By: Keller Batson


The sun begins to rise over the endless forests of the Olympic peninsula, mingling with the early morning expulsions of fog and dew. The calm sheen of the ocean, the sweep and wind of the mossy two-lane highway slips away beneath me. Every few feet showing the bumps and scars from its never-ending battle with mother nature. I cannot seem to drive fast enough; the siren call of the mighty pacific is pulling me faster and faster towards the little slip of beach I’ll be launching from. The rods are rigged, the tackle is organized, the boat prepped,and the cooler empty.
As I approach the launch the sounds of nature surround and replace the weeks stress with baited anticipation. Screaming eagles, squawking ravens, complaining seagulls, the barks of seals and sealions. Pulling my waders on and lacing my boots, I realize it’s been light for 30 minutes. I’m kicking myself for not rolling out of bed sooner. Its low tide and I’ve got my Outcast aluminum frame pontoon boat on my back. I Pick my way carefully through yards of tide pools with slippery piles of bull kelp squirming around my ankles. The undulating of the swell seems to match the beat of my heart as I load and strap the last bit of gear to my small one-man watercraft. The sky is overcast with the temperature hovering at 44 degrees. I am dressed appropriately, but the whisps of wind whipping around my head seems to find its way into every little crack and crevasse.

I drop into my seat, point the rear of my boat towards the kelp forest I’ll be targeting today then begin to pull. The oars move back and forth lulling me into a hypnotic state with their rhythmic motion as I look down into the alien world below me. Surprised creatures dart to-and-fro as I quietly slip overhead.One could come to this area with a large motorboat, but I’m after maneuverability and stealth.
After rowing for 5-10 minutes, I’ve reached water worthy of a cast. The first rod out of my quiver is the Rainshadow IMMC76MH, a 7’6” 8-17lb ¼-3/4oz spinning rod. My lure is a 5” white and silver soft plastic paddle tail, with a “knocker”creating a tantalizing rattle when retrieved. Having a way to go yet, rather than drifting slowly and searching for bites with “fan casts”, I choose to cast my bait behind me 20-30 yards and slow troll. The moment I touch the oars I feel the rod twitch and bend, I let go of the paddles and set the hook in one fluid motion. Just like that the first fish of the day is in my grasp. It’s a small Lingcod one to two pounds. With a quick pinch of my pliers the small fish reenters the water, I cast again and begin to row. I get about 7 bites and land 3 rockfish on my way to the kelp forest.
Upon reaching my destination I then decide to try and get my limit of 6 black rockfish first, before targeting lingcod. After looking for a school for 45 minutes or so I’ve caught 5 lings and 1 black rock. This is strange, in the past the reverse is usually the case. Lots of rockfish and less lingcod. But knowing theLingcod are spawning, there is likely a high volume of predators. Which is pushing the rockfish out of the area. My options having been weighed, and the decision being made. I reach back to my quiver and pull my lingcod stick. The SW966is an 8’, 12-20lb, ½-3oz, all-purpose RX7 graphite rod with a moderate fast action perfect for casting large 6-7” swimbaits. The lure of choice is a black bodied twin tailed scampi,with a red jig head weighing 1- 1/2oz. The fish are thick here today. In the first half hour I land 10 plus lings in the 2-10 lb. range. These fish come in so many different colors that without prior experience, one would think they had caught multiple species of fish. With brown, yellow, red, orange, iridescent neon blue, and combinations of all the above it can be hard to tell what’s on the other end of your line. The large variety of colors these fish exhibit is determined by diet, and the predominant hues of the environment in which the fish matured. Of course, my favorite is the neon blue variety. These fishes flesh appear as though they have swum straight out of the Fukushima reactor core. As though it would light up a dark room.
I’ve been targeting lings for 2 hours, boated 20 to 30. I can’t keep count. I cast the black split tail about 20 yards to the edge of some rocks and wait to feel my bait hit the bottom. Before I can turn my reel handle twice a nice ling freight trains my bait hard enough to drag me and my boat 5+ ft. My rod is doubled over, and I’m thumbing the line to keep this hot fish out of the rocks(a big no no in many fishing situations, but maybe breaking off is better than letting the fish get into the rocks and 100% breaking and losing my lure). Despite being mere feet from the boulders, due to today’s unique conditions I am in no danger of capsizing. Still, I don’t want to rub onto barnacles and mussels any more than I must. Thus, it is time to try and row clear of any obstacles to net this fish. I see the fish is hovering about 5ft below the surface while I keep tension on the line. Sliding the butt of the rod in between my legs and pinching the reel with my thighs, I begin to row away from the rocks. Now clear, I pick up my rod carefully pulling the fish towards me with my right arm, the net poised in my left. One quick shot and the 10 lb. fish is in the net. Grabbing it by the gill, I put it between my legs. Then once again use my thighs to squeeze the fish hard right on the gill plate. The fish immediately goes limp like a kitten held by the scruff. The fierce eyes of this predator look me up and down as I reach for my club. Two quick pops and it’s over. I cut one of its gills to drain blood from the meat and throw it into the cooler. Why into a cooler and not on a stringer? Most of the time when kayak fishing one would just dangle the fish in the water below the boat. But I know there are massive 1500+lb sea lions in the area. Just waiting for the opportunity at an easy meal. So, I am trying to reduce my chances of having an altercation with any massive pinnipeds.
