Breakwall Don emailed the other day expressing an interest to fish this morning's 2.8 low tide at Opaleye Point and I knew Breakwall Darryl was itchy for some ichty, so I planned out a small trip.

Over at the slime pit, enteromorpha was hard to find. There was one small patch in Long Beach's Colorado Lagoon near the corner of East Sixth Street and Monrovia Street, just enough to fill a two-and-a-half gallon bucket.

Darryl and I were down the trail and at the fishing grounds by 06:15. When the low tide is 2.8, the rocks we use to access the platform are all under water. I cast a Fish Trap here and there while waiting for enough light to be able to have a view through the water so I would know where to step. I already knew I was going to get wet, but if you can't see where you're going, the Danger of slipping and going under looms large.

I didn't have any hits on the Fish trap, so I packed everything up and stood there at the shoreline studying the swells to know when to cross. Today, the water was flat and glassy, thanks to a high-pressure system over The West. That very much helped our cause. Just then, I heard Don coming down the trail and I demonstrated to the two what it takes to hop and splash to the staging rock.

Once I was there, with my pant legs soaked only up to my knees, I caught their fishing gear as they tossed it to me. It's easier to cross if you're not carrying anything.

From the platform I cast the Fish Trap for naught until the sun rose. I then switched over to my ten-pound enteromorpha rig. There we were, the three of us watching our bobbers for any indication of the day's pending action.

Darryl was the first to hook up, landing an opaleye of about three tacos. In the bag it went. Next I caught one, but at only six inches, it was released. Darryl ended up catching the most. His five keepers were topped by a one-and-three-quarter-pounder. I caught three keepers of the three-taco size, with two little guys released. Don caught two, keeping one pound-and-a-halfer.

Every now and then we would see a batch of sardines being sprayed out of the water by a vicious predator. The way it was happening, I figured they were white seabass. Could I have the success of two months ago when I nailed them two big whites? I grabbed my Fish Trap rig two or three times, casting the lure exactly where I saw the boils, but no. I never had a hit on the plastic all day. Looking back, I should have tied on a chrome Krockodile for that purpose.

As the tide rose, the bite for opaleye completely died out. Don had to work that night, so he headed up the trail and on home. Darryl and I — still not drained of our angling juices of desire — hiked over to the M. Ledge to give it a try. Another hour saw Darryl catch two and myself one, all too small to keep.

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