What's that? You miss The Monkey Face News? Wonder what ever happened to the crazy fish nerd responsible for it? Well… here's what I've been up to. And here's how you order it: The Sea Forager's Guide. The book will also be available at select local bookstores after 09/01/16. Huzzah!
Be sure to check out my Coastal Update page for more piscatorial ramblings: Coastal Update
--Kirk-out
Most of you are probably unaware of this, (as I was until this week) but the world ended on Feb 26th, 1860. Only to rise again on March 28th, 2014 on a small island in Humboldt Bay. Wow. After 154 years it's sure good to be back.
Background
On the evening of February 26th, 1860 a small group of white settlers armed with bowie knives, axes, and pistols descended on an encampment of peaceful Wiyot Indians, who had gathered on Tuluwat Island for their annual world renewal ceremony. (Tuluwat was considered the center of the Wiyot universe). The young men of the tribe were off gathering supplies for what was sure to be the usual life-affirming event.
Without getting too gruesome about it, the settlers came ashore in the dead of night and went about slaughtering everyone in the camp: women, children and older folks. (The Neil Young lyric comes to mind, but in fact, they didn't even leave "some babies lying on the ground.") This attack coincided with several other massacres of Wiyot people along the Eel River. All of these loosely attributed to a vigilante group called: The Humboldt Volunteers, Second Brigade, evidently as a reprisal for cattle rustling (even though the cattle allegedly rustled were not actually taken from anywhere near Wiyot territory).
In any case. As most of the people killed in these massacres were old folks and women (read: the keepers of the stories and traditions), a lot of Wiyot culture and history was lost that night.
I am right now caught between trying to picture all this and trying not to. I mean beyond the nightmare of the carnage, imagine for a moment if you will, the heartbreak that the men of this tribe experienced upon returning to the camp from their hunt--or better yet, don't imagine it, it's just too horrible.
{I am told by the same friend who first informed me of this story, that one of the great sub plots here is the way the women of neighboring tribes later came together to help the Wiyots re-imagine their lost traditions.}
It's getting hard to write about this stuff. Gotta go kiss my son.
Okay, where was I? The surviving Wiyots, for their "protection," were taken to an Army Fort whose Indian name translates as: "The Place Where You Lie On The Ground With Your Knees Drawn Up." Which, I don't know, kind of brings this type of "protection" to mind:
{I was going to post one of those horrible pictures from Abu-Ghraib here, but they're all too awful. And afterall, this is a fishing blog--sort of. Anyway, I'm sure you all, get my analogy}.
Here's what tribal leader Cheryl Seidner says about the federal government's Indian "protection" plan:
"After the massacre, the U.S. government] decided they were going to take care of us and watch over us so nothing happened to us. That’s why they took us to the stockades up at Fort Humboldt in the dead of winter. And that’s why our children died of exposure, our old people died of pneumonia, our women were raped and murdered. That’s how well the U.S. government took care of us."
"The Place Where You Lie On The Ground With Your Knees Drawn Up."
Next, the Wiyot language and tribal ceremonies were outlawed. Tuluwat island was taken over by a man named Robert Gunther, who rather suspisciously bought the Island 3 days before the massacre and shortly afterwards turned it into a profitable dairy farm. In the 1870s the center of the world became a shipyard that went about polluting the ground with battery acid and toxic sludge--till it was condemned. But not before teams of enthusiastic amateur archeologists had pilfered the shellmounds and taken away the bones and artifacts of the Wiyot people from their sacred burial site. And finally, just in case this all wasn't enough, as a final twist of the knife, in the late '50s the Wiyots were stripped of their status as an "official" tribe and labeled "extinct." Case closed. Score one for the multi-headed gorgon called "progress."
Jack Palance as Attila the Hun (three cheers for the casting director!)
I mean, honestly. You take the worst conqueror in history... say, Attila the Hun, and his treatment of a defeated people wasn't even close to this. In fact, as I understand it, peaceful people who did not resist the Huns were by and large taxed and otherwise left alone. Not so in the land of the free. I remember an interiew with Russell Means years ago, where he was asked to justify armed resistance (like the violent take over of Wounded Knee in the early 70s). And he listed a bunch of peaceful Indian tribes and then asked the interviewer if he'd ever heard of any of them. The interviewer said, "no." To which Means responded: That's because they were non-violent, they were all wiped out. His point of course, was that the "warlike" tribes survived. And that peaceful resistance for Native Americans had by and large failed miserably. I'm not sure if he was right or wrong in justifying violence, but there's no denying he raised a valid point.
{Monkeyface News Editorial Insertion #2,854: to keep up with what's new in Native California, check out this magazine from Hey Day: Native California News.}
The Ba'mbuti Pygmies And The 27th Definition of Death
Like the Eskimos with snow, The Ba'mbuti Pygmies of the Itiri forest in Africa, recognize something like 27 words for death: dead, absolutely-dead, absolutely-completely-dead, absolutely-completely-and-utterly-dead, etc. The 27th definition is the final one. So from a Ba'mbuti perspective, the Wiyot were somewhere between 26 and 27 on the cultural death scale.
