fish. Nothing learned but a few observations confirmed.

I arrived at the Monterey Wharf #2 shortly after 9 AM and soon after an angler came over and said, “Are you Ken Jones?” It was Madsteelhead and he was at the pier seeking out some pileperch. He gave me a quick rundown on what was happening and asked if I could identify a fish in another angler’s ice chest. It was a small sablefish, the first one I had seen in years, and it gave even more hope that it might be an interesting visit. I was soon rigged up with my normal high/low rigging, a one ounce torpedo sinker, and pile worms strung over size 6 hooks; I was ready for some perch.

The only problem was the small fish, specifically juvenile blue rockfish and lizardfish. Those fish just didn’t seem to understand that the worms were reserved for the larger perch. Over the years pile worms have become my favorite bait (along with ghost shrimp) but the trouble with worms and small hooks is that smaller fish can also grab them, i.e. the blacksmith and senorita that can make fishing hard at Catalina when you’re trying for larger species like opaleye, the shinerperch at Gaviota when you’re seeking out the larger rubberlips and buttermouth, and on and on. Worms are great bait but can be too easily sucked in by the smaller fish when you are seeking out something a little larger. When the small fish are around it’s good to have a backup bait. Unfortunately I had brought a couple of dozen worms with me as well as some anchovies and squid but had not brought the mussels that were in a bag in my freezer—dumb!

Nevertheless, I continued to fish for my sharpnose perch and about 20 minutes after starting I caught a sharpnose, the only one I would catch during the trip. It justified the trip in my mind but there were several other interesting things that I saw.

The first were the number of lizardfish. In my monthly reports I have been reporting lizardfish from more and more piers, all the way south to San Diego. A few weeks ago during a trip to Santa Barbara they were the main fish caught by the kids in the tournament on Stearns Wharf. On the way back that weekend I had stopped at Port San Luis where they absolutely seemed to cover the bottom of the bay (as in 4-6 every time if you threw out a Sabiki). Here there was a repeat performance. People mid-pier were casting Sabikis and pulling in 4-6 fish at a time and keeping them. Hope they tasted good.

The second concerned a recent post I made on the number of baby cabezon and onespot fringehead showing up at piers. I had recently caught small cabezon at Stearns Wharf, Goleta, Gaviota, Avila, and Port San Luis and once again they were numerous here. As for the onespot fringehead it was similar, I had caught them at Stearns Wharf, Goleta, Gaviota, and Port San Luis. Soon after starting I caught one and took it over to show Madsteelhead who said he had never seen one before. What gives with this year’s explosion of lizardfish, cabezon and onespot fringehead?

As for the pileperch, there was a nice run going on and the locals who knew what they were doing (like Madsteelhead) were loading up on fish that weighed 1+ pounds. It reminded me of when I used to fish the Red Rock Pier in Richmond back in the ‘70s. The pier would be thick mid-winter with pileperch in the 1-2 pound range and you could fairly easily catch a limit using grass shrimp for bait. The Red Rock Pier is now history and it seems harder to find the larger concentrations of pileperch (although some areas still see good numbers). BTW, Madsteelhead also caught a nice blackperch.

There was also the issue of the sablefish. The only sablefish I have caught from a pier was at the Newport Pier and it was a long, long time ago. One day I caught 47 and one day I caught six; all were caught during very early hours when it was still dark and all were caught on squid (as discussed in my book). The thinking is that these deep-water fish will come to the surface at night to feed (and young sablefish will sometimes enter shallower water). I wanted a chance at the sablefish so was back at the Wharf Sunday morning at 4 AM using squid for bait. The water was really low, the sablefish did not cooperate, and I did not catch a single one, but at least I tried.

I did have a very interesting discussion with a retired commercial fishermen the next morning, one who lives on his boat in the marina. He said a state record pileperch was caught from the wharf a few days ago, a fish which after being weighed on a couple of different certified scales weighed in at an even 2 pounds. I hadn’t checked the records lately but was a little surprised that the fish would be the record since I have seen much larger fish over the years. But, most anglers never bother to have their large fish checked or submitted as a record. He also said the lizardfish only showed up about a week ago and that there was a good bocaccio hatch showing in the water.

As for the cabezon and onespot fringehead, he had no idea, in fact he didn’t know what a onespot fringehead looked like until I showed him a picture. He also mentioned that three sturgeon had been taken from the wharf this year along with several halibut. We had a nice long talk concerning California fishing and changes over the years and it proved a nice diversion since the fishing was a little slow (at least as far as large fish).

What would prove most interesting was the number of different species that I was able to catch Saturday between two different piers—Wharf #2 and the Coast Guard Pier. Eighteen different species showed up at the two piers that day and when I checked my records when I got home it was the highest total of one day, multi-pier species. Wharf #2 (morning and late afternoon/early evening) saw California Lizardfish, Blue Rockfish, Speckled Sanddab, Pacific Sanddab, Cabezon, Senorita, Pileperch, Sharpnose Seaperch, Onespot Fringehead, Kelp Greenling, Bocaccio and Shinerperch. The Coast Guard Pier (afternoon) saw Gopher Rockfish, Black & Yellow Rockfish, Painted Greenling, Striped Seaperch, Striped Kelpfish, and what I think was a Corraline Sculpin. The 18 different species in one day from the piers was a record for me. Of course the two quite different environments would see different species but still it was a good number of different species.

I headed back Sunday at noon after a quick bowl of chowder at Fisherman’s Wharf. Three hours later I was back at Fresno and unloading the car in the middle of a 107-degree day. I think I need to find a job on the coast.

