My toothy Friend-- the Barracuda-- Arrives of the San Diego Coast

A text message buzzed me awake at 6:30 Sundayp morning. The terse message read “ 3 cuda hook ups - OB.” It was from a fishing buddy already out in the kelp beds off Ocean Beach.The message got me racing to my boat to get it ready for the 21-mile drive down to the launch ramp at Dana Landing. Stuck my keys in the 4Runners' ignition switch but nothing happened.p My battery was completely dead. A quick call to AAA saw my truck purring in the driveway in record time. The tow truck driver’s simple advice to “drive my 4Runner for 45 minutes to charge its battery” was all the excuse I needed to grab some CD;’s and head down to San Diego Bay. I left my boat at home and headed for the San Diegopcommercial tuna boat harbor. Harbors bring out my inner wander lust and looking at 80 and 100-foot tuna trawlers always make me remember California is still a very good place for commercial and sport fishing. The early morning text message was still fresh in my memory, so I punched in my buddy’s cell phone number and asked if anything was still biting?”. He said the bite had dropped off with the freshening incoming tide but was hopeful it might pick up again at slack water later in the day. But back to my old friend, the toothy, tussling barracuda. ‘Cudas are an important part of what ties me to offshore fishing here on the Southern California coast. They appear as soon as the water warms up and I’ve come to think of them as voracious scoutin the advance guard of the yellowtail schools that appear yearly here off San Diego. Cudas today aren’t nearly as large as the logs I caught in my youth off the eastern shore of Catalina Island. While today’s average cuda may be only 26- 28 inches long,p you know you’ve tied in to a real sport fishp when you’ve got a schoolie sized fish on the business end of a lightweight rod and reel. They’re capable of sizzling runs that tear line off your reels and bend your rods, a trait that has always reminded me of their much larger and seriously toothier cousin, the Wahoo. Very few people have the ability to consistently catch barracuda, but Im fortunate enough to have learned how to fish from one such person, Joe Cornejo of Azusa, California. He was the one person who taught me the first rule of intentional cuda fishing-- always use a wire leader. 50 years and maybe 200 cleanly severed monofilament leaders later, I still make sure I use a wire leader if I think there’s even a slight chance of tying into a cuda. I have a lot of respect for a barracuda’s teeth, even a little 26-incher can rip the hell out of your hand if you foolishly reach into its mouth to remove a jig or hook. Barracuda are the reason I carry fishing pliers on my belt when I fish off shore. Cudas have a bad reputation when it comes to fish dinners. Most people complain the flesh is too oily, or disparage this species because it’s a mackerel with a bad attitude. The trick to fixing good barracuda is to remove the oily reddish lines of meat on both its flanks and BBQ the fish using your favorite BBQ sauce or just drizzle lime juice on it before serving. There’s another cuda-based recipe that has a an almost mythical appeal when its made fresh in the galley on many of the sport fisherman here down here. The dish is barracuda burgerspand it'spthe perfect lunch after a morning spent sport fishing. Maybe this week, after the weekend traffic on the ramp at Mission bay, dims to a memory, I’ll launch my boat and spend a quiet morning running up and down the kelp forests, hoping I hook up with a feisty barracuda or another staplep of Spring time fishing here in San Diego; the incredibly tasty white sea bass. Soon, the yellowtail will be back, and I’ll be out there, with fresh bait and fully charged batteries in my car and boat. And of course I’ll also have wire leaders stored in my tackle box, ready for slashing barracudas.—Jim Forbes, 04/19/2009