But the memories and the spirit of this small tribe did not completely die. Much was lost, but somehow a spark stayed lit, and the spark grew to an ember. And the ember caught fire. And in the 1990s the federal government recognized them as a tribe again (yes the irony of this is deep). And shortly thereafter portions of the lease for Tuluwat Island came up for sale. And the Wiyots raised the money to buy 1.5 acres of it. And from that acre and a half they started cleaning. And through a lot of fund raising and hard work they removed the wall of decayed batteries and they excavated the filth from under the island.
The center of the world
And then of course we come to the reason I'm writing this... In as much as the Monkeyface News is a type of News Letter, I'd like to make it official--even if I'm two weeks late. The world, which for a small segment of the population came to brutal end on Feb 26th 1860, was brought back to life on March 28th 2014, when a group of Wiyot people and their friends--members of neighboring tribes who collaborated to re-imagine the lost dances of the Wiyots, gathered on Tuluwat Island and danced, and sang, and renewed the world--for the very first time since the night of the massacre so many years ago.
I myself have been a devout aethiest since catholic school drilled all notions of the sanity of religion out of my head in the 1980s. But this kind of spiritual healing is something I can believe in. And whether the descendants of the Wiyot tribe dancing on a small island in Humboldt Bay in 2014 saves the world or restores a sense of lost balance, or atones for the horrors of the past, doesn't really matter to me. For whatever illogical reason, it makes me feel good to know they're dancing, to know the world, or at least a tiny corner of it, has finally been restored.
Kirk-out
4/13/14
Thanks to Lindsie for telling me this story. Again, here's a great way to keep track of what's new in Native California: Native Californa News
PS: the Douglas Sirk "sword and sandal" classic saga of Attila the Hun, "Sign of The Pagan." Is well worth watching... if you can find it.
Haiku #2,187
Late November rains
Bring us herring memories
Let the games begin!
The rains have come and with them the muse returns... slowly, but surely.
Hi guys. Remember me? It's been a while. Like half a year or something since I put together a post worthy of this blog.
Okay... let's see.. I want to point out that I've noted in my tidelog that there've been late November mini spawns in the South Bay 3 of the last 4 years. And with this rain, who knows?
Here's several notable things...
A few months ago I wrote a couple of paragraphs on the former existence of Atlantic softshell clams inside SF Bay. (For some solid info on this go here: Mya arenaria Well, evidently my friend Oron, a recent migrant to the East Bay (SF suffers by his loss), decided to follow my tip and headed to Point Pinole on the last minus tide to see if he could find any living softshells. What he was planning to do with them I know not. I wouldn't think Point Pinole soft shells would represent the highwater mark of healthy seafood consumption. In any case he's a doctor so he can heal himself when he gets fecal coliform (I guess) or something worse. The shoreline near the Pinole Pier is literally covered, a foot deep in softshell shells. But the thing I've always wondered is, how old are these? Point Pinole was once the center of the biggest clam operation in the state. Are they still living in that compromised ecosystem?
Anyhoo... Oron went out on that big negative tide and raked the shoreline for a while. And guess what? He didn't find any clams. What he found was this:
What's the size limit on a 9mm? Are they in season?
So if you're dumping your sidearm after using it in illicit ways, (robbing convenience stores, banks or blowing away your enemies) make sure you heave it out a little bit beyond the minus tide line... with the recent news about the return of Olympia oysters and crazy Sea Foragers like Oron out there, there's a good chance our urban intertidal zone is about to be reclaimed by the citizenry.
What else... it's kind of crazy how much press my salmon shark video got. Wow. If this is the press a cousin of the great white generates, imagine if I had gotten footage of the real thing? The funny thing here is that I saw this shark while driving on Great Highway and then turned around and went back to Noriega, jumped out of the car but found that I was like a half mile away, so I ran down the beach (as you can hear from my breathing), only to find two people evidently thinking of taking my prize specimen home for lunch. Mercury burgers anyone? As it turns out I was mistaken, they were trying to save the dying creature. I know of at least one marine biologist who claims salmon sharks are quite delicious, though I haven't tried one myself.
As it turns out, salmon sharks commonly strand themselves. This is due to a nasty (and fatal) form of bacterial meningitis stemming from brain infection. No one really knows how they get this infection but it seems to coincide with seasonal changes/upwelling and is evidently restricted to juvenile fish. If any of you guys find one in the future please contact me so I can call the researchers who've been tracking this phenomenon for 10 years.
Anyhoo. Hopefully this is the beginning of a new trend: Me blogging again.
Uh oh. Baby crying. Gotta scram.
Kirk-out
Unreal as it may seem. After a ten year hiatus, eulachon (aka: candlefish, hooligan, oolichon) have suddenly started showing up in some Coastal rivers to the north of California. Check out any of these articles:
For those who don't remember my previous obsession with this species here's a post culled from the archives of The Monkeyface News:
Candlefish (2009)
Deep in his underground cavern beneath the wooded glades of
San Francisco, fresh from his latest puppet triumph, Lombard of
the Intertidal sits and obsesses about the decline of the osmerid clan.
