Saturday morning, before chores, I called Paul’s Bait to see if they happened to receive a load of live red shrimp.  Sometimes they get them and there’ll be so many anglers lined up outside the shop that they’ll sell out in minutes.  Not today.  Gene said there’s plenty.

    I bought enough to last both Sunday and Monday, which was five ounces for fifteen dollars.  The second I dumped the package of shrimp into a bucket of seawater I could tell most of them were already dead, meaning it pays to purchase them at five when the trapper shows up instead of nine‑thirty like I did.

    At least the enteromorpha was lively.  It’s still in the midst of a major bloom along the mud‑lined banks of Colorado Lagoon in Long Beach.  I stopped by on the way home to fill my other pale.

    In my garage I separated the dead ones into a container to be stored in the refrigerator, then dropped the live ones into a five‑gallon bucket with an aquarium filter set‑up.  By that time the ratio of live to dead was one to one.

    Sunday morning I tried to fish the rocks near Dana Point but from the parking lot I could hear the waves making loud crashes along the sand, something like the crack of distant lightning.  The Swell Chart was showing one‑to‑two feet, but indeed a violent three feet it was.  I walked all the way over to the rocks, but the incessant pounding and spray made any attempt to fish impossible. I tried for about a half‑hour, but my bobber in less than a minute would drift back into the rocks after I cast out as far as I could.

    So, as per usual, I trudged back to the car and drove over to try the rocks near the Dana fuel dock.  About five of us were using enteromorpha, peas and shrimp.  For the two hours I was there I saw nobody catch anything.  Several shrimp I used were munched off the hook, presumably by little guys.

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