My day on the water being about half over, I take stock of my catch so far. There are 4 rockfish and 1 lingcod in my cooler. It’s now time to use my favorite (and most effective) technique for targeting large lings, live baiting greenling AKA ling candy. The small tan up to 5 lb. fish is irresistible to the voracious lingcod. I put a small 2.5” bright red vertical jig onto my IMMC76MH and move right up to the edge of the bull kelp. Within 5 minutes I have landed a perfectly sized bait about 2lbs. The time has come use the last rod in my quiver. A red and black themed 30-60lb, 10-14oz, moderate action REVSJ70H-CW-CG slow jig rod. Originally designed to effortlessly fish vertical jigs for pelagic fish like tuna and yellowtail. The small diameter and unexpected power in this 7ft rod make it ideal for fishing from a small craft in tight quarters. I take out a 3-foot wire halibut leader and strategically place the hooks to allow my bait to swim as naturally as possible. Then tie a three-way snap swivel to my 50lb braided main line and snap a 6oz. lead ball on to the clip. Lowering all this to the bottom. I reel up a crank or two to keep from snagging the bottom and to get a good feel for the weight of my bait. Now that I have a feel for this set up, I drop and begin to wait. Tightening my drag I prepare the net and wait for the rod to bend double. The unique thing about this style of fishing is there are few exposed hooks. Most of the time, the only thing keeping the lingcod on the line is the predatory instinct hold onto its meal. It doesn’t take long before I feel the greenling swimming franticly back and forth on its tether.Indicating to me that a lingcod has zeroed in on the small baitfish. A few moments later my rod doubles over. The headshakes are violent as the lingcod rips at the bait below me. Its only 20-30ft to the bottom here so the fight will be short. Thus, the fish will not be tired once near the surface in range of the net, making for a highly unpredictable fight. My rod in my right hand and the net in my left. I pinch the bottom of the reticulum between my palm and its handle to reduce drag in the water. I slowly raise the rod and once close enough shoot my net below the fish. GOT HIM! As soon as the net touches the fish it feels trapped and dives. Nearly pulling the net out of my hand. I place my rod safely into the rod holder. I lift the fish out of the water to rest on top of my legs. This fish is not the one I was looking for. But being near 15lbs it is more than big enough for table fare. I would label it a medium inshore lingcod. The Washington State record is 61lbs, which would be about 5-6ft long. I decide to keep it.
With my ice box approaching capacity it’s time to start thinking about heading back. The tide is going out and this far north its movement can be dramatic. Today’s tidal swing is about 2 ft. prompting me to wait a bit longer. I could be humping my gear an extra 50-100 yards over kelp and slippery rocks if I rush out of here. With 4 rockfish and 2 lingcod, I am only two rockfish from my limit. Being little over a mile from the pullout, rather than pulling hard on the oars. I begin slow trolling back the way I came. Out goes a cast, then to the oars, pulling gently every 3 seconds to keeping my bait in the strike zone. I have gone 40ft and the rod tip twitches twice,then bends over double. From the feel of the fight, I can tell this is a most likely a rockfish. My instincts being correct, it’s a keeper about 3lbs. I repeat the process and before I know it, I am 2/3 of the way back to the launch, limited out.
Upon arriving on the beach, I look back on the day and reflect. The weather was unusually calm and uncharacteristically cooperative. An occurrence I cherish here on the temperamental northwestern pacific. Letting me spend my time fishing. Not fighting with mother nature for position. Proceeding to begin the end, I ease out of my seat and drag my boat up onto the beach. I snap a few pictures of my catch and wrap and secure the rods. I cut the lures off the reels and return them to the tackle box. Unstrap and deflate the pontoons before draining the cooler. All this taking me about a half hour, I see my gear is neatly stacked. Satisfaction radiates through me as I feel the lifelong itch had been temporarily scratched. I head home and my mind is relaxing now that I’ve got some white meat for the freezer. Lightly I grab the shifter and pull into drive. Already planning my next trip, the ocean slips away in my rear-view leaving shimmering memories fluttering to the forefront of my mind.
















The 24 PENN Fishing University anglers who headed out for an 8-day long-range adventure aboard Captain Ray Lopez’ American Angler from Point Loma Sportfishing in San Diego knew they would be faced with a dilemma. Head deep into Baja waters to take a chance at tropical exotics like wahoo, or just go partway down, and then come back into US waters for a shot at big bluefin tuna.
DECISION TIME
KELP PADDY MAYHEM
BLUEFIN CITY
SAGE OBSERVATIONS
TACKLE TIPS
JACKPOT WINNERS
With the testing now behind us, 24 of us lined up and prepared to board the Royal Polaris with Capt. Roy Rose and his stellar crew. This year we had a few new faces that decided to join us and we’re all so glad they did. After we pushed away from the dock and headed to the bait receivers, I noticed that everyone was being cautious and respectful of space and avoiding the typical boarding mayhem (gear storage).