As I have stated earlier (see: First Post, way back in Oct. 2009), the
osmerids, or true smelts, are a family of smallish, silver-golden fishes
distantly related to the salmonids and native to the northern California
coast. The most popularly pursued species of osmerids are the surf
smelt—captured by the use of throw nets on coarse sandy beaches,
and the night smelt, which is typically captured by use of the A-frame
dip net—a technology which dates to Indian times. I have written at
great length on this subject in the print version of the MFN so I will not
get too deep into it here.
There is however another species of osmerid that I find myself obsessing
over lately: the eulachon (AKA: “hooligan,” “ooligan,” or “candlefish”).
Like many other osmerids (delta, longfin, rainbow) this species has declined in recent years.
Though “decline” may not be strong enough. They have literally
disappeared from dozens of former spawning grounds. Even
the seemingly infinite “hooligan” populations of Alaska have started
to show a trend towards decrease.
Although there's a lot of stuff about Washington, Oregon and Alaska on the internet, there isn't a whole lot about California's eulachon stocks. The only catch statistics I have uncovered for California are from the Klamath where, after 1988, the eulachon essentially disappeared. Surveys conducted in February of 2001 could not produce a single fish—and this during the height of their normal spawning run. Last year (2009) the MFN contacted Dave H., a fisheries biologist from Northern California who works with the Yurok Fisheries Council, I asked Dave if the eulachon had gone extinct in the Klamath (and by default in California). Here is his reply:
Kirk,
Anecdotally, Yurok Tribal members still see a few Eulachon at the mouth of the river. Our crews caught 9 of them at the mouth of Pecwan Creek (approximately 25 – 30 miles upstream from the ocean) on January 10, 2007. Other than that we don’t have much information. I wouldn’t say they are extinct from the Klamath, but perhaps near extinction, especially relative to their abundance as recently as the late 1970’s. NMFS has a Biological Review Team working on a petition they’ve received for listing under the Federal ESA {Endagered Species Act} – likely to be a good compilation of existing information. Wish I had more to share.
Sadly, it looks pretty much like there is universal decline going on for this species. Here’s what it says on the National Marine Fisheries Service website:
From 1938 to 1992, the median commercial catch of eulachon in the Columbia River was approximately 2 million pounds (900,000 kg) but from 1993 to 2006, the median catch had declined to approximately 43,000 pounds (19,500 kg), representing a nearly 98 percent reduction in catch from the prior period. Eulachon returns in the Fraser River and other British Columbia rivers similarly suffered severe declines in the mid-1990s and, despite increased returns during 2001 to 2003, presently remain at very low levels. The populations in the Klamath River, Mad River, Redwood Creek, and Sacramento River are likely “extirpated” or nearly so.
Evidently someone (other than me) is paying attention to all this because in March, a petition was submitted to the Feds to list the eulachon as an endangered species. Looks like the Cowlitz Indians have, spearheaded these efforts. Hoorah for them!
http://www.nwr.noaa.gov/Newsroom/Current/upload/03-12-2009.pdf
From Merriwhether Lewis' Log Books
Again, I find myself drawn to the eulachon not only because I have a thing for the true smelts, (hubba hubba!) but because they are so unique. First off there’s the whole candlefish thing. Because they are so high in fats (up to 15 percent of their body weight) all you have to do is leave a eulachon in the sun for a few days, insert a wick, and set it on fire--it'll burn like a candle for several hours. Secondly, they are a highly sensitive indicator species, as they are extremely vulnerable to changes in water temp, salinity, shifting stream bed transport, and pollution. Studies on the Columbia river have shown that eulachon will pick up toxic residues from pulp mills even though they do not eat while spawning and are only in the river for a few weeks. In addition to (and in spite of) these factors the culinary possibilities of eulachon are vast. Here’s what Merriwhether Lewis, (of Lewis and Clark fame), had to say on the subject:
“This evening we were visited by Comowool the Clatsop Chief and 12 men women and children of his nation . . . The Chief and his party had brought for sale a Sea Otter skin, some hats, stergeon and a species of small fish which now begin to run, and are taken in great quantities in the Columbia R. about 40 miles above us by means of skimming or scooping nets . . . {my italics} I find them best when cooked in Indian stile, which is by roasting a number of them together on a wooden spit without any previous preparation whatever. They are so fat they require no additional sauce, and I think them superior to any fish I ever tasted, even more delicate and lussious than the white fish of the lakes which have heretofore formed my standard of excellence among the fishes.”
--From the Journals of Captain Meriwether Lewis and William Clark (February 25, 1806)
Holy Shiite!
I'm doing a TED Talk in Monterey... okay it's a TEDx talk.
And it's tomorrow so I'm not giving you guys much notice. Nevertheless... for those who can't make it... here's the link to live streaming:
http://www.tedxmonterey.org/livestream/
Sure would be nice to see a few familiar faces, so if you're down that way, stop in and say hi! Fishwife and I will be singing Shoals of Herring again, to anyone who missed it the first time!
Kirk-out
R.I.P.
