Saved by Crabs


It was going to be a battle. The South Jetty of the Columbia River hovered above us like the Swiss Alps. Those rocks had seemed a lot smaller from the beach and were a lot easier to scale when my buddy Michael and I had a lot fewer miles on the odometer.

We were trying to sneak in a little spring fishing between storms. Hoping to catch some rockfish in a spawning mode, we were willing to challenge the elements and the chilly weather for a shot at some tasty rock cod or a few pink fin perch. It wasn't raining, and the wind was moderate, but as we clamored over the Volkswagen-sized rocks, we found they were still wet enough to be a hazard to our navigation.

Clutching our rods tightly, we finally reached the top. Now we had a choice-fish close to the beach, or walk out a quarter mile or more to the far reaches of the massive rock wall. Michael suggested that we give it a shot. Off we went, heading toward China! After about 50 yards of rock-hopping, sliding and scraping, we reevaluated our choice. “Right here looks like a good place to stop,” I panted. “Looks good to me,” Michael agreed, so we took off our backpacks and started baiting up.

Other than the obvious goal of getting out and catching a few fish, my second motivation was to try a new strategy. Most of the folks who go jetty fishing use a heavy casting outfit, fish on the bottom or bounce plastic worms over the rocks. I wanted to try using my new Loomis Bobber rods, seeing if their great casting ability could get my offering far out into the waves. We'd use the same general gear we had used fishing in streams for salmon and steelhead-a bobber, three to four feet of leader and then a bait floating below.

On the rivers we had fished egg clusters and little jigs; out in the open water we were using chunks of shrimp, good bait for most everything. If there were perch in the water we knew we'd have action; hopefully rockfish would go after the bait if we got it close to the rocks. Our gear was pretty light and casting into the wind was always an adventure, but we figured to learn a lot from the effort.

Good Casts
The tide was fairly low and the waves pretty calm when we arrived. The first few casts gave some positive results. We were able to get well out into the surf, a good 40 yards or so into the waves. The bobbers worked the surface well and took a good five minutes to float back into the rocks, plenty of time for fish to see the bait. Unfortunately, we weren't finding many fish.

We weren't the only ones looking. Out in the surf in front of us, right next to our bobbers, cruised a good size collection of giant sea lions. Big males, well over a quarter ton, were splashing and diving all around us. We didn't see them get anything, but they certainly were making an effort, overhead a couple of immature bald eagles were eyeballing the surf as they spun in the rising breeze.

Competition was getting fierce and I was starting to despair when Michael's bobber dropped in the rocks. He gained line quickly and popped the outfit out of the bowels of the jetty. Clinging savagely to the bait was a mud-colored sculpin of some sort. Hardly big enough for bait, let alone lunch, he was tossed back into the surf. After a few more takedowns, we had hooked and released about half-dozen similar critters of various colors and shapes but none with enough bulk to get much interest.

Big Bite
I decided to try a little deeper. Trading my bobber for a couple of pencil weights, I put a chunk of herring onto my hook and threw it into the waves. The tide was rising; the spray from the breakers let us know that our jetty time was getting short. I didn't really feel a bite, but my line was starting to bend the rod. Lifting the tip, I could tell something heavy was chewing my bait. Reeling it into the surface, I could see a big crab holding on to the bait for all it was worth.

It had enough size to be legal, but I'd have to find a place to land it where we could reach. Using the rising waves to get to a flat boulder, I guided the Dungeness to higher ground. After a little scrambling, I managed to get the feisty male into a gunnysack. Crabs were a lot easier to find than fish. A few more casts and I had half a dozen more on the rocks. While most were female and had to be released, I did manage a couple of males to cook up for dinner, not exactly what we had in mind, but it did save us from eating the bait!

Soon the wind and waves had risen to levels a bit too close for comfort. We gathered our gear and headed back. We didn't have far to go, but the effort was major. A couple of hours in the wind and cold had taken all the shock absorber out of my legs! I took a pounding as I jumped, (fell!) from rock to rock; it felt awfully good to reach the sand!

While not the most productive of days, we had enjoyed a lot of activity, and we didn't lose a single outfit. A little later in the season, after the perch had arrived in good numbers, we'll try our bobber outfits again. If nothing shows, we could always try for a few more crabs!

Bob Ellsberg’s column, Fishin’, appears monthly in RV Life and rvlife.com.