By Paul Lebowitz

Dan Edwards of Ukiah realized a dream the other day. While kayak fishing the Delta not far from Fairfield, he felt a quick tap-tap on the line, reared back and swung hard on a sturgeon.

“Boom! It was game on,” Edwards recalled of his first ‘dino’ powered ride. “The fight in those sturgeon is unbelievable. Every time it whipped its tail line peeled off the reel. Crazy. I said that ain’t no bass.”

Eventually Edwards wrestled his fish into a snare, where it taped out at 66 in. The absolute top of the slot, roughly 100 lbs, legal to keep and exceptional table fare, but Edwards never considered killing it.

“There was no doubt in my mind. It was so large, and full of eggs, and they take so long to get to that size. I said no way, I’m not going to keep this fish,” Edwards explained.

Voluntary releases such as Edwards’ big sturgeon are exceptional, but the care he took applies to any fish. All kayak anglers need to know how to pull off a gentle release, because releases are inevitable. Too small, too big, out of season, the ‘wrong’ kind; even those of us who fish for food can end a day with more fish let go than kept.

Most of the people on the water are well practiced at releasing fish, but in these days of looming fishing closures there’s no harm in going over the basics again. We paddle-powered anglers come across as environmentally friendly; let’s play the part and do everything we can to foster the resource.   

Handle fish you intend to release as little as possible. Avoid the delicate gills – be especially careful with fragile fish such as juvenile white seabass. Don’t hold bass or other fish horizontally by the lower jaw, and take care not to rub off a fish’s protective slime coat.

Most fish can be released right at kayak-side. That’s one advantage of our sea-level perches. Smaller fish need not even be touched. Simply grab the hook shank with pliers, rotating the hook out away from the barb. The fish’s own weight will usually do the job. 

THE SMILE WAS ENOUGH – Dan Edwards with his 66-in kayak-caught sturgeon. The Ukiah angler said he never considered keeping the legal fish. At an estimated 100-lbs and stuffed with eggs, it wouldn’t have been the right thing to do. PHOTO COURTESY GREAT WHITE KAYAK COMPANY

LETTING IT GO TO CATCH ANOTHER DAY – There’s an undeniable satisfaction in seeing a trophy swim away to fight another day. PHOTO COURTESY OF EAST CAPE KAYAK FISHING

If you are in the thick of a hot bite on fish you plan to release, consider changing out trebles for single hooks to reduce the chance of unnecessary injury. Even mash down barbs. Some devoted catch and release spotted bay bass anglers routinely file down the back barbs on their crankbaits, because these aggressive little fish often end up with the front treble in their mouths and the back one stapled on the top of their heads.

Fishing with live bait? Try circle hooks. These no-set beauties usually end up right in the corner of a fish’s mouth. The chance of gut hooking goes way down.

Gaff only fish you intend to keep, and go lightly with the net too. A fine knotless mesh is best. Cheap nets can damage fish, perhaps splitting a halibut’s tail fin. It’s a situation best avoided. 

Unfortunately there are times the kayak can be a disadvantage. We can only pull so hard! A battle with an exceptionally large and powerful fish can go on for hours. When the fish finally gives in, it is absolutely spent. It may take extra effort to revive it.

Black seabass are a prime example. Judging by the number of incidental hook-ups, these fish seem to be coming back strong in Southern California’s kelp beds. By the time a kayaker manages to get one of these beasts to the surface, the fish are often totally gassed. Successfully releasing them can take a major effort.

Kayak fishing guide Jim Sammons of La Jolla Kayak Fishing feels flagging down a boater who might have a release weight or can attach the fish via breakable line to an anchor chain is the fastest option. If there’s no one around, just keep at it, moving the fish side to side. As Sammons said, if you’re going to be out there fishing, you’ve got to take the responsibility.  

All of these steps are common sense, appropriate for ‘meat hunters’ and bassers who never keep a fish. Simple enough; it gets murkier from here.

As Edwards showed with his egg-laden sturgeon, just because you can legally keep a fish doesn’t make it right. As sportsmen, we are all responsible for the resource. Many of us develop our own angling code of ethics, maybe observing a slot limit for certain fish, or keeping just enough for a meal or two.