Ladies and gentlemen. Smelt Hammer (AKA Mjolnir, Flame Of The North, Smelt Assassin) is gone! Swept out to sea last night by a rogue wave. (A wave that almost took me with it). No doubt this, the greatest of all my home made fishing implements, (my pride and joy, really) will wash up somewhere on the coast, near Pacifica. I am publishing these pix in hopes that maybe, someday, if one of my loyal MFN readers sees someone using this handsome and distinctive net they give me a call. There is of course the possibility that it is bound for Japan. In which case i hope some Japanese wakasagi fisherman puts it to good use!
Lombard's famous "pseudo-Ohlone" pictograms.
And of course the salient feature: custom steel crossbar brackets.
So if you find this wonderful fish killing machine, or see someone using it. A reward will be given!
Kirk-out
Hello everyone and welcome to your seaforager coastal update for April 2013.
{Apologies to the MFN regulars I'm posting this here while I revamp the Seaforager site}
First things first. I'm a daddy! On 3/1/13 the fishwife gave birth to a beautiful 9 pound baby boy:
Django Ray Lombard.
The eels quake with fear.
In addition to this wonderful news, I should point out that I have Mega Low Tide tours in HMB on the following dates:
Tomorrow (Tuesday) April 2nd 8:00am (discount price if you e-mail me: [email protected])
Tuesday April 30th, 7:30am
Tuesday May 28th, 7:30am
Go to: Mega Tour HMB
The Return Of The King
Well, it's true I tend to make a big deal about small fish. I'm not gonna lie. Soap box item numero uno. But when all is said and done, when my usual diatribe
about herring, mackerel, sardine, anchovy and smelt finally (mercifully) comes to an end, I have to admit, there is one king to rule them all. With all due respect to the osmerid clan, and the great clupeid family, the king salmon is the greatest of all our local species. There, I said it. Now, what do I mean by greatest? Hmmm. Well obviously, there's the journey. The most epic journey (with the possible exception of certain trans-global bird species and whales) in all of nature. You think about what a salmon has to undergo in order to get back to the river of it's birth (in our case, the Sacramento) and it just boggles the mind. Then there's the historical aspect. Salmon have been supporting human communities in this area for thousands of years. Then there are the culinary aspects of salmon--which are really too many for me to detail here. And then there's the anomalous fact that, although it occupies a very high position on the food chain, a salmon has about the same rate of toxin accumulation as, say, a herring. High in good things like those omega 3s everyone always raves about and low in all the bad stuff. Oh yeah, did I mention how sublimely beautiful they are? How magical? How hard they fight and how challenging they are to catch? Well, that too. It's as if Poseidon created the perfect fish handed it over to the human race and said, Okay people, the rest is up to you.
And then four years ago the stocks plumetted, the fall run of the Chinook (the largest run on the Sac) hit it's all time low, doom sayers (of which I, regrettably, was one), predicted the end of the whole shebang. In addition the jack returns were horrifyingly low. I don't remember the numbers but it was something like 3,000 total fish. Most salmon return to spawn (and die) at the ripe old age of three. But jacks are two year old salmon that make the return journey a year early. Fisheries biologists can estimate ocean abundance of the whole stock based on the number of jacks that return every fall. Here is what the fisheries biologists are now saying about this upcoming season... hold onto your seat, we're looking at some epic numbers.
From DFG:
"In the fall of 2012, nearly 35,500 “jack” Chinook salmon returned to spawn in the Sacramento River and 21,500 returned to the Klamath-Trinity basins. While most Chinook salmon return to spawn after three years in the ocean, jacks are fish that return after just two years, making them a reliable predictor of the number of adult salmon remaining in the ocean. Fishery biologists estimate roughly 1.5 million Chinook salmon will be in California coastal waters through the summer."
So here's the deal... DON'T MISS OUT ON THIS YEAR'S SALMON SEASON. Seriously. Starting April 6th there will be boats going out every day from Santa Cruz to Bodega. To those of you new to party boat fishing, there are boats in Emeryville, Berkeley, San Francisco, Sausalito and Half Moon Bay. Of these, (IMHO) the best salmon boats are the Sausalito Boats: New Rayann and The Outer Limits. As far as Berkeley and Emeryville, I don't have any suggestions, though I am partial to the Goldeneye 2000. In Halfmoon Bay I'm a fan of Dennis Baxter's Boat, The New Captain Pete, and also the Hulicat and The New Gravy. In San Francisco, for me it's all about the Wacky Jacky. Captain Jacky Douglas is as close to an icon as we've got in the local fishing community.
Wacky Jacky
If you don't have access to a boat, the 100 bucks is well worth it. And if you luck out and catch two ten-plus pound salmon (and the reports right now indicate there are a lot of bigger fish out there), then the 100 bucks was a bargain. Anyway, that's my pitch for the salmon fleet. Hopefully, a few of you newer Bay Area anglers will take my advice and go get a few local salmon. Just remember, your tax dollars have been paying for those fish (without hatcheries we wouldn't even have a salmon fishery). Isn't it time you got a return on your investment?