Posted by calaznfisher

Lovely read, thanks for the report from one of my favorite places to fish. Good to see you escaping the heat, and getting some productive fishing time in. I’ve actually been keeping an eye out for sablefish ever since I read about your mirabile dictu day at Newport. According to my records, I ran into an angler carrying 3-4 medium sized sablefish walking off of Newport pier in September of 2012. He said he caught them off of anchovies from the back right corner. No one else had caught any that I saw. Very interesting catch, too bad you didn’t see more of them.

Author’s Note No. 1. In 1988 papers nationwide carried a picture of a young angler holding a somewhat prehistoric looking fish, one whose most notable feature seemed to be a large mouth full of scary-looking teeth. It turned out the fish was a Longnose Lancetfish (Alepisaurus ferox, meaning ferocious scaleless lizard), a normally deep-water fish that has been found down to a depth of 6,000 feet. The fish was caught at Wharf #2 and is a reminder that the wharf and these waters are fairly close to the Monterey Submarine Canyon and will occasionally yield deep-water fish.

Fin-tastic catch

What a fish story lucky Christopher Burrell can tell! The 12-year-old sportsman hooked this strange-looking longnose lancet fish off Monterey’s Wharf #2 in Monterey, California. His catch weighs 35 pounds and is more than six feet long. —Weekly World News, May 17, 1988

Of interest is that lancetfish are very skinny and though recorded to 6 5/6 feet in length, the listed maximum weight is 19.84 pounds. Thus the scale used to measure the fish was wrong, it was just an estimated weight, or the weight was accurate and the boy caught himself a record fish. The boy’s catch was at least the third report of the fish along the Monterey Bay shoreline at the time of the catch. A newspaper article from November 2, 1973 (The Daily Review, Hayward, California) reported, “a lancet, the sharp-toothed deep-water fish was found in a surf here recently. Robert Lea, a State Fish and Game Department marine biologist said it was only the second time in 40 years that such a fish had been found on the Monterey Bay shoreline… Lea said the 4 1/2 foot specimen would be added to the fish collection at the California Academy of Science in San Francisco.”

Apparently longnose lancetfish are common through much of the Pacific, Indian and Atlantic oceans but typically they’re found offshore in deep-waters. They are a favored food of tuna and sharks and often captured on long-line gear used for tuna. They’re hermaphrodites containing both male and female reproductive organs, and voracious eaters that will eat just about any fish smaller than them including smaller lancetfish. Given their cannibalistic bent, they will never win a parent of the year award.

Author’s Note No. 2. Perhaps the best example of deep-water fish showing up at a California pier was a run of sablefish that took place at Wharf #2 in 1947. The numbers of both fish and anglers seems unbelievable—but the invasion was well documented!

Sablefish are uncommon to California piers but when they do show up it’s typically at piers located next to deepwater submarine canyons—those at Newport Beach, Redondo Beach, Moss Landing and Monterey. I’ve been lucky enough to catch them at the Newport Pier twice, 47 on September 10, 1962 and six more on October 27, 1962. And though I have caught many whole fishing the deep-water reefs out of Santa Cruz for rockfish, I’ve only seen one other one at a pier—July 20, 2013 at Monterey’s Wharf #2.

Sablefish Run At Monterey Bay

—Keith W. Cox, Bureau of Marine Fisheries,California Division of Fish and Game, Sept., 1947

Sablefish from the Monterey Wharf #2 in 2013

Author’s Note No. 3. I previously mentioned the pesky, bothersome, bait stealin’ senorita and I wasn’t kidding. An early June day in 2002 saw me make a visit in pursuit of perch. I hoped to find some big perch and, if I was lucky, I hoped to run across a school of the elusive sharpnosed seaperch. I’d gotten an Email message from AvidAngler that the perch were hittin’ so traveled down on my birthday to make a visit.

But I would have to deal with the senorita first. I had my rigging set, my pile worms were fresh, and I dropped the line into the water. Many times perch are on the bottom but sharpnose perch and rubberlips, the two species I was targeting, are often found mid-depth. That’s where I dropped my line, down about eight feet or so next to a piling and I immediately began to get tap after tap.

Perch will often tap the bait but usually the second or third tap will result in a hookup. What was happening here was an assault on my bait, a quick stripping of the hooks, and a need to rebait. After this happened a few times my suspicions were confirmed as to the assailants when I hooked and pulled in an 8-inch senorita. Senorita love pile worms and find them especially easy to remove from a hook. In fact, they find any soft bait easy to steal. Nevertheless, when I did manage to pull in a sharpnose seaperch a few minutes later I felt confident as to my bait and technique. But I also knew that the small pieces of pile worms would attract the senorita along with the perch. I guess it was sort of an occupational hazard if I wanted to be a perch hunter.

Eventually the worms were gone and I switched to strips of squid (which were also attacked by the senorita) but I did manage to land two of the sharpnose perch along with two-dozen or so senorita. I also checked out the bottom and it seemed as the morning progressed, the senorita went from being primarily at a mid-depth region to covering the water from the bottom to the top (perhaps they were simply adjusting their normal pattern because of the bait I was feeding them). I did manage a good-sized rainbow seaperch using the squid on the bottom, along with a small kelp rockfish, but the senorita made me work for the “better” fish. Some say senorita are tasty but all were returned to the water. Perhaps they will get a taste test some other day?

