By Chad Baron
Full Report for SQ Trip with K&M 7.25 and 7.26
I woke up super-amped at 5:30 AM Friday, with visions of the south swell pumping along the coast and pelagics gathering offshore under floating kelps. I had a bear of a work week, having been in Palm Beach, Florida on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and then working long hours on Wednesday afternoon and Thursday. I was ready to get this baja adventure started!
Having already packed the night before, I effortlessly headed across the 10 to pick up Scott Hall, who was, likewise, packed and ready to go (except for his nine-foot jig stick which proved to be a pain in the butt by sticking out the shotgun window the whole trip! OK, so it wasn’t that bad and at least he got plenty of serious bendos with it, but next time eight foot rods are the max!)
We quickly loaded his gear into my Avalanche, knowing that we’d reorganize when we picked up Reid in San Diego. The goal was to sneak into North County before the morning commute got nasty and we managed to do just that. Along the way we were treated first to Trestles showing us a taste of the south swell and then Oceanside truly announcing the swell’s energy level in the form of exploding white wash larger than the waves’ faces.
We had done such a good time with traffic, we needed to give Reid another 10 minutes so we headed down to Del Mar and my parent’s old digs. Fifteenth and Thirteenth Streets were not capturing the swell’s energy very well, so we knew it would be interesting to see where we would end up surfing along the way.
We picked up Reid and quickly loaded his gear. The three of us have known each other for the first 30 years of our 34 years on this planet, so it’s always a special trip to be with people that are basicall family. The only one missing from our crew was my little bro Brad (zzzzz), who is living perfectly happily in Costa Rica thank you very much. He did, however, manage to make a quick post on BD wishing us luck in looping the fish. As most of you know, Brad has an uncanny way of conjuring up some serious juju for fishing trips, so we were feeling good about our chances.
A quick stop at Mickey D’s drive through for breakfast and a last minute ATM withdrawal and we were on our way for the border. I had already gotten Mexi insurance on-line, so that was checked off the list. We topped off the fuel tank and I quickly got the free 7 day tourist card right when you cross the border. The guy was super nice and very helpful. There were hardly any other cars crossing the border. Norther baja tourism is hurting badly right now and it was both nice, and a little creepy, to have such little traffic to deal with.
We shot down the toll road towards Ensenada, seeing some guys getting towed into some serious bombs along a stretch of beach I had never surfed. (I can’t remember how far we were down to coast). We first stopped at San Miguel to check the surf. It was definitely catching the swell, but the tide was pretty high so there was some backwash making it difficult. Plus, it was pretty crowded already and we quickly saw a guy get snaked so we opted to keep heading south. I think psychologically we wanted to get closer to SQ before stopping to surf.
We decided to quickly stop in Ensenada for some tacos de pescado y camarones before hitting up the traditional Al Pastor taco stands in SQ. Damn, it was good to have those flavors back on the palate. I missed you, baja.
We decided to seek out Cuatros Casas and Shipwrecks since neither of us had ever surfed there. Before the turn off, Scott wisely suggested we get a cold 6 pack of Tecate for after our session. Little did we know that we’d be putting the mother’s milk into service much earlier; about 15 minutes on the gravely dirt road, we heard an eerie noise that sounded like a plastic bag getting sucked into the wheel well. Oh no, did I just get a flat on BRAND spanking new tires! I think my subconscious did not want to entertain the thought, so I kept driving a little bit. It didn’t feel too different, but then again the road was already very bumpy to begin with. Reid quickly made me face the inevitable with a matter of fact comment, “Chad, you have a flat.”
Buzzkill to our otherwise perfectly smooth trip so far! We piled out of the truck, after of course having to have either Reid or I get out first and pull out Scotty’s rods so he could get out of shotgun. Scott made up for this minor inconvenience by tackling the problem straight away. After 55,000 miles on the original factory set, I had never sniffed a blow out, so I hadn’t even had to figure out how to change my tire (I know, loss of man points right there). But, it’s Murphy’s Law that I get a brand new set after 5 years specifically for this trip (and the new baby) and then have a blow out.
It’s a bizarre process just to get the proper tools out of the truck, but after 10 minutes pouring over the manual, we were in action and the original full size spare was wrenched onto the truck and the flat placed back underneath the bed. Those cold Tecates came in very handy for our 30 minute detour.
We eventually rolled up to Cuatros and the swell seemed a bit mixed up and confused about where it wanted to break. We talked to a salty baja surfer who had just gotten out and said it was ok, but the tide was again playing some games. We decided to keep going to Shipwrecks, stopping along the coast where a group of guys had just gotten out of the water. It looked pretty fun, but we decided to forge ahead to Shipwreck’s.