Striped Bass
It may seem sacreligious to mention this imposter, this pretender to the throne of greatness, so near to my paragraph about "the king." But I love stripers. There, I said it. Do they pale in comparison to
chinook salmon? Yep. On many levels. For instance, the striped bass is that classic example of a fish that isn't particularly healthy for us to be eating--as they are virtually glowing with methyl mercury and other not so wonderful things. And then of course there's the fact that since their introduction to the Pacific Ocean in 1878 they really have made it rough on the local salmonids. Some ardent striper fans would argue this, as I once did, by pointing out that water managers are scape goating striped bass in order to deflect responsibility for destroying salmon stocks with terrible water policy decisions. They will also point out that we had a thriving salmon fishery and a thriving striped bass fishery side by side for a hundred years in CA. Thing is there are studies (y'know graphs and equations and models and whatnot) showing the miserable effect stripers will have on salmon populations. Of course it didn't help matters when the government department charged with maintaining our fisheries decided to embark on a very expensive striped bass feeding program a few years ago :( dumping salmon smolts in the same location day after day till the striped bass started responding with a sort of Pavlovian foresight. Showing up like a pack of hungry dogs at the dinner bell.
But even taking all this into account, there's something to say for driving to Ocean Beach, casting a hair raiser into the surf and hooking into a 22 pound striped bass. (Would that it were that easy! I put in about 20 days of surf casting before I gave up last year. In fact the only striper I caught all season came up in a throw net when I was going for surf smelt--and yes, I threw it back). I'm just saying. For those fisherfolk who don't have the money or time to go out on a boat, there's always the possibility of a big striper waiting just past that first line of breakers. And despite the toxic warnings, I for one am a big fan of striped bass meat. I rather prefer mine broiled in a light pesto sauce... but there are hundreds of options with striped bass.
Great spot for stripers: Rodeo California... it's all yours!
I should point out that I do not as a rule fish for stripers in the bay. But they are here right now for those who do. I received reports this morning of some nice fish caught in the south bay near SFO and all over San Pablo Bay, East Bay: Brick Yard and up into the Delta. No surprise there. So if you want some really toxic fish, you've got a lot of options deep in the bay, up towards the Carquinez.
Also, I'm noticing a lot of anglers piled up on Fort Point Pier already this year, and despite the fact that it probably means there've been a few fish caught, save yourself the trip and go somewhere else. Or just walk along the shore towards the bridge and cast out from the rocks. Unless, of course, you actually enjoy combat fishing. Baker Beach, Ocean Beach, Cliff House, and all the Pacifica beaches are great
potential spots for stripers. I should point out that some one gave me an erroneous tip about Montara Beach. Whatta drag. All I can say is if you can catch a fish on Montara State Beach you're doing a lot better than I am. I feel like I've spent a cumulative 14 years down there casting into the roiling surf with not a scratch to show for it. Which is why, in this one instance, I don't mind giving away a location. I'm bitter, and want to share the hate.
Anyway, for what it's worth: Everyone I've talked to of late whose gotten a striper has had success using the smallest hair raisers they could cast.
Halibut
Once again the season begins not with a bang but a whimper. I base my opinion on the fact that the most lethal halibut killer I know, Loren Wilson, didn't even bother fishing in March.
Loren Wilson, sticking to nightsmelt for the time being
Not that anyone is surprised by low halibut numbers the last few years. When salmon closed halibut got slammed like never before, and there simply had to be a drop off.
Luckily there are off shore reserves that should be able to replenish the population... eventually. As long as the draggers leave a few for the rest of us!
Curiously, the health department tells us that halibut is a relatively good choice for dinner. I mean, once per week for a woman in her "child-bearing years" is about as good as we can expect for a local predatory species. Hopefully, April's update will have something happier to report as re: flatties... but don't hold your breath.
Though the surf smelt have yet to arrive, there have been plenty of night smelt so far this year. If you have no intention of building your own A-frame from scratch and wandering the freezing, rainy, windswept beaches at the wee hours of the morning, I don't blame you. However, there have been some really high-quality night smelt at all the Asian markets of late. Most of these fish are coming from the Eureka area, but judging by the high quality they are arriving only a day or two after capture. Thing is, they are almost always labeled "lake smelt." So use this picture as a reference in identifying them:
Intertidal operative #006 (Mikey D.) calls to inform me that flocks of Caspian terns have recently arrived along the coast. This bodes well for the diurnal osmerids that we like flinging nets at. The caspians generally don't show up here till the surf smelt arrive. So you can expect that to happen any day now.
Shad
Roughly around the same time that some genius decided to bring striped bass into our estuary, the American shad showed up. I still have difficulty believing that we have shad runs on many of our local Ca. rivers. (Namely: The Yuba, Feather, Sacramento and American) But the truth is, our shad stocks are quite robust, and although the Pacific version of the American shad is not quite as hefty as the Atlantic, the sheer volume of fish can be incredible. We're talking about catching between 20 and 50 hard fighting 3-5 pound fish per day--when the bite is on. Which it usually is around the end of April.
But the thing is, this is a crepuscular fish. To get into the shad you gotta get to the rivers early. A half hour after the sun comes up the bite will abruptly cease, (picking up again around dusk).