I wanted my two sons to experience big game fishing, what we got was a whole lot more.”
We started our adventure by arriving in Cabo San Lucas on Monday, November 23rd. We figured we would spend the Thanksgiving week with one day of fishing then enjoy all that Cabo has to offer for the remainder of our time there. We booked a fishing charter in advance with Fin Addict
The day was long and quiet, we ran more than 15 miles along the Pacific / Sea of Cortez dividing line looking for signs. We saw a few birds and some dolphins, but no spotted or spinners, which tuna typically hangs out with. All-in-all not a lot of life by Cabo standards. After hours of trolling with intermittent running to check out glimpses of hope spied through the binos, we turned back towards the cape hoping to pick something up closer to shore. We did see one striper that we cast on several times, but it just wasn’t having it. At the end of the day we were skunked; the only catching we did was skipjack to fill the tuna tubes on our way out in the morning.
Thursday started out as a beautiful early morning run on the Pacific side toward Jaime Bank, but about 30-minutes into the run things started getting rough and by the time we started to troll we were rolling gunwale-to-gunwale with capping seas and a pretty good swell. Again, after trolling for several hours with no good signs we began to fight off those feelings of doubt. Determined not to be skunked again, we turned and trolled down swell towards Lighthouse Bank on reports of a bait ball and potential for marlin. On the way we encountered a striper and played a game of cat and mouse for 30-minutes, landing bait practically in its mouth, but it just wouldn’t bite. Once on the bank there was bait in the water and plenty of boats, but no bent poles.
The seas were clam and talk around the bar at the pool was of the good fishing currently taking place. We sat down and chatted with Axel who assured us that fishing is very good and that our cruiser would be awaiting us at 6:30 in morning. Arrangements for lunch and cold drinks were made and a check on our Mexican fishing license finalized arrangements for the following days fishing.
The veranda offered up an excellent venue to enjoy a warm Mexican evening on the Sea of Cortez and a cold Pacifico made for a good choice while waiting the chef’s specialties of ceviche, home-made tortilla soup and grilled pargo off the dinner menu.
It was mid-morning and we had only a couple of billfish strikes, that were so soft that lines were not snapped out of the outriggers. It was like the billfish were just not hungry, although this fishery showed of birds, flying fish and dead calm seas.
Day two started off with a run out to the tuna grounds again, and we found them just about 3 miles off the beach…a huge school of porpoise. Rigged up with small 125 mm Sevenstrand jet heads and hoochie rubber jigs, tuna jumped all over them. Another boat hooked into a marlin while running through the porpoise and this angler hooked into a striped marlin that ate a tiny hoochie jig, only to have in come unbuttoned after 10 minutes. Our choice for light tackle tuna fishing was a matched set of Daiwa Saltiga rods and high-end Saltiga LD30SH reels, spooled with Daiwa J-Braidx8 line. With the fish locker, loaded with ice, now filled with tuna we headed off in quest of more marlin or hopefully a sailfish.
All of a sudden there was an explosion on the short line lure, as a huge blue marlin cleared its entire body out of the water with an orange marlin lure hanging out its huge mouth. The sight of the leaping massive blue was just like the TV commercial for Tropic Star Lodge off Panama of their black marlin being fought.
If I am going to take Badger I have to make sure the weather is good and that I have multiple people on the water that I can call in case of an emergency. Call me a responsible dad I guess. Chris Bona and Billy K were also going to be on the water so it was a go. The night before a big fishing trip is always prep night in the Lane household. As we were getting ready Badger came to me and said “Dad, I have a good feeling about tomorrow”. I smiled and agreed.
We set up a bait and let it out. Shannon, Badger and I are now getting the boat organized and decided to have lunch. As we were eating our sandwiches, we decided that we were going to call it a day because we were happy with the two fish we caught. As we are eating our sandwiches and out of nowhere…. Boom! The biggest blowup of the day. The fish jumped with a full belly out of the water. This was action. I instantly put the reel into gear to get tight on her, hook Up!! This is where it became the best day ever.
I grabbed the rod and I found a sweet spot on my boat near the bow where I keep two 22 gallon external gas tanks. I sat down on the tank and positioned the rod under my leg and laid it on the rail.. The rod is an Okuma SCT XXXH 7’6 rail rod and paired with Okuma Makaira 50. I got settled and yelled “Badger you ready?” I told him to come sit on my lap and fight this fish…I dropped the Makaira into low gear and Badger went to work… The radio chatter was on fire with all the boys cheering Badger on. Badger is giving it his all and hyping his own self up to not give up. Next thing I know , Shannon yells, “I see color!” He grabs the gaff and gets one end. We get up, Badger and I grab the other two gaffs and as father and son we gaffed her together. HE DID IT!!
Jackson Hole is where family is and where he grew up. As he said the winters can be rough but no place he would rather be in the summer. That is saying something with all the places Brandon has worked.
We went down the river for over 4 hours. I pretty much cast non stop that entire time. The only time I took a break was when Brandon made me a turkey sandwich. And using Covid safety measures he put on plastic gloves and made it for me in the boat. They also provided water and soda.