California’s kayak dinosaur hunters are a hearty crew. It takes real grit to suffer through hour after hour of frigid inactivity while waiting for a subtle ‘tap-tap’ that might never come. Sturgeon success, however elusive, is a powerful draw for those who seek them on the rain-muddied waters of San Francisco and San Pablo Bays and other tidal areas.
Guys such as Chuck Espiritu don’t stick out the dead time between bites solely for the delectable meat, described as a cross between halibut and a pork chop. It’s the ‘big fish, small boat’ deal that gets them fired up. White sturgeon is the biggest of big game for Central California kayak anglers. Landing one of these hard pullers, whether in the harvest slot or not, is a signal achievement.
RELATED: Fish Longer by Staying Warmer
You’ve got to be very lucky or want it badly. Let’s consider the discouragements: treacherous currents, water cold enough to quickly cause life-threatening hypothermia to those who wind up in the drink, and downright nasty wind and weather. And then there are the fish themselves. Handling any big game from the uncertain perch of a kayak carries its own risks.
Obviously, this is not a beginner friendly activity. On the other hand, it isn’t on the bleeding edge of the extreme either. For those with enough seat time to feel comfortable in big water and rough conditions, who come prepared for the hazards with the full suite of safety gear (waterproof clothing, PFD, VHF radio, knife, and a buddy etc), the bigger battle is against boredom. Waiting out a bite is a patient man’s game.
“You’ve got to have it. Sturgeon fishing is like big game hunting. You don’t get many chances but when you do its worth it,” says Espiritu, who’s corralled enough of these beasties to know. The last one he kept, right at the top of the slot, yielded six pounds of prime caviar and enough meat to carry him through the season.
Before we get to Espiritu’s rigging tips, let’s consider the kayak’s advantages in this fishery. Yes, you read that right. Espiritu feels his fishing sleigh outperforms any pricier powered ride. How’s that?
One, access to the skinny water of the sloughs. You can get right in there among these spooky fish without the fear of grounding, and do so with great stealth. Two, once hooked up, it takes only minutes to get one kayak-side.
I can sense the skepticism. The explanation is simple. Although kayakers fish while on anchor, once hooked up it’s a different story. With the pull of a quick-release, its time for a sturgeon-powered tow. “Rather than reel the fish to yourself, you reel yourself to the fish. It doesn’t take long. I’ve never seen a kayak battle go beyond fifteen minutes,” he says.
Now let’s get to the special equipment. The aforementioned quick-release anchor system is essential. It’s nothing more than a six-pound folding anchor attached to a float for later recovery, rigged for a quick get-away via a deck-mounted cam-cleat or similar easy release.
There’s one more tool of the trade, a sturgeon snare, used to control a fish while measuring it against the slot. Espiritu marks measurements on his paddle to take care of that tricky task. Anglers cannot gaff their prehistoric looking targets in this highly-regulated fishery. Although Espiritu now carefully handles his catches by hand, most anglers assemble their own snares using coated cable, a length of PVC pipe and a line tightener.
The bait of choice, and it must be fresh, is live ghost or grass shrimp, presented on a rig that’s a bit different from those used by most boaters. The leader is much shorter, just two feet of 80- to 100-pound mono sporting a pair of free-swinging 7/0 octopus hooks. Anything longer is tough to cast from a water-level perch. Weigh it down with a five- to eight-ounce sliding sinker. The main line is 40-pound braid, which stays on the bottom more readily in current. Some anglers add a topshot of thicker braid for abrasion resistance. As Espiritu points out, you’re bound to get gator rolls during a fight. A sturgeon’s diamond scutes are notorious line cutters.
Although the terminal tackle’s heavy by kayak standards, the rest of the outfit is not. Espiritu’s go-to is a tidy Daiwa Sealine X20 SHA conventional reel mounted on a seven foot Okuma medium action rod rated just 15 to 30 pounds. It is sensitive graphite composite though, with a soft tip that absorbs surges but plenty of backbone in the butt.
However great the temptation to stick it in a rod holder, fish it in the hand. “You always have to be attentive. You have to detect the sensitive bite,” Espiritu says. You might have to wait a long time for the next opportunity.
Espiritu figures prospects will be their best through the end of March or early April. Popular Central California kayak sturgeon spots include the Oakland Airport, China Camp and Montezuma Slough. Fast, muddy tides following rains improve the odds.