Pulling up, we were disappointed to see the swell was pretty small. It was, however, definitely surfable. We knew the tide was dropping so we thought it would give us a little extra push. We paddled out for about an hour and 15 minutes and caught a couple fun rights, but the longboarders were definitely enjoying it more. We were content, though, to just get wet and were grateful to two surfers who handed out some more Tecates.
As we were getting ready to leave, we ran into a group of seven or so moto-cross riders and chatted with them. They were staying at Don Eddies as well, and were actually fishing with Oscar (Kelly’s oldest son) on the Offshore IV the next day. We told them we’d see them at Don Eddies’ for some cervezas later that night and were off for SQ.
We crushed some amazing Al Pastor and Carne Asada tacos and called Kelly Catian of K&M offshore who delivered the good news. His party from today slayed the yellows off the patties. And they were all nice size. He said the weather was looking great and it should be good the next day.
We finished off another couple tacos and stopped by Kelly’s pad on the way to Don Eddies. He further brought us up to speed and definitely liked our chances tomorrow. He told us the sandbar and point were absolutely pumping surfwise and a private boat was sunk on the way in, with a guy not only losing his boat, but breaking an arm in the process. Ouch. We agreed to meet at the Old Mill ramp at 5 AM to get the slaying started, hoping we wouldn’t suffer the same fate!
As we checked into Don Eddies, we met up with the motoguys, who were all down there with a group of long time friends who make this an annual trip. They were good companions to BS with during the trip and further show the friendliness of baja travelers.
4:30AM and our alarms go off. It’s nice and balmy already. We buy some more burritos to go along with the amazing ones Kelly’s wife cooks up. We loaded the gear, made bait pretty easily, and watched some guys doing step offs on some pumping rights at the sandbar. The point was still working as well, but the swell had backed off a lot from the previous day.
We shot out of the channel on a south-west heading, planning on going about 22 miles to reach the proper water temp break.
At 18 miles, though, the water looked nice and blue and the temps were hovering in the high 68’s. It was looking very fishy. George, el parejo, Kelly’s middle son, who is deckhanding with dad, spotted the first paddy.
We rolled up and tossed out some mackies. Boom, it’s game on and I’m bit. It seemed to be chewing a little on the bait, so we thought they were smaller yellows at first. I got spit and just then Reid hollered, “They’re here!”
We looked over and saw a nice 30 pound Bull dorado and some of his ladies swimming within spitting distance of our port rail. I still had my bait on and was actually reeling in right by them. Reid was in perfect position too, but the dodos turned away and all of a sudden both Reid and I were bent. I was using 40 pound and these were clearly yellows and nice size ones to boot, as I got cornholed in the kelp! Crap! Reid manned up and Kelly stuck our first fish of the day. I cast out another bait and quickly got picked up again. This time, I was inches from getting the yellow out of the kelp. I had more or less coaxed the fish out, and I had just one small stringer to clear, when pop, the small piece of bush perfectly came between hook and mouth. Damn, 0 for 2. Kelly had told us to not be too proud to use 50 because these were nice fish and I was reconsidering my tactics.
The paddy dried up and Scott was feeling anxious because he hadn’t gotten bit, but that would be the only time he was really blanked as he was on fire the rest of the trip. I was batting 0-2 and feeling rusty. Luckily, we spotted another paddy within minutes and it was gone on again. I decided to go with 50 pound and it made a huge difference. I worked over 2 nice yellows pretty quickly and once I had knocked off the rust dropped down to 40 and 30 the rest of the trip. Reid and Scott each nailed a couple of nice yellows as well.
Off again, and this time Kelly had a huge smile on his face because he had spotted the mother paddy.
We pulled up and it was loaded. This was the kelp that made our trip. We caught yellows using greenies, Spanish macs, and iron. About half way through the carnage, I got ripped and put the reel in gear, knowing instantly that this was a dodo bite. The line zipped along the surface in a crazy diagonal and, boom, the fish went airborne! It was a nice dorado and I brought it to the boat fairly quickly after about six nice aerobatic jumps. When we were unable to get her on the first gaff, the fish woke up and started sulking deep. I took my time with her and ended up with a nice 25 pound class hen. All the while, Scott and Reid were looping the yellows on the iron. They probably got 3 tails each during the time it took to get the dodo on. They were pulling hard and I was being a bit more cautious with the fish, since the dodos were not being the hungry, greedy pigs they usually are when encountering them off paddies.
After another 30 minutes of looping the tails, we saw a huge break of fish, almost for sure yellowfin, foaming up swell from our paddy. We were in the midst of slaying and didn’t want to move the boat and screw up the bite and the tuna sunk out without coming our way.
