PADDLE ON; ALL SMILES AT KAYAK FISHING DERBY.

Byline: BRETT PAULY

Unfamiliar to the area, Bill Clarke tapped all his fishing instincts Saturday to get a better feel for the waters off the Malibu coastline.

He worked the kelp at first, but the current was so strong it held the stringers down, making it hard to determine where the fish would concentrate. The Northridge angler moved his craft closer to the rocks, to a likely holding spot for a hefty calico bass. Clarke chased the seabirds diving on baitfish - a sign of bigger fish to fry underneath.

All to no avail.

``I was pretty discouraged. I had a bad run of fishing luck for about a year,'' he said. ``I hadn't been able to put it together - the right place, the right lure, the right depth.''

That was all about to change. On this day, he connected.

Back in the kelp after the current calmed down, something bit hard and fast on the anchovy-pattern plastic lure at the end of his 15-pound line.

``At first it just stopped; I thought I was in the weeds,'' Clarke explained. ``But then it pulled extremely hard. I thought it was a white seabass, and it felt great. It headed toward the kelp stalk and just burrowed.''

From a party boat, there would have been a number of reasons this scenario might have ended with his fishing slump intact - other anglers breaking off his line; not having the right angle to free the fish. But this all happened to Clarke while he was trying to maintain his balance in, get this, a kayak.

``Suddenly you have the mobility that you don't have otherwise,'' Clarke said. ``Once the fish got wrapped up, I got straight over the kelp. I was able to get right on top of the fish.''

Five patient minutes later, a 7-pound calico was in Clarke's borrowed kayak. It was a first on a day of firsts.

His first big fish in a year on his first ocean-kayak fishing trip was plenty good enough for first place in the first Kayak Fishing Derby, being staged at Leo Carrillo State Beach. He earned a trophy, a photo opportunity and a look of wonder from his kids, ages 2 and 8, when he returned home with the finned prize.

In the tiny enclave of sea-kayak anglers, fishing derbies are rare. Such a competition is almost a slap in the face of what the sport represents to many - solitude, serenity, relaxation. So, it's not surprising that the big payoff Saturday was not a cash prize, but a handshake. The competition wasn't cutthroat, but more a gathering of the tribe, a chance to share stories, technique, phone numbers and promises of getting back on the water together, soon.

``I think the essence of the event was the camaraderie and the building of a network of people who can call each other,'' said derby coordinator Jerry Esten of Northridge, who earned his fishing celebrity manufacturing the Jerry Jig, a famous barracuda lure in the late 1950s.

You could certainly sense a closeness on the brine as the contest's 23 paddlers passed . . . well, I dare say, like kayaks in the day.

``It's so calm. It's like fishing on a lake,'' uttered Doug Kirk of Malibu.

``Wow, it's a pretty big lake,'' his kayak partner shot back, as a dolphin breached behind him.

With the swells picking up in late morning, paddlers Dena Oshann and Jon Lacourciere of La Mirada revealed that the recreation had a romantic side.

Married for a decade then divorced in 1989, the couple started dating again and took up kayaking and fishing. Saturday was their first time mixing the two activities. They plan to remarry next summer.

Oshann, who landed several fish, explained there is a sense of freedom on the water, perhaps compelling kayakers to share their emotions more readily. ``I think maybe because it's a sport that doesn't require a lot of competition, people are more open.''

George Sisino, an Agoura Hills plumber, was situated comfortably in a catamaran affair - the Cadillac of kayaks, if you will, equipped with a trolling motor, utility chest and a trove of gear. He asked my party of four kayakers how we were making bait. Gladly we demonstrated our tactic of catching smelt on skirted bait rigs and keeping them lively in submersible bait buckets.

He hardly needed the tip, as his trolled lures were producing plenty of bass.

He should have been telling us what to do, because our luck was limited. The problem was that the water was crawling with smelt, so much so that the target specimens must have been quite full, thank you. The current was fairly ripping, too, making it difficult to keep bait on the bottom. We did manage to boat several beefy calicos in the 4-pound range.

Sea-kayak anglers like Esten, who took up the sport in 1982, enjoy success fishing the middle ground - areas too close to shore for party boats and too far out for surf fishing.

``When I fished on party boats, I always considered the water between the beach and the kelp virgin territory,'' Esten said. ``With a kayak, you just slide into a place, drop a plastic or another lure and bang, you're hooked up; it's right now. It must be the stealth approach.''

Esten discovered from the turnout Saturday that ``there is a pent-up desire to kayak fish.''

He is compiling a loose-knit network of angling sea kayakers - ``no meetings, no rules'' - enabling paddlers to fish in a buddy system, not alone, for an added measure of safety and fellowship.

As for fishing derbies, there is room for more, Esten said. In fact, a tournament with higher stakes is slated for Oct. 25 at Sycamore Cove, west of Malibu.

``It's a growing sport, I'm convinced of that,'' Esten said. ``And someday there are going to be innovations that nobody can envision.''

CAPTION(S):

3 Photos

Photo: (1--color) It was a serene day on the water for entrants in the first-ever Kayak Fishing Derby. Keith Spicer, left, and Les Garling of Glenville try their luck on a tandem kayak.

Brett Pauly / Daily News

(2--color) Kayak Fishing Derby coordinator Jerry Esten, left, congratulates Bill Clarke for winning Saturday's contest with a 7-pound calico bass.

Gene Blevins / Special to the Daily News

(3--color) George Sisino of Agoura Hills enjoys the easy life aboard a catamaran kayak, equipped with a trolling motor and utility chest.

Brett Pauly / Daily News