Author’s Note No. 4. The yin and yang, bad or good nature of the pier, really stands out in a sequence of visits that saw two 0 fish, skunk days, sandwich between two 100+ fish days. The first day (October) saw Pacific mackerel and jack mackerel running at the pier and saw a total of 150 fish caught in just two and a half hours. The next two trips, in July and November, produced no fish, in fact not even a bite. However, those fishless days were followed by a July visit when the sea’s floor seemed to be covered by lizardfish and assorted other species while mid-depth waters were saturated with small rockfish. The result was 154 fish in just under seven hours of fishing. I’ve averaged 12.2 fish per hour at the pier due to the large schools of small and medium-sized fish that sometimes visit the pier—Pacific mackerel, jack mackerel, Pacific sardines, juveile bocaccio, and lizardfish, yet if you visit the pier when schools are absent you can go fishless in Monterey. You just never know although if the pier is empty when you arrive, the fishing is probably slow. When fish are present, word seems to get out very quickly and the pier will be filled with anglers.

Author’s Note No. 5. To really get to know a pier, and to have the opportunity to experience a “big” day, it pays to fish the pier often. The following comes from the autobiography of avidangler ((Robert Ford), once a regular at this pier and a reporter for the PFIC Message Board. Most Memorable Pier Fishing Trips (and Why): “One year the stripers came to Wharf #2. They were so thick you couldn’t miss, for about a month. One evening I hooked nine in a row off Pencil Poppers, one of the best days I have had anywhere! Last year we made front-page news when salmon showed up in incredible numbers. I landed 20 one day (no kidding). Everybody was hooking fish. It was much like Pacifica. But I would have to say that my first steelhead rates as the most memorable. The 1/2-ounce Krocodile spoon has since been my favorite pier lure. It works.”

Author’s Note No. 6. From the CA Fish and Game Dept., AdministrativReport No. 82-9, Species Composition and Catch per Unit of Effort of Monterey Bay Surf, Pier, and Skiff Anglers in 1979: “In 1979, Monterey Bay sport anglers were sampled for species composition of the catch and catch per unit of effort. A total of 4,150 surf, pier, and skiff anglers were interviewed. Fish per hour was… .58 for piers. The species composition of the pier catch was dominated by juvenile bocaccio, Sebastes paucispinis; white croaker, Genyonemus lineatus; and the walleye surfperch, Hyperprosopon argentum… Monterey Wharf No. 2 (1.55 fish per hour) was the best public fishing pier. However, a small privately operated pier inside Moss Landing Harbor had the best catch rate (2.44 fph) of all piers sampled… Santa Cruz was the poorest fishing pier with a catch rate of 0.32 fph.”

However, the report goes on to state that a DF&G study in 1968 by Miller and Odemar had almost the opposite results: Santa Cruz was the best fishing pier (1.25 fph) and Monterey Wharf #2 was one of the poorest (.50 fph).

The contradictory results reflect the nature of Central Coast piers that can have a very high or poor catch rate dependent upon the arrival of certain schooling species—sardines, jack mackerel, Pacific mackerel, jacksmelt, walleye surfperch, shinerperch, bocaccio (nobody knows for sure if these baby rockfish will ever reappear in their once substantial numbers.), and increasingly, lizardfish The DF&G results by the way differ substantially from my personal results (1975-2014): Monterey Wharf #2 (12.2 fph), Santa Cruz Wharf (8.33 fph).

Author’s Note No. 7. Poaching is something that goes on at piers and especially at piers that see as much use at Wharf #2. A natural question that arises is when poachers should be confronted—and how. The following was sent in by one of my friends, James Liu. James was a longtime member of the United Pier and Shore Anglers Board, an excellent fisherman, a Boy Scout leader, an intellectual giant, and one of the finest men I have ever known. James was a large man with a large heart and was not hesitant to confront poachers. James was born in Taiwan and he especially objected to poachers who were Asian because, as he once explained to me, he had personally had to face discrimination so many times growing up due to the poor actions of others. He hated the perception by many that all Asians break the angling rules and he tried to teach as many people as possible the proper and legal ways to fish.

My first exposure to his “power of persuasion” occurred one night when we were fishing at the Green Pleasure Pier in Avalon and two young (Asian) men were illegally hooking and keeping lobsters. Other people tried to get them to stop with little success while James got them to stop and got them to return the lobsters to the water. How? By explaining to them how their actions made him look bad. James was a person who was always willing to walk the walk as well as talk the talk. James died in 2013 and he will be sorely missed.

Author’s Note No. 8. This wharf as well as the adjoining wharf—Fisherman’s Wharf—has appeared in many movies. Those specific to Wharf #2 include Captains Courageous shot in 1937. Scenes included two schooners tied up to Wharf #2. They Drive by Night was filmed in 1940. Several other movies were filmed in the harbor and at Fisherman’s Wharf and may contain scenes or shots of Wharf #2; they include A Woman of the Sea/The Sea Gull (1926); Tiger Shark (1932); I Cover the Waterfront (1933); Mutiny on the Bounty (1935); Captain January (1936): Edge of Darkness (1943); In Love and War (1958); and The Candidate (1972). Some sources say that See America First (1915) includes shots of sea gulls at Wharf #2 but considering the fact that Wharf #2 wasn’t built until 1926 that idea seems just a tad bit unreasonable, even if it is the movies. Maybe Fisherman’s Wharf?

Author’s Note No. 9. How many young have wanted to run away and fish their life away?

Capture Ends Boy’s Dreams of Adventure

The dream of strange cities and adventure harbored by Antonio Brown, 14, of 597 Ninety-eighth avenue, who ran away from his home several days ago, has ended with his capture in Monterey.