And what do we do with shad? Most people just throw them back. Despite the fact that "planked shad" is one of those great American delicacies that everyone has heard of but few have actually eaten, most fishermen see shad as not worth the effort of cleaning.
Having feasted on Shad, Washington and co., cross the Delaware.
Now, I myself am pretty good dealing with bones in a fish. But shad is another thing entirely. We're talking porcupine-like bones. Whole forests of 'em. I mean, it would take like six hours to tweeze out all the bones in a shad, and even then you wouldn't necessarily get them all. Trying to figure out how George Washington got away with feeding them to his troops before they crossed the Delaware. Oh right, they were starving!
Whether or not you know how to de-bone a shad (and really there are maybe 10 people in North America who could qualify as proficient shad de-boners), if catching massive quantities of a hard fighting mega-clupeid, while drifting down a sparkling California river is your idea of a good time: call "Cave-man Mikey" at 703-946-9567. Special discounts for people who refer to the Monkeyface News. And of course ten percent off for anyone of Czech ancestry (seriously, Mikey is trying to corner the market on Czech fishermen). And remember the big month for shad is May, so you'll want to book your trip now, before he sells out!
Mikey D. and two nice rock crabs. Mikey will put you on the shad: 703-946-9567
Abalone
Abalone opens April 1st. An appropriate day for the silliest of all fisheries. I've said it before, but when
you take into account the long drive, the insane hours, the combat fishing (amongst shore pickers) the possibility of drowning (or getting eaten by a shark), and the ever present possibility of inadvertently breaking one of the many rules (like for instance when you go to fill out your report card and the pen mysteriously stops writing--what then pray tell?), it hardly seems worth the effort. I hope I'm not losing credibility here. But that's my new take on it. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love to eat abalone... I just don't love it quite that much. Frankly, I think this year, rather than joining the melee near Salt Point/Point Arena I'm going to drive a bit farther north and go for...
Pacific Razor Clam
As long as I'm driving 2.5 hours north for abalone, why not tack on an extra couple of hours and go for an even more delicious mollusk? The pacific razor clam. The last few years (on a certain Humboldt County beach named for clams--hint hint, wink wink), have been fairly epic (due in part to cold oceanic conditions) and as long as you can get out there on a reasonably low minus tide you should be able to score a few razors. But be advised, if you've only ever dug littlenecks, cockles and horsenecks, this is a different game entirely. Razors dig fast and it's kind of important that you understand how to position your shovel or clam gun. I've only dug razors in Oregon and I found it easier with a clam gun than one of those curly shovels. Anyway, if I don't make the trip this month i will definitely go at the end of May... anyone feel like driving to Humboldt County?
Oh yeah, and by the way...
Mussels
So I've been getting a lot of questions about mussels of late. Particularly about how long they live and how fast they reproduce. California mussels can live up to 20 years and reach sizes in excess of eight inches. But even more remarkably, our local ocean mussel grows at twice the rate as the farmed Euro mussel and the Euro/Bay hybrid. In fact, in southern California, where there have been brief experiments at farming California mussels, biologists have noted that in optimal conditions Ca mussels can grow as much as half an inch per month. "Optimal conditions" evidently means: 1. that the mussels are always submerged (subtidal mussels grow faster than intertidal ones because they can feed all day and night). 2. that they are attached to rock. Mussels growing on rocks have better access to calcium
than mussels growing on pilings and other structure. Even in non optimal conditions random samples of mussels appear to grow at a mean average of 1/4 inch per month (until they reach 3 inches and then they slow down). So you are talking about a potential farmed seafood product that is native, local, sustainable (no waste to speak of, and no feed necessary if grown locally), and can reach marketable size in 6-12 months. So where in the hell are the California mussels in the seafood markets of California? Nowhere. Evidently the orange color of our California mussel is a deal breaker. Can you guys believe that? So strange. Evidently the orange color of our native mussels makes people think there's something wrong with them. I'm only mentioning this because I suggested California mussels as a potential farmed product to a friend who wants to start an aquaculture facility. Researching this we found the nonsense about the orange color being off putting. So I guess the answer would be finding a new name for California mussels that immediately lets people know that the orange color is not a problem... orange mussel? tangerine mussel? Golden sunset mussel? Golden state mussel? Ooh I like that one. My thinking on this is that whatever name we come up with it can't be further from "California Mussel" than Chilean seabass is from "Patagonian tooth fish." Oh and I'm open to suggestions here...
Bull Kelp Pickles
In my never ending attempts to keep everyone happy, I'm going to try to do a seaweed post every month. This month's post concerns the easiest of all local seaweeds to identify. Bull kelp (or bull whip kelp). Now as far as bull kelp goes know this: if you clip the "leaves" near the top of the bulb, you are not injuring it. But if you cut the "stalk" the kelp dies. Since most of my readers do not own boats this is a non issue. The way most everyone harvests bull kelp is to pick it up when it washes up on the beach after a storm. When doing this be sure to select a nice, crisp, green piece. Not the sun withered, dried out stinky old thing covered with kelp flies.