We quickly realized we were creeping up on boat limits, so we decided to release all the rest of the fish caught. We knew almost everyone else out there was having a very tough day, 1 or 2 fish so far, so we knew that there would be some grateful anglers back at the dock. Share the wealth!
Kelly called in Oscar and those guys put 8 or so nice fish on the boat. They also got about a 32 pound or so bull dorado that they saw in open water hanging with his hens. It was a very nice catch and between my female and this bull, they were the largest dodo’s on Kelly’s boats for the young season.
We had 20 or so yellows and a dodo in the kill bag, (releasing at least a dozen more) which was becoming a solid mattress of fish. We had plenty of fish and were just within boat limits so we took off looking for something else. Reider was on fire, not losing a single fish and releasing about 4 yellows.
We found one more patty loaded with dodos but they wouldn’t bite, instead just jumping along the outside of the kelp. They taunted us pretty good without a single hook up, but we were stoked by our day of fishing.
On the way in, we came across school after school of foaming bonito. They were absolutely terrorizing the coastal baits. A great sight to see.
We headed in and drank some cocktails at the Old Mill restaurant bar, where Kelly’s youngest son, Christian worked. He had some nice local bunnies with him. These Catian boys are the friggin pimps of SQ, I tell you!
Lobster Nuevo and plenty of beers at Don Eddie’s restaurant rounded out our evening and put a nice exclamation on a killer day of fishing. The south swell had pushed up the warm glassy water, the sun and wind were mellow, and the paddies were loaded. A perfect, perfect confluence of events!
Up at 5AM the next day to do it all again. I was moving a little slower than Reid and Scott, and caused us to be about 20 minutes later than we wanted. I was justly rewarded by a tough day offshore!
We headed out of the bahia and Kelly suddenly said “Whoa! That was a dorado jumping right there!” The water was about 63. Crazy.
We headed offshore and I spotted some nice splashing off in the horizon. As we drew closer, they were ponies working the bait. We put out some Mexican flags and a fish trap. Within 5 minutes of working the porpoise the port side troller went off and we were on our first yellowfin. The school did not come up on our baits, but we felt good to get some ahi on the boat so quickly.
Unfortunately, we worked the porpoise a great deal the rest of the day, but couldn’t get a bite. We did run across an area where there was a huge stretch of small paddies all close together. The whole area was holding, but it was more a couple fish per paddy as opposed to a whole school like the day before. Too much bush!
Reid and Scott each got 2 nice yellows and George also was able to land a hefty one as well. My only strike was a kamikaze dorado who bit my bait with abandon, but charged the boat immediately, zigging and zagging as I desperately tried winding in the slack to get a proper hook set. Alas, the fish never tasted solid steel and I was left holding an unloaded rod.
We headed in to the 240 to get some groundfish. My dad wanted a couple whole rockfish to steam up in some soup. We managed to get about 10 lingcod and some starries. Scott was on fire with the Tady 9, which was mysteriously outperforming the jax jigs and big mackies.
After a nice gaggle of lings and rockfish, it was time to head in. We went for some sick al pastor tacos and carne asada tortas at the Taco Stand Paty. Yum.
We loaded up on more cervezas and then went to Jardines later that night for some lobster tacos and bacon wrapped shrimp stuffed with crab. Damn, we ate well this trip.
We had decided to stay the night and take our time traveling home instead of trying to rush home after fishing on Sunday. Plus, we promised the wives no driving at night.
Kelly was kind enough to offer to take us to Soccorro for some surfing on Monday. We checked out of Don Eddie’s and headed to Kelly’s where we hopped into his suburban and headed down to Soccorro. We surfed fun 3 to 4 footers with George, Christian and Kelly. It was a perfect way to finish off the trip.
We crushed some more tacos at El Pablano taco stand and then again up at fish taco row in Ensenada. The border wait was no longer than 20 minutes, and that was after missing the proper ramp 3 friggin times as we comically went in a loop around a not so savory neighborhood in TJ.
We made good time up the 805, dropped Reid off, dropped Scott off and finally made it home right around 10PM.
It was a killer adventure. Huge thanks to Kelly and the Catian boys who once again were amazing hosts and deadly captains at the wheel. It is so great to fish with his family on their killer Parkers. They are the shiat down there.
Also, it definitely was less crowded on the roads. We never once felt in danger and didn’t see anything shady. I especially think once you get past Ensenada, you shouldn’t have any real worries. You can tell tourism is down big time. It felt good to be back in baja and to not come across any threatening situations. It felt the same as always— but even safer with the police and military presence.
FYI- there also were some toad biscuits brought in from Socorro area, so that is going to be another viable option to the offshore scene, which should just continue to get better and better.
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