The boy, according to advices, has been sleeping in barns and haystacks, and has been attempting to supply himself with food by fishing at the Monterey Wharf. He was returned to Oakland today. —Oakland Tribune, August 12, 1925

Author’s Note No. 10. Variety is always one of the interesting aspects of fishing the Monterey area for me—and apparently others.

Mackerel Snared By Local Party

Hundreds of mackerel were caught at the Monterey Wharf by a group of Castro Valley friends who enjoyed a fishing and camping trip Saturday and Sunday. They were Fire Chief and Mrs. Moir, Miss Catherine Moir, Al Moir Jr., Mr. and Mrs. Max Kuhn, Miss Kuhn and Mr. and Mrs. Gilstar Christenson, Gilstar Jr., and M. Christenson.

Super on the beach and a camp fire at night were some of the enjoyable events of the trip. Mackerel were so plentiful in the surf Sunday that hundreds of people caught all they wanted to catch with a hook and line from the wharf.

Fishing off the Monterey Wharf is a pleasurable mystery. One can never tell what is at the end of his line. Sometimes it is a big salmon, sometimes a pompano, sometimes a baby shark or a tiny devil fish. —The Hayward Daily Review, September 24, 1930

Author’s Note No. 11. The following story was sent to me by Jack Holder, one of my good friends from OWAC, the Outdoor Writers Association of California, and the author of several books, most on trout fishing in the Sierras. Jack now lives in Fresno, close to his beloved Sierras, but he grew up in Monterey and his remembrances of his youth, and the times he spent down at the local wharves, are priceless.

Squidmen of Monterey, Wharf #2, Monterey 1959

Monterey Municipal Wharf #2 is a working wharf; just an extension of Figueroa Street out into Monterey Bay about 200 yards. There are no gift shops here, no restaurants, no candy stores, not even a fish market. A flat pier, wood rails in some places, a ship’s tie down here and there, a few wooden ramps to access boats on the Marina side, some street lights spaced randomly and all along each side a wooden curb of sorts – to warn drivers that if they don’t stop, they will soon be sinking in the Bay. Yes, Wharf #2 is kind of plain. There is, however, a large tin processing building that sits on the very end of the wharf, it collects fish and squid from the boats and packs them in ice. In fact the majority of the space inside the old building is taken up by the stacks of boxes, dripping melted ice, smelling like fish. A large MONTEREY PACKING is lettered across the side of the west wall.

I should correct myself; there is a small coffee counter near the entrance that has fish and chips, really good fish and chips. Its tin Coca Cola sign is just about rusted through and the legs of its chrome stools are looking more like pier pilings all covered with tiny pits. The old leather upholstered tops to the stools are cracked, some horse’s hair sticking out in places.

Watching the fishing boats pull up to the side of the wharf; the crew and the workers at Monterey Packing hollering to each other in Italian about how many pounds they have and getting the boat in the correct position, so that the huge round net can be lowered into the boat’s hull and filled with fish, is wild. Often the crews are excited, the plant workers are screaming directions and the swells are large enough to make it tough to bring the boat alongside smoothly. And then when the net emerges from the hull, full of fish, the electric motor that controls the hoist for the net straining and groaning, the fish on top jumping (some back into the Bay), and more hollering; chaos takes over. Yes, it is wild.

Late summer usually sees the squid, millions and millions of them, come close to the shore. They come so close that Wharf #2 jetties far into their vast schools and it is then the squidmen arrive. They are an outcast looking lot. Mostly Japanese or Filipino, wearing their oldest, most beat up clothing. Holes in baggy trousers, dark, dark stains on their jackets, shirts and hats and their shoes, well… their old leather shoes are held together with black electricians tape and stained beyond recognition of their original black or brown colors. Each carries an old towel.

The men share in that every one of them has hands that are leathered with small nicks and cuts on just about every finger. Fingernails are chipped, cracked and in some cases, totally gone. Some are wearing old gloves with the fingers cut out. And to a man, each is carrying a tin bucket and a long (say 15 feet) bamboo pole with about 15 feet of heavy braided line. The line has three large treble hooks tied about three feet apart and taped parallel to the line with white medical tape. At the end of the line is a lead weight or in some cases, a spark plug. About every third man has a gas lantern; some have the newer Coleman camp lanterns.

During the day this assortment of men would be thought of as laborers, farm workers or gardeners, but the squid only show up around Wharf #2 late at night, usually after midnight, so there is really no one to see them, except the other squidmen of course.

As they arrive; each seemingly has his own spot, kind of like your place on the pew at church; they lower their lanterns by rope down to about four feet above the water. Their buckets are placed about three feet to their left with their towels hanging on the rim and nearby will be a railing, piling or wood curb – someplace to sit.

They have been practicing this ritual since they were kids; their fathers did the same. And make no doubts about it, this is a ritual. “Basu, basu,” the Japanese holler as the squid approach, “Isda, isda,” the Filipinos. “Magaan, get the magaan,” the Filipinos scream to their buddies. “Koosen, koosen,” say the Japanese. “Fish, fish, get the lights,” It took a few nights, but I finally figured out what it was what they were hollering. And then the long bamboo poles, with their long line of treble hooks, are lowered into the schools of squid, so many in number that the deep blue water appears to turn white, and suddenly as the poles are yanked upwards and the squid impelled on the hooks, the squidmen lift their catches to the top of the wharf. “Inki! Inki!” yell the Japanese; ink shoots everywhere – on your jacket, your pants, your face, in your eyes (oh yeah, I forgot to mention that they are all wearing glasses, many just safety glasses I’m sure) and all over the wood planks of the wharf. The ink is dark purple, almost black, and it is oily – where it lands, it stays…forever.