Cut yourself maybe three or four 12 inch secions of the "stalk" or stipe. Rinse these in cold seawater (as a general principle don't rinse offshore/sub tidal sea weeds in fresh water). Take a carot peeler and peel the outside of each section (especially if your bull kelp isn't particularly fresh). Now take the peeled sections and cut them into small rings. I like my rings maybe a quater inch thick, and maybe 1-2 inches in diameter. For bigger rings cut higher up towards the bulb.
Now that you've got your fresh cut bull kelp stipes, cleaned (in seawater) and skinned by carrot peeler, put them aside and start on your pickle juice.
The main thing with pickling liquid is this ratio: 3 parts vinegar to 4 parts water. You can use red, white, balsamic or apple vinegar. I usually do white. But I'm not a very adventurous pickler. The pickling recipe I use is essentially the same thing i do for herring, though I lay off on some of the spices and add garlic and black pepper. You will find a number of wonderful recipes for pickled bull kelp online. Here's what I do:
Ingredients:
1. Bull kelp stalks, peeled (use a carrot peeler) and diced into rings
2. Onions
3. Three quarts white vinegar
4. Four quarts water
5. Garlic
6. Pickling spice
7. Dill
8. 1/4 cup salt
9. 1/2 cup brown sugar
Take bull kelp rings and layer with onions in a glass, ceramic or plastic container (non metal). Put all the other ingredients into a pot and boil. After it comes to a boil pour the liquid into your containers till they are filled to the top. Shaking them a bit to make sure the pickling liquid covers all of the chopped onions and kelp rings. Refrigerate for 2-3 days.
Open and voila! Pickled bullwhip kelp. Yipee!
(By the way, there's all kinds of sites online with more involved recipes than this...)
Wow. Can't believe I got this done. Okay. Baby Django is crying again. Time to go. Back on the night fish tomorrow night. Hopefully some cool stuff to report in April. Until then, see you at, on, or in the water.
Kirk-out
Sleep deprivation. Diaper duty. Sleep deprivation. Diaper duty. Sleep deprivation. This formula should be covered under the Geneva Convention as a form of torture. Yikes.... where was I? Geneva Convention... Baby D. evidently doesn't give a damn about the Geneva Convention. And where in the hell did he get these lungs? (Tee hee) Poseidon have mercy! We've got a little Pavarroti on our hands. Can't wait to start him on tuba lessons. Although he seems to be a sort of 11 pound, 24 inch tuba all on his own... if you get my drift.
Smelt moon rising. Moon in first quarter.
Anyhoo. I was staring up at the quarter moon the other day trying to remember those former times when I chased sparkling fishes on the windswept shores of the Pacific Ocean (did I dream this former life?) And suddenly, at the fishwife's suggestion, found myself heading seaward with A-frames, buckets and net bags in tow.
Though I must say there was an intervening 15 minute period in which my smelt gear fetishism locked me in a state of crisis. Given this one opportunity to jump smelt, (and Poseidon only knows when the next will come) which of my hand made A-frames should I use? The svelt, aerodynamically pleasing "Surf Stryker," (known to trolls and orcs as Flame of the West) with it's hardwood dowell (birch i think) and its distinctive pictograms? (See Nico Von Sharkenheimer's elucidating comments below). The beastly "Mjolnir," (Smelt Hammer) with it's Phillipine mahagonny uprights, it's maple dowel, and it's distinctively patched red netting. Or the newest of the lot, "Caspian," with it's tern-like economy of line and it's elegan white netting?
In the end, "Smelt hammer" got the call. For some reason smelt hammer always gets the call. Here's the happy result:
In fact. This is shaping up to be the best night fish season in a years! And it's nice to find them so conveniently close to home. I realize of course everybody loves to fry and eat night fish whole, but if you take an extra half hour to head and gut them, you can do Camilladilla's parmesan/breadcrumb broilers... mmmm. As radical as it may sound, I prefer not to fry my fish. I guess I'm like Old Mr. Flood, in the Joseph Mitchell book, who viewed fried fish as a sort of culinary atrocity. And frankly, as I forge ahead towards my fifth decade, the old Satchel Paige aphorism rings with increasing relevance: "Avoid fried meats which angry up the blood." I mean, half the deal with eating small fish is the health benefit, right? Well that kind of goes out the window when you start frying them.
Broiled night smelt--which don't "angry up the blood."
Anyhoo, I may or may not post a video on the first night smelt expedition of 2013. Not too keen on giving away my spot, and there are guys out there who can tell where you are by the way the friggin wind is blowing! Please read Sharky's comments below (in the comment section) so that you know how I treat my night smelt partners. Seriously, my bad. I had no idea there was a gull-durned hole in the net bag. I swear.
Beisbol
The legendary Satchel Paige, ca: 1937, in his Ciudad Trujillo uniform. After surviving his Dominican ordeal (pitching in front of a firing squad) Paige returned to the US to find himself barred from the Negro Leagues for jumping ship in mid season. So what was an enterprising ballplayer to do? Together with his team mates Josh Gibson and Cool Papa Bell, he formed "Trujillo's Allstars," a barnstorming team that toured the states, taking on all challengers and spreading the story of his great triumph in the Dominican Republic.
