By Paul Lebowitz

Some strange stuff happens out there. Here are two improbable tales. First up, a look at the consequences of hiding one too many bananas on your buddies’ boats. Later, a comedic lesson of karma catching up after 17 swim-free years.

The NorCal banana battle
Joel Lotilla is something of a NorCal legend. Known as Mooch to his friends for his bait-begging ways, he’s a big, fun-loving guy who always has smiles to spare. A certain yellow fruit too, purported to bring bad luck to fishing craft.

“I’m known as a guy who gets a bag of bananas and hides them on others’ kayaks at tournaments. It’s all done in good fun. Everybody laughs at it; nobody takes it seriously. They’re kayaks, not boats!” Lotilla says by way of explanation.

In fact, Lotilla feels the sweet tropical fruits are good juju for ‘yakkers. “I ‘bananaed’ one guy, call him P-Spark, he was the only one of us out there that day to get a sturgeon. Another guy likes eating them. ‘E K’ thinks they’re great for breakfast; he’s always asking for another,” Lotilla says.   

Welcome or not, pranking invites retaliation. Lotilla remembers one o’dark thirty morning in particular. Just about ready to launch, he dropped a pair of rods into the flushmount holders on his kayak. Oddly, they didn’t quite fit. Puzzled and no doubt not quite awake, Lotilla pushed harder.

“I couldn’t get them all the way in there. I didn’t realize the problem until smashed banana started squirting out!” he says with a rueful chuckle.

Compared to what was about to happen, the slimed sticks were nothing. Lotilla was at another NorCal Kayak Anglers tournament at the time. These things are incredible; the potluck feasts that follow the fishing are full-on culinary throw-downs. At this one, a 70-lb roast suckling pig was the center attraction. Little did Lotilla know, he’d meet Mr. Piggy again early the next morning.

“I opened the hatch of my kayak and I swear I screamed like a girl. The pig’s head was in there and looking right at me. It was totally Godfather,” Lotilla says through a burst of laughter.

“I’m done; I can’t top that,” says the reformed prankster of his surrender. But he still can’t shake the reputation. “When someone finds a banana, they always point the finger at me. I can’t defend myself!” the former banana battler says.

Truly what goes around comes around. Here’s another example:

HERE’S LOOKING AT YOU – Joel Lotilla’s little friend peers out from his hatch. The surprise passenger was retaliation for one too many bananas hidden in his buddies’ kayaks.

ONE FLIPPER TOO FAR – When a fellow guide and close friend of Jim Sammons’ went for an unplanned swim, Sammons couldn’t resist poking fun. It’s his normal M.O., meant in jest, and Sammons takes it as well as dishes out. Over at the Kayak4Fish forum he runs, Sammons changed his friend’s name to “Flipper” and substituted a photo of the famous dolphin star for his buddy’s avatar. It didn’t take long for the karma bill to come due, with interest.

Karma is a… Well, you get the idea
Jim Sammons’ name has appeared on these pages many times over the years. With good reason; the owner of La Jolla Kayak Fishing is one of the most accomplished big game kayak fishermen anywhere on the planet. He’s also known as a cutting wit; many an angler has felt the sting of a stiff ribbing from the guide with a gruff sense of humor.

Sammons is all bark but no bite, even when giving a close friend a ration over an unintended swim. In this case, the victim was a fellow guide. In a freak accident, a clump of kelp wrapped around a lobster buoy ‘grabbed’ onto the bait pump dangling over the side of the unfortunate’s kayak. A swell rolled in, the water rose, but the kayak had nowhere to go but over. Sammons’ buddy was out of the water in a flash, but Neptune claimed a nice new quiver of rods.

Sammons, who hadn’t flipped or lost gear in 17 years of kayaking, couldn’t resist poking fun. Over at the Kayak4Fish forum he runs, Sammons changed his friend’s name to “Flipper” and substituted a photo of the famous dolphin star for his buddy’s avatar.

It didn’t take long for the karma bill to come due, in even more outlandish style.  

“I never fish on Saturdays and I wish I had stayed home,” Sammons says, foreshadowing the evil to come. He was guiding a pair of novices that foggy and rough day. The ‘lubbers started to turn green, but the fish didn’t mind the conditions. It wasn’t even 7:30, yet they’d pulled in a couple of schoolie yellows. Sammons had the fish on a lanyard resting on his deck.

They decided to head back to the beach, trolling on the way, and that’s when the comedy of errors commenced. One of the clients fouled his line. Sammons paddled over to clear it, but before he could finish the greenhorn inexplicably started to paddle away. The hook sank into Sammons’ finger; the guide lunged forward to take the pressure off his trapped digit, knocking the ‘tails into the drink.

“The next thing I know I’m swimming,” says Sammons, two years later still incredulous. He’d been waylaid by an opportunistic knothead; the big bull sea lion struck the moment the fish hit the water. The beast’s forceful tug on the fish lashed to the ‘yak turned it turtle, sending a brace of expensive Trinidads and a priceless custom rod – a present from his wife marking a keystone anniversary – straight to the bottom.  

“It had to happen sooner or later,” a contrite Sammons says of his quick comeuppance. Ah, but there’s a happy ending to this woeful tale. Sammons humbly aired his story on Pete Gray’s Let’s Talk Hook-Up, and posted GPS numbers for his sunken treasure on his website. Six days later, he got unexpected news.

“How could a pirate scavenger keep a rod that says ‘Happy 15th Anniversary?” diver Dave Boles wrote. Boles had heard of Sammons’ plight on the radio and gone out hunting. He was just about out of air when he spotted a glimmer of gold under a kelp stalk. Eureka! A short while later the karma train came full circle and Boles was rewarded for his good deed with a trio of spearfish ‘tails.