The leathery hands grab the squirming squid, unhook them and toss them in the tin buckets. The poles go over the side again and in almost perfect unison I see scores of poles dropping down, yanking up and again squid being put in buckets. This goes on for several minutes and then just as quickly as it started, it stops. The waters around Wharf #2 turn deep blue again.

The squidmen are sweating. The ever-present summer soupy fog of the bay is thick upon the Wharf, the air is cool, but the men are sweating.

“Pusit, so marami,” say the Filipinos. The chatter begins. “Isda, isda!” and suddenly the school of squid are seen approaching. The poles go out, down, a smooth fast yank upwards and three more rubbery squid are taken off the hooks and deposited in the bucket.

“Why only three hooks?” I ask, “Four does not work”, my friend Milto answers. He is Filipino and his father and grandfather have taken him squiding since he was five. As with much of this discipline, the techniques are firm and unquestioned.

Words are few while the poles are moving.

It is quiet, the poles are in unison, the buckets are nearly full, and the squidmen are practicing their tradition, their ritual. It is a fraternity, perhaps not organized or even named, but it has no less bond that any.

Again the squid retreat, and again the chatter and then the squid come back once more. As the buckets fill the men sit. They stop fishing. Even though the schools of squid are still coming, the men are sitting, speaking in Japanese and Filipino, mixed with English, they sit and talk. And laugh. The air is still, the fog has coated every exposed surface with drops of salt-ladened moisture and the men have stopped talking. It seems that calmness has enveloped the wharf or perhaps it is just a phenomenon, like so often happens with a group of people, when no one speaks and a room becomes quiet – for just a few moments, but here on Wharf #2 it happens every night at the end of this time honored ritual.

And then the men load up their buckets, lanterns, poles and ink drenched towels and start walking back to their cars. Talk begins again, good byes are said, there is more laughter and then Monterey Municipal Wharf #2 is quiet once again. The bark of an old sea lion echoes across the water; I look around. The wood planks are covered with ink.

History Note. Monterey Bay was originally discovered by Cabrillo on November 16, 1542, and given the name Bahia de los Pinos. Cermeno crossed it on December 10, 1595, and called it San Pedro (in honor of Saint Peter Martyr, whose feast day is December 9). Seven years later, on December 16, 1602, Vizcaino anchored in what today is the harbor and named it Puerto de Monterey, in honor of Conde de Monterey, then viceroy of New Spain.

Over the years several different wharves and piers have graced Monterey’s coastline providing a means of transportation, as well as commercial and recreational opportunity. Today, the railroads and the wharves they used for transportation are gone. So too are the canneries with their round the clock activity and smells that made the area famous or perhaps more appropriately infamous. Commercial fishing boats still operate from Wharf #2 but the numbers seem to decrease each decade. Recreation though remains strong for the three types of local angling—recreational party boats, private boaters, and shore-bound anglers. Luckily there are still some fishing piers—but once there were even more.

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California’s first oceanfront wharf, in fact its first wharf, was built in Monterey Bay in 1845 by Thomas Larkin. At the time, Monterey was still the Mexican capital of Alta California and most citizens agreed a wharf would be a useful improvement for the town. Larkin, one of Monterey’s leading businessmen, and one of California’s first entrepreneurs, decided to build the wharf. The wharf was built under contract with the Mexican administrator of the customhouse and though Larkin eventually asked the Mexican government to repay the $8,200 cost of building the wharf, he never received the money. Larkin would later serve as the first and only United States consul to California.

In 1846, during the war with Mexico, American forces commandeered the wharf (for use by both the Army and the Navy). The next year, after acquisition of California by the United States, Larkin sought to have the American government either buy the wharf or return it to his control. If returned, he planned to bill the government for its use of his wharf. Initially both the Army and Navy seemed to ignore his claims. After receiving what he felt was a run around from Naval personnel, he contacted the Army. General Stephen Kearny, who had assumed command of both military and civil affairs, rejected his claim and suggested he contact Naval Commodore James Biddle. Larkin’s claims that prior Navy personnel had promised to purchase the wharf seemed to fall on deaf ears when Biddle suggested he should once again contact the Army since they might want the wharf.

Back went the case to the Army, which rejected his declared cost of $8,200.62, and the balance of $4,059 that he felt was due. The Army said they would have to determine the amount due; in the meantime, the wharf would remain public property. Finally, on May 7, 1847, an agreement was signed in which the Army agreed to both pay Larkin’s claim and to maintain the wharf. The money was to be paid from fees collected from all ships that used the wharf with the exception of United States warships. Years later, Jacob P. Leese bought Larkin’s interest in the wharf. The pier was destined to have a short life and indeed was in ill shape just a few years after having been built. William Redmond Ryan, in his book, Personal Adventures in Upper and Lower California in 1848-49, described the pier as already becoming unsteady only three years after it was built: “We landed at the foot of an abrupt rock, on the top of which stood the Custom-house, a long, whitewashed building, of ancient date, and about 20 feet in length: Our way to it lay along a pier of most unsafe appearance, and considerably so in reality, being constructed of a few logs thrown loosely across a series of half rotten posts sunk into the sand, and liable to be dislodged by the ebb and flow of the tide,”

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Fisherman’s Wharf, also known today as Wharf No. 1 and Old Fishermans Wharf, began its life in 1870. That was the year when the Pacific Coast Steamship Company built a 400-foot pier on the site of the original Larkin’s Wharf. The new wharf, known as the Pacific Steamship Wharf or simply as the Monterey Wharf, quickly became a center for shorefront activity. Company ships arrived four times a week bringing passengers and cargo while the wharf, now a port of call for many, became a base for a diverse group of nationalities and enterprises, especially those connected to the sea.