Satchel Paige has been on my mind a lot lately. It's true, sleep deprivation allows for some pretty awesome free association... but watching the World Baseball Classic, and seeing the Dominicans take their rightful place at the top of the heap, I remembered the story of Satchel Paige and his abduction from Pittsburgh in 1937.
Team Trujillo: Josh Gibson rear left corner, Satch to the right of center (to Trujillo's left), Cool Papa, bottom row, center.
Unreal there hasn't been a Hollywood screenplay written about this. During the summer of 1937 supreme dictator Raphael Trujillo, who unquestionably makes the short list of the 20th century's worst people
(Don't believe me? Read this: The Parsley Massacre) decided to field his own baseball team to help his presidential campaign--and his ever tenuous public image. It's tough on a homicidal megalomaniac. The Domincan Republic was so beisbol crazy at that time, a politician evidently couldn't get very far without a team--a good team at that. So Trujillo sent agents to the States to round up the best available players, in an attempt to outmatch the rival teams. Well as it turns out, you could find quite a few decent ball players, ready to jump their contracts in the "Negro Leagues" of 1937. As the story goes, Trujillo's men offered Satch 30,000 large to round up some players and fly to Santo Domingo, which "el jefe" had renamed, you guessed it, Ciudad Trujillo. Satch was, according to his own account, not too keen on leaving his team in mid season, but Trujillo's boys made him an offer he couldn't refuse--supposedly at gun point.
Perhaps the greatest single tragedy in the history of American Sports. The great Josh Gibson was never allowed to play in the Major Leagues... and yet the legend grows. Show me a single baseball fan on the planet that has never heard of the only man to hit a fair ball clear out of Yankee Stadium.
In the end Satchel Paige, Cool Papa Bell, Josh Gibson, Sam Bankhead, Leroy Matlock, Harry Williams and Herman Andrews (all but Gibson of the Pittsburgh Crawfords) flew to the D.R. and played in the Dominican World Series. The level of play in that series was as high (if not higher) than any baseball ever played, anywhere on this planet. Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig bedamned! The rival teams sported names like Cocaina Garcia, Chet Brewer, Martin Dihigo (who was Martin Dihigo? Think: Joe Dimaggio and Walter Johnson combined) and Luis Tiant Sr. There are varying accounts of what happened next, but according to Satchel, Trujillo had them all locked up in jail before the big game to ensure they didn't go out drinking. (Not the biggest surprise to anyone familiar with the story of Rube Waddell). Then, after Satch pitched a few off innings and fell behind, Trujillo ordered armed soldiers to line up in foul territory facing the players. Satchel claimed: "They began to look like a firing squad."
Think about this next time someone tells you modern athletes are under a lot of pressure.
Manuel "Cocaina" Garcia, the 5' 8" Cuban phenom whose curveball broke so hard, it made batters go numb--hence the nickname.
Anyway, they won. I don't know about anyone else out there but a 1937 showdown between Martin Dihigo and Satchel Paige is something I woulda liked to have seen....
After rallying to win the series Satch and co. high tailed it out of the Dominican and as the saying goes, didn't look back.
Reading Junot Diaz's Pulitzer-winning book (The Brief, Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao). Lots of stuff about Trujillo. Ugh. What a wretched human being. Also finding that lil' baby Django is rather fond of Meringue, though he seems to prefer the Haitian style (sorry to my three Dominican fans). To anyone interested, here is a seriously beautiful compilation of Haitian meringues: "Haiti Cherie"
Wow what a difference a pacifier makes! Can't believe the little guy gave me 3 hours to do this post. Ok. There was a diaper change in there, but still. Pretty good.
Uh oh... somebody needs attention. Surf smelt and stripers any day now! Gotta scram...
Kirk-out!
A pisces of course.
Well... I'm trying to avoid the usual gushing pronouncements of early (sleepless) fatherhood, but it's difficult. "Camilladilla" Lombard, (aka: "the fishwife"), after a grueling 13 hour labor in which she heroically refused any and all pain killers, gave birth, naturally, to a 9.1 pound lunker, who will heretofore answer to the name of Django Ray Lombard.
Yes, the "D" is silent.
I will state this for the record: the lad has a pair of lungs on him that could really only be matched by his tuba blowin, sea chanty singin', fish tale spinnin' old man. His feet and hands make me think I oughta hire him out as a stevedore next week. Definitely got some of the fishwife's Viking blood in him, that's for sure. I haven't had a happier sleepless three days in all my life. And although I could wax poetic on the godlike endurance, courage and fortitude of my little fishwife. And the mind bending experience of meeting this adorable creature that's been holed-up inside her for 9 months, I will refrain.
Poseidon only knows when I will be back on or near the water. And frankly, I don't care.
Enjoying a wonderful little bubble with the fishwife and pollywog right now.
Okay... what else... uh oh... sounds like I'm back on diaper duty!
Hope a few of you got in on all those sardines that were down in Princeton Harbor last week.
OK gotta scram.
Kirk-out
