Fishing

A walk on the beach turns into a catch this Idaho angler will never forget

As a teenager, fishing columnist Jordan Rodriguez took a walk on the beach in San Diego and lucked into a memorable encounter with this lunker corbina.
As a teenager, fishing columnist Jordan Rodriguez took a walk on the beach in San Diego and lucked into a memorable encounter with this lunker corbina. Jordan Rodriguez

Well folks, another fishing buddy is on her way. In fact, by the time you read this, my padawan learner, Quinn, will have been promoted to big sister. It’s an exciting time for our family, but as one can imagine, there has been little time for fishing. So, for this week’s column, I decided to fire up the way-back machine.

Our adventure takes us back to 2005. I had recently graduated high school, and my parents took me and my two younger siblings on a last-hurrah vacation before I left for college. After a couple days at Disneyland, we drove down the coast to San Diego, where we spent most of our time hanging out on the beach. One evening, I spotted a couple anglers surf fishing in the distance.

Like a moth to a flame, I went over to check things out.

As I got closer, I saw a small pile of silvery fish next to a couple of older gentlemen.

“Corbina,” said one, motioning at the fish. “They’re sea bass. Good eating! I’m Andy, by the way.”

I introduced myself and we started chatting. I told Andy I was from Idaho, where we had no shortage of fishing options — although nothing quite like this. Andy and his partner were using huge, 10-foot surf rods to launch their bait into the oncoming waves.

“There’s one!” Andy said, setting the hook. “But I don’t think it’s a corbina.”

Sure enough, Andy reeled in a small stingray, carefully avoiding the barb as he set it loose.

“You’d be surprised how many of those live here on such a popular swimming beach,” he said.

Over the next 30 minutes, Andy caught and released another stingray and a small leopard shark before landing another corbina. Like the rest, it was about two pounds. Each time he landed a fish, Andy dug up a fresh sand crab, using air bubbles on the surface to locate them.

“A never-ending supply of bait!” he chuckled.

We swapped stories of surf fishing for tales of hiking to Idaho’s alpine streams and lakes. With a perfect California sunset closing in, Andy handed me a rod.

“You came all the way from Idaho — we can’t let you leave without making a cast,” he smiled.

I happily obliged. The rod felt more suited for pole vaulting, but I managed to launch an awkward cast past the first breaker.

“That’ll work,” Andy nodded.

I felt a little nervous. The gear was completely foreign to me, and I didn’t want to let down these two old salts who had graciously included me in their evening. But, as the saying goes, a fish is a fish is a fish — and when the bite came, there was no mistaking it.

“You got him!” Andy cheered as I set the hook. “Way to go, Idaho!”

I didn’t want to oversell it, but this fish felt much bigger than anything I’d seen so far. Maybe it was just the surf, or the unfamiliar tackle. But as the fish surged along the beach, Andy got the same impression.

“Might be a shark,” he posited. “Or maybe a big guitarfish.”

After several minutes, Andy’s demeanor changed. He peered anxiously into the dimming horizon, trying to catch a glimpse of our quarry. I finally got the fish close enough that when the surf went out, a big flash of silver appeared on the beach.

“It’s a corbina!!” Andy exclaimed, wildly waving his arm like a third-base coach sending the winning run home. “Get that baby up here!”

After one final run, I wrestled the fish close enough for Andy to pounce on it. He beamed from ear to ear as he scooped up a silvery sea bass more than two feet long.

“I guess you had the magic touch, kid,” he whooped. “I haven’t seen one this big in a loooong time.”

I thanked Andy for the awesome experience and headed back down the beach to rejoin my family. That corbina was probably the biggest fish of my life to that point. And to this day, it remains a catch I’ll never forget. Tight lines!

Get Hooked on Mental Health April 24

Local mental health agency A Body & Mind Health Services will host its third annual Hooked on Mental Health event Saturday, April 24, at the Caldwell Rotary Pond. Anglers of all ages are invited to participate beginning at 8:30 a.m. Fishing permits are being provided by Idaho Fish and Game at no cost.

Organizer Patrick Fithen hopes to use the event as a platform to promote mental health awareness in the Treasure Valley and highlight the benefits of being outdoors. Caldwell Rotary Pond is regularly stocked with rainbow trout and is also home to bass and bluegill. Admission is free and all are welcome!

Learn how to Fly-fish May 20

Have you ever wanted to cast a fly on Idaho’s blue ribbon trout streams or watch a bass demolish a topwater popper? Now’s your chance! My next fishing class, Learning to Fly, will cover all the basics an Idaho angler needs to start catching fish on the fly. This brand-new class is set for Tuesday, May 18, from 6 to 9 p.m. at the Hilton Garden Inn Boise Spectrum. For more information or to register, visit www.tightlines208.com. I hope to see you there!

Jordan Rodriguez has been fishing Idaho waters since he was a teen. Share your fish stories, adventures, tips and tricks with him at tightlinesboise@gmail.com or visit www.tightlines208.com.

This story was originally published April 20, 2021 at 6:00 AM.

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