One group that used the wharf, at least for a period of time, was whalers who ventured out to capture a variety of whale species in the nearby waters (and eventually expanded to various areas along the coast). California’s first whaling station had been established at Monterey in 1854 by Captain J.P. Davenport (the Monterey Whaling Company). One year later a group of seventeen Portuguese whalers from the Azores led by Captain Joseph Clark (née Machado) formed what was usually called “the old company.” The Portuguese group dominated the industry although eventually there were four companies that operated in the bay. However, the numbers of whales were in decline and with the increase in the use of kerosene (instead of oil from whales) both demand and supply decreased. By the 1880s the whaling industry itself was in steep decline.

Another group, perhaps the earliest fishermen in the area, was the Chinese fishermen who were active in the bay by 1853. A fish camp was established at Point Lobos (south of today’s) Cannery Row, Pescadero (today’s Stillwater Cove), and at Point Alones (near the center of today’s Cannery Row). Activities varied, diving the shallow inshore water for abalone and kelp while fishing the bay’s deeper waters for a variety of species—primarily squid and shark but also bottom species like rockfish and lingcod. Chinese “junks” with their large lanteen sails were a common sight in local waters. The wharf would be used to send their catch (mostly dried squid, shark fins, and abalone) via coastal schooner to more distant locales, especially San Francisco.

A third group, arriving in the 1870s, were the Genovese Italians who used their small lateen-rigged sailboats (known as feluccas) primarily to troll for salmon and to fish for bottom species such as rockfish, lingcod and flatfish (halibut and flounder).

Eventually competition between the Chinese and Italian fisherman, a drastic decrease in the number of abalone, and anti-Chinese laws and actions (including burning down the Chinese fishing village), would lead to most Chinese leaving the area and a change in the fishing activity in the area. The decrease in activity at the wharf, accentuated by the loss of business to railroads, led to less income at the wharf and increased neglect. This was true even though there were signs of a bludgeoning sardine industry that would soon need a seaworthy wharf.

In 1895 Frank E. Booth had opened the first cannery in Monterey (the Monterey Packing Company). The first fish to be canned were salmon but by 1900 he began to also can sardines. After disputes with his workers, and his plant being burned down, he brought in Knut Hovden, a Norwegian and graduate of Norway’s National Fisheries College, to upgrade his procedures. Hovden made several changes to the canning procedure but also in 1905 brought in Pietro Ferrante a Sicilian Italian from Black Diamond (today’s Pittsburg, California). Ferrante brought two new ideas and technology that would revolutionize the sardine business—new boats and new nets.

Monterey Wharves — 1907

By 1906 the Genovese Italians began to be replaced by Sicilian Italians who used gasoline-powered boats that became known as Monterey Clippers (or simply putt-putts). The new boats were more powerful, more reliable (less dependent on capricious winds), and able to fish more days of the year. The Sicilians also brought in “lampara nets” that were much more efficient in capturing the sardines. Previously gill nets had been used which required removing each fish from the net by hand. The “lightning” lampara nets could encircle the sardines and then easily release them onto a boat. The combination of better boats and better nets paved the way for the sardine industry. The future for the fishing industry began to look bright and in 1913 the city assumed ownership of the wharf, established the office of wharfinger, and gave the wharf a new name—Fisherman’s Wharf. The wharf soon became headquarters for the fishing fleet with several hundred fishermen bringing in a plethora of fish species from the deep, rich, Monterey Bay waters—salmon, rockfish, albacore, and, increasingly, sardines. Non-fish species like squid, crab and abalone added to the mix (with much of the abalone being brought in now by Japanese instead of Chinese fishermen). The wharf itself was home to fish warehouses, retail and wholesale fish markets, a fuel station, restaurants, and an abalone shell grinding business. One more technological change was coming: by the 1920s the Sicilian Italians and their lampara boats (which had replaced the felaccas) began themselves to be replaced by larger and more efficient purse seiners. Sardines, fish so numerous that they were called the “Silver Tide,” increasingly began to dominate the local fisheries with new and larger canneries being built along shore (Steinbeck’s Cannery Row).

The name “Fisherman’s Wharf” became associated with the pier around 1913 after Monterey’s first sardine cannery was built just west of the pier. The earliest concessions on the wharf also began about this time.

“Pop” Ernest’s opened in 1919 just to the right of the wharf entrance and was for many years the pier’s only restaurant. Specializing in abalone steaks and chowder served in an abalone shell, the place was presided over by the always immaculately uniformed “Pop” Ernest Doelter in his trademarks, a crisp white apron and red Turkish fez. The German native over the years was said to have entertained aviator Charles Lindbergh, writer Jack London and movie actress Claudette Colbert. Another restaurant, The Pilot, was added across the way on the left, and for years these were the wharf’s only two dining establishments. —The wharf in winter, The Weekend Pinnacle, Gavilan College, March 20, 2006

Of course the wharf suffered occasional accidents, it seems part of the life of every wharf. The worst was one that took place on March 3, 1923 when, during inclement weather the S.S. San Antonio was attempting to dock in preparation to accepting the largest load of sardines ever to be shipped from Monterey—20,000 cases (that were sitting on the wharf). The ship slammed into the wharf causing 132 feet of the pier to collapse and spilling 10,000 cases of sardines into the sea. Soon after, the city reconstructed the damaged wharf adding an additional 750 feet and attaching a finger pier that extended eastward from the wharf.

