HIT AND RUN: BATTLING LATE-SEASON YELLOWTAIL IN QUICK FASHION.

Byline: Brett Pauly Angling

The skipper said he was as surprised as everyone else on board that the yellowtail at Anacapa Island popped up at 8:30 a.m. like he had predicted.

``Unbelievable. You pulled another rabbit out of your hat today,'' charter client Michael Grossman of Tarzana told Steve Kelly, long-time captain of the Island Tak.

Somehow I questioned Kelly's sincerity; a good skipper surely keeps a sharp eye on the fishing grounds and the habits of its occupants. Yellowtail hadn't been showing anywhere else around the Channel Islands; that they were there then, as he had foretold, couldn't have been a coincidence.

``I had known how the fish were acting the last few days, so it wasn't like I was pulling it out of my crystal ball,'' Kelly admitted. ``So I had an unfair advantage.''

Aha, the truth of the matter. Thank goodness Kelly had done his homework; late-season yellowtail aren't easy to track - ``I don't know how long that's going to happen,'' he said - and are harder to hook. Once they are found, anglers usually have but one cast to catch the elusive exotic species known for their spirited fight and scrumptious fillets.

If anglers are willing to take a chance and move from spot to spot in speedy procession - known in the trade as ``hit and run'' or ``guerrilla tactics'' - the payoff can be great. Our party of six last Tuesday landed 14 of the 18 yellowtail taken by the entire sport-fishing fleet from Port Hueneme to Santa Barbara. Heck, I even boated two yellows, using 20-pound line. Tackle in the 15- to 30-pound range is preferred on this size class, ranging from 15 to 25 pounds.

Of course, the reward for the risky maneuver can be zilch.

It takes a collective nod from the paying customers before a skipper runs after yellowtail at this time of the year, for there are few guarantees . . . except a fast boat ride. While party boats are anchored with anglers content to fill gunnysacks with rockfish (at least for the time being; see related story above), those willing to gamble motor off to where the birds are crashing into the brine. For, you see, birds mean everything to yellowtail success.

Perhaps the first lesson ocean anglers learn is that our feathered friends are nature's fish finders. They spot the baitfish that have been chased up to the surface by ravenous game fish below. Follow the birds to locate the yellowtail.

Of course, that's the easy part.

``It's kind of tricky after that,'' said Rick Naber of Sylmar, a regular aboard the Island Tak.

The skipper must next figure out what direction the yellowtail school is heading by scouring bird movement and his electronic fish finder. Then it's his job to get ahead of the school and ``slide'' the vessel in front of the fish - cut the engine and use the boat's momentum to glide along.

When the skipper barks out the order to drop the bait - in this case live squid - anglers must wet their lines immediately to draw the yellows away from the forage they are chasing - in this case tiny sardines.

Naber explained the process:

``You're trying to have the fish intercept you by getting in front of them. You can't get too close, and you can't get too far. If the boat's too close, you spook them; too far, you miss the school.''

Suffice it to say, a delicate touch is required in the wheelhouse. Once all the nautical wrangling is complete, the angler will either get a strike instantaneously or not at all. That's because the bait and chum that anglers and deckhands are able to throw can't compete with the tons of sardines the yellowtail are pursuing, so they won't stay interested long.

Skippers wait several minutes for a ``biter'' and if a yellow doesn't show, it's off to the races and another flock of diving birds.

Hit and run isn't for everyone, but those who roll the dice often become committed to running its course.

``I would rather move around than sit there (anchored) and catch none,'' said Oxnard angler George Dickerson. ``There have been days where you moved around all morning (without luck) and finally caught limits in the afternoon. So that tactic does work.''

That yellowtail are even around and up on the surface is curious. ``If you notice up and down the coast, yellow counts are few and far between,'' Kelly said. ``I haven't seen yellows sometimes for five years, but the last three years have been unusually good.''

Yellowtail most often migrate to Southern California from Central Baja California in spring; most are caught here from June to September, the skipper said. When the water temperature drops to 58, they start finning back to Mexico - which usually takes place long before now. Last week's temperatures at Anacapa Island were 58 to 59; that's considered marginal for these sleek swimmers in the jack family, alternatively called mossbacks - for the greenish hue on their topsides - and forktails - for, you guessed it, their distinctive tails.

Presumably the propensity of prey - sardines and squid - and ``clean green'' water (yellows prefer good water clarity) have kept them around late into fall, but no one seems to know for certain. That they are swimming close to the surface is another plus for anglers who like to be on the move.

``Usually late-season yellows are oriented to a squid bed that is deep, where they are on one spot,'' said Kelly. If that were the case, he would have been compelled to anchor and have anglers drop bait to the bottom and wait for the yellows to pass through.

Happily that wasn't to be, for I'd much rather run than sit.

CAPTION(S):

2 photos

PHOTO (1 -- color) Woodland Hills schoolteacher Brent Simpson is all smiles following a speedy pursuit of a feisty yellowtail aboard the Island Tak at Anacapa Island.

(2) Wrestling yellowtail is far from guaranteed late in the season, but Brent Simpson, right, makes the most of his opportunity.

Brett Pauly/Staff Photographer