by Nick Curcione

When I say that I love to fish (fly-fish) I’m not merely exaggerating. Fishing has dominated my life to the extent that I’ve made major career decisions based in large part on the opportunities I would have to wet a line.

Of course, when you are young you have to play with a hand that’s been dealt primarily by your family circumstances. In terms of fishing, I was pretty lucky in that respect. Growing up in New York in close proximity to Long Island Sound, I had uncles who loved to be out on the water and fishing was the major pastime.

When I was a freshman in high school, my father felt that Los Angeles was the promised land and we made the cross country trek to settle in Manhattan Beach. My devotion to football suddenly evaporated. Instead of tackling dummies and running wind sprints, I spent most of my free time on the local piers catching halibut, mackerel, bonito, sand sharks, perch and even some "log" barracuda. My meager earnings were spent on the local party boats. San Clemente Island was considered an exotic locale.

I fished all through college and graduate school, and when it came time to choose a university for an academic career I wanted a campus that was close to salt water. I really wanted to stay in Southern California but there were no positions at the time. In New York there were much better prospects, and since I had the opportunity to fish the waters of my childhood, I made the move back in the summer of 1970.

This is where I began to fly-fish in earnest. Bluefish on the fly are an incredible experience, but unfortunately during that time the striped bass fishery was in serious decline. During that period I was receiving steady reports of the red-hot bonito fishing in King Harbor. Coincidentally, in an incredible stroke of good luck, my Alma Mater (Loyola Marymount University in Los Angeles) offered me a position. I returned to Southern California in 1973 and remained in the area for the next 27 years.

For at least seven of those years, in the decade of the 90’s, I made annual summer pilgrimages back to the Northeast, and the inshore fishing was nothing short of fabulous. An abundant striper population accompanied the blues, which were often augmented with schools of bonito and false albacore.

With this kind of readily available inshore action, when I took an early retirement from the university, I decided to head back east again. But now, despite eight years of rewarding fishing, the long, cold, grey Northeast winters have lost their novelty. That, coupled with my wife’s constant longing to be closer to her two kids in San Diego, prompted us to relocate back to the Southland. Even though the bonito fishing in King Harbor is only a shadow of what it once was, we opted for our old neighborhood in Redondo Beach.

I now have easy access to one of my all time favorite environments, the surf. On my numerous visits back to the South Bay area during the last few years, I always managed to get in some surf fishing, and I’ve found the perch, corbina, halibut, and yellowfin croaker fishing to be as productive as ever.

So what measure of fishing wisdom do we derive from this seemingly schizophrenic sequence of bi-coastal transitions? The backdrop for this kind of discussion rests on the well-established fact that fishing preferences are highly subjective. Locale determines species, seasons, and accessibility, so obviously where one chooses to live is a major determinant of the type of fishing that presents itself. I won’t attempt to judge the merits of a Northeast vs. a Southern California saltwater fly fishery because it will generate arguments that probably will never be resolved. Simply bear in mind that like most things in life there are pluses and minuses to each area.

One west coast technique that really served me well all those years on the east coast is the use of fast sinking shooting heads. I remember back in the early 70’s, they were practically unheard of, at least among most mainstream salt water fly-fishers. Even today, they are not all that popular back there.

A few of my friends that I turned on to this technique are forever grateful, because they see how useful these lines are, particularly when fishing fast moving rips. I don’t want to appear dogmatic, but you can’t beat shooting heads when you want to probe the depths. For the shore-bound angler, they are one of the most versatile systems you can use. In about a minute’s time you can easily change to a completely different line. I wouldn’t hit the beach anywhere without a few heads stuffed in my pocket.

Regardless of one’s geographical affiliation, there is no denying the fact that the Northeast inshore fishery can border on the phenomenal. Striped bass and bluefish are prevalent and are prime targets for the shore-bound angler. At times, and in certain places, it is even possible for wading anglers to score on bonito and false albacore. During the fall months, which are considered prime time for the aforementioned species, few place anywhere can match the kind of dramatic surface action you’ll find off Montauk. And because it’s a migration period, all these fish can found literally in the same area.

In comparison to Southern California, one of the major distinguishing characteristics of this fishery is the prevalence of surface action. You will find much more opportunity to fish with floating and slow sinking intermediate lines. If you are dialed into the thrill of top water strikes, opportunities abound in the northeast. There are also some great sight fishing opportunities. I’ve had every bit as much fun stalking stripers in the shallows as I’ve had with bonefish and permit in the tropics.

The negative side to this is that the fishing is closely tied to the seasons, and in that respect the window of opportunity can be quite limited. For almost half the year, if you want to fly-fish the salt you have to plan on traveling somewhere south for a considerable distance. Another frustration is that in places like Connecticut the shore access is very limited. If you don’t have a boat (or access to one), your only option is to try and hire a guide, and during peak times, if you are not a regular client that can be a difficult proposition.

I guess what I love most about Southern California is that I can fish the salt all year long without having to hop on a plane. And the inshore access is practically unlimited. About the only expense is feeding the parking meters. In terms of launching your own boat, I would rate the situation in South Bay as abominable. You either have to go to Marina del Rey to the north or head south to the Cabrilla launch in San Pedro. For serious anglers, I find the boat hoist in Redondo to be highly dysfunctional.

Once you do get on the water and head offshore, I think that you will find consistently better fishing (particularly on species like albacore, yellowfin tuna, and sharks) than what normally prevails in the Northeast. We definitely have more months to fish the open ocean, and the weather is usually far more cooperative. And two of our highly prized species, yellowtail and white sea bass, normally do not require much of a boat ride. Yellows are one of my all time favorite species. Whether you’re fishing fairly close to shore or near one of the offshore islands, you would be hard pressed to encounter a critter that pulls with the ferocity of a yellowtail. For me, that alone is worth the trip back home.