City fathers then began to discuss the need for a new wharf both to relieve the congestion on Fisherman’s Wharf and to answer the needs of the expanding commercial fishing fleet. Bonds were voted and Wharf No. 2 (often simply called the New Wharf or the Municipal Wharf) was completed in 1926, just a hop-and-a-skip north of the original wharf. Soon the new wharf would contain fish warehouses and also be adopted by local recreational anglers as a place where they could wet their lines.

By the late ’30s, when sand around Fisherman’s Wharf created shallow unsafe conditions for the fishing boats, most commercial fishing activity moved over to Wharf No. 2. Once again Fisherman’s Wharf was threatened with closure. However, preservationists won out and the wharf was saved. Then, with the start of World War II, and the influx of soldiers into nearby Fort Ord, the nature of the wharf changed. The wharf became a destination for those with weekend passes and tourist-related businesses, especially restaurants, became the main attractions on the wharf. With the collapse of the sardine fishery in the late ‘40s, the conversion to tourism proved to be a fortuitous event. By the mid-‘50s, gift shops, candy shops, an aquarium, and even a theater had been added to the life on the wharf and conversion seemed complete. Today, tourism has become one of Monterey’s leading industries and Fisherman’s Wharf continues to be one of the “don’t miss” attractions for visitors to the area. There are thirty-five businesses on the wharf, including ten restaurants and two Sportfishing landings, and the wharf is almost always busy.

The wharf’s recreational fishing landings date back more than a half century. Chris’ Fishing Trips was established in the ‘40 by Captain Chris Arcoleo and offers the boats Caroline, Tornado, Check Mate, Star of Monterey and New Holiday. Randy’s Fishing Trips dates back to 1949 when family member Salvatore (Randy) Randazzo began the operation. Randy’s offers the Chubasco, and Sur Randy. Once limited to fishing trips, both landings now offer whale watching expeditions (mostly in the wintertime) and even occasionally pinniped and sea otter viewing expeditions. Given today’s changing attitudes and prices, it simply shows that you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do to stay in business.

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Wharf No. 2 doesn’t get the attention of its older sister to the south but continues to be the home to commercial fishing boats as well as recreational anglers. The wharf itself remains much as it was back when first built with the exception of the marina and sea wall that extend from Wharf #2 towards Fisherman’s Wharf. Both were constructed in the late 50s after the citizens voiced demand for a small craft harbor. When opened in 1960 the marina was able to provide 367 well protected berths. The construction did cut off the angling from that section of Wharf #2 but it seemed a fair tradeoff for recreational fishermen. In addition, money from the Wildlife Conservation Board helped fund an extension to the wharf in the early ‘60s that guaranteed additional access to anglers. A $5 million reconstruction of the marina took place in 1996 that added new concrete docks and a handicapped accessible ramp.

Fishing on Wharf #2 in 1935

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Several other wharves and piers have graced the local beaches of Monterey Bay.

Monterey’s third wharf (chronologically) was the 1,300-foot-long “Depot Wharf” (some sources say 1,600-foot) that was built in 1874 and located not too far from today’s Wharf No. 2. It set in front of Monterey’s train depot. (Head over to the Harbormaster’s office and you’ll see a granite boulder with a marker on its face, The marker notes the site of the end point for the railroad and the site where the wharf once set.

Monterey and Salinas Valley Railroad Plaque

Monterey Harbor, CA

N 36° 36.130 W 121° 53.480

10S E 599158 N 4051312

Quick Description:

Former railroad ended at a shipping pier in Monterey Harbor

The wharf was the final destination point for California’s first narrow-gauge railroad—the Monterey & Salinas Valley Railroad. Built in part to circumvent the monopolistic high prices being charged to local farmers by the Southern Pacific Railroad, the short, 19-mile-long railroad would haul produce from the farms to the ocean wharf and waiting ships.

The Articles of incorporation were drawn up on February 26, 1874 by members of the Patrons of Husbandry, also known as the Grangers, with local entrepreneurs (and members) Carlisle Abbott and David Jacks providing most of the money. Groundbreaking was held on April 20, 1874 and by October 23 of that same year the first train rolled down the tracks. The Southern Pacific immediately lowered their rates and threatened a new line from Castroville to Monterey, but with little affect.

By the end of 1874 over 6,000 tons of grain had been transported to Monterey, the combined rail and steamship rates were averaging two dollars a ton less than those charged by the Southern Pacific, and things looked rosy for the railroad and Monterey.

Then the problems began. On January 19, 1875 a terrific storm with extremely high winds hit the Monterey Peninsula and damaged the trestle to the bridge over the Salinas River. Within a weekpart of the bridge had washed away and operations on the railroad ceased. It would take two months to fix the bridge. Business resumed but then in January of 1876 the bridge washed out again, this time taking six months to replace. As bad, the years 1776-1877 were drought years that saw much of the crop in the valley fail. A fire in the engine house on September 1, 1877 was the next culprit; it damaged both of the RR’s two engines.

Perhaps the final straw (poor choice of words) was the weather in 1878 that was not too dry but too wet. Although crops were abundant, late June rains destroyed much of the grain leading to a drop in shipping from local farms. In addition, the Southern Pacific once again dropped their rates. The combination of high repair costs, reduction in shipping, and the competition and its rates, finally led to bankrupt in 1879.

On September 4, 1879 local papers announced the purchase of the railroad at a foreclosure sale. The new owner was Charles Crocker and his Southern Pacific. Shortly thereafter his men began to rip up the tracks and turn the narrow-gauge railroad into a standard-gauge line.

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The conversion of the old narrow-gauge Monterey & Salinas Valley Railroad into the new standard gauge railroad would soon become one part of a scheme involving a grand resort—and would lead to another wharf (pier) being built along the shoreline of Monterey Bay.

In 1880 the Southern Pacific began to run the Del Monte Express, a passenger train from San Francisco to Monterey. The destination for many of the passengers was the grand Del Monte Hotel that opened in June of that year (on 7,000 acres that Charles Crocker had bought from David Jacks). The hotel was considered the world’s most elegant seaside resort in the world when it opened and among the hotel’s amenities was a pleasure pier. The pier fronted the seaside “bathing pavilion,” a huge structure that set about half a mile from the hotel. The four steam-heated tanks in the bathhouse held a total of 450,000 gallons of saltwater that was changed daily. The train would stop and drop off passengers at the opulent Del Monte Hotel and then continue a short way down the tracks to the railroad depot that still fronted the wharf originally built by the older railroad.

Hotel Del Monte

An unspeakable gem, in an umbrageous and floral setting, that baffles the descriptive powers of poesy or prose.

Would you see what is possible of achievement when art and nature cooperate? Then visit Hotel del Monte.

The hotel and all the improvements are in such artistic harmony with each other and with the matchless work of nature in which they are placed, that any approach to discord is unknown. Kings and statesmen are of record in its exaltation, and poetic measures have been offered in tribute to it. Nothing has ever been said of it that leaves not the major part unsaid. The most compressed laudation is that of one who wrote: “If the traveler has only time to see one place in California, let that be Hotel del Monte, for it is the best of its kind.” —Wayside Notes On The Sunset Route, Southern Pacific Company, 1902

The Del Monte Hotel bathhouse affords excellent bathing in warm salt water; there are here a long, sandy beach and a pleasure pier. — Wells Drury and Aubrey Drury, California Tourist Guide and Handbook, 1913

Although the hotel had to be rebuilt twice following fires (1887, 1924), it continued to expand its attractions and eventually included a journey out to Carmel via the 17-mile drive and a visit to the newly opened golf course. The railroad itself was eventually expanded down past Cannery Row and to Lovers Point in Pacific Grove. The Del Monte Express would operate until 1960 while the Del Monte Hotel itself saw a new life as the Naval Postgraduate School. The path of the former Del Monte Express today has become the Monterey Bay Coastal Trail. Although the railroad had discontinued freight shipments to the wharf in the 1920s, the wharf, or at least portions of it, would be used for fishing until 1940.

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A pier that once set just a short distance south of today’s Fisherman’s Wharf area was the Coalinga Oil and Transportation Pier. Its story and that of its replacement is told in the history of the Coast Guard Pier.

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Another very small pier was built just a few miles away on the beach adjoining Lover’s Point in Pacific Grove. Pictures from the late 1890s show a small wooden pier extending a short distance out into the water. From the end of the pier customers would board glass-bottom “swan boats” to view the underwater world.

Those years saw an amazingly wide range of activities at Lover’s Point Beach. Attractions included a Japanese Tea Garden, band concerts, a photo gallery, a bowling alley, community bathhouses, a carousel, glass-bottom boat rides, an ice cream parlor, and a skating rink. Nearby, on the point itself, sat the Hopkin’s Seaside Laboratory, a marine research facility.

Eventually the laboratory outgrew its surroundings and relocated to the site of the old Chinese fishing village near the border of Monterey and Pacific Grove. Today it is the world famous Hopkins Marine Station of Stanford University. A small concrete pier (of sorts) still sits in the small cove below Lover’s Point but the old wooden pier and its “swan boats” are long gone (although the boats operated until the mid 1970s).

Lover’s Point itself was first known as Point Aulon (Spanish for abalone). Later it acquired a more religious name, Lovers of Jesus Point (Pacific Grove was initially a Methodist seaside retreat—“God’s Kingdom by the Sea.”)

In a pine forest by Monterey Bay is Pacific Grove, 2.3 m. (47 alt., 5,558 pop.) a family recreation and recreational community… The salt-water Municipal Plunge (adm. children 15¢, adults 30¢; suit rental 15¢) is near the bathing beach, fishing pier, and bathhouse. Glass-bottom boats (10-4 daily; fare 25¢) afford a view of underwater plant and animal life in the Marine Gardens offshore.

—California, A Guide To the Golden State, Federal Writers Project,Works Progress Administration, 1939

Monterey Wharf No. 2 Facts

Hours: Open 24 hours a day.

Facilities: Few! There is limited parking on the wharf—$1.50 an hour or $10.00 all day; additional parking is found at lots near the front of the wharf. Parking is required from 9AM to 9PM and you can pay by cash or credit card at the Pay Station ticket dispensers. There are a few lights but no benches. There are restrooms on the wharf (out at the end). The Monterey Fish Co is on the end of Wharf #2 and you can buy fresh fish (and sometimes abalone!). Two restaurants are located on the wharf. LouLou’s is located mid-pier and offers up breakfast, lunch and dinner. It’s open 7:30AM-8:30PM but closed Tuesdays. A wide variety of good food is offered. The more upscale Sandbar & The Grill is found midway out (and under) the wharf and is open for lunch and dinner. It features good chowder, sanddabs, and crab when available.

Handicapped Facilities: Handicapped parking (one space) but non-handicapped restrooms. The pier surface is wood planking with a rail height of 43 inches; an 8-inch curb runs along the entire length of the pier but has cutouts making access available. Not posted for handicapped.

Location: 36.60416°N 121.8928°W.

How To Get There: From Highway 1 take the central Monterey exit and follow Del Monte Avenue to Figueroa Street, turn left and follow to the wharf.

Management: City of Monterey.