Long nights, warm water, and a little luck off Catalina Island.
Southern California has an annual opener that inspires madness and optimism in equal measure. Not unlike most fishing openers, really.
The one major difference? This one happens largely in the dark.
We're talking about California spiny lobster season.
Opening night brings the usual crowds and chaos, with divers and hoop netters eager to get on the water. And because lobster tend to concentrate around specific rocky structures, there's often a lot of competition for relatively small areas.
It's an adventure, to say the least.
A Good Dive Partner Makes All the Difference
A good friend of mine, Ryan, taught me to freedive about 20 years ago. I haven't progressed much since then, but I've become comfortable enough to hold my own.
Ryan, on the other hand, is in another league.
He's an accomplished spearfisherman with an almost encyclopedic knowledge of our local waters. He knows the reefs, rocks, and underwater structures, practically stone by stone. When you have someone like that on your boat, you know that if something can be done, he'll find a way to get it done.
And of course, there's the added pressure of bringing home enough lobster for Thanksgiving dinner.
As my wife likes to joke when I'm packing for these trips, Thanksgiving dinner is riding on the outcome.
No pressure.
Skipping the Crowds and Heading for Catalina
Rather than join the opening-weekend madness, we decided to wait until a weeknight after the opener and head to Santa Catalina Island.
We left the harbor at 5 AM with an ambitious plan: dive our way across the channel, explore as many promising spots as possible, and put in roughly 30 hours of diving and travel over the next day or so.
Rest wasn't going to be much of a priority.
Our first stops were the local offshore rigs, where we hoped to find wahoo. El Niño conditions had brought a few into the area, including sightings just a few miles south of the harbor.
From there, we worked our way toward Catalina, stopping to spearfish along the route.
Between Long Beach and Church Rock, we spotted yellowtail, skipjack, and bonito. With little current to stir up activity, the fish stayed deep or in spots that made them difficult to reach.
That's fishing. You can have all the right plans, equipment, and experience, and the ocean still gets the final say.
As we worked our way around the island, we managed to pull a few lobsters from their holes during daylight, getting an early start toward our first day's limit.
Eventually, we made our way to Avalon on Catalina Island and secured a mooring.
It was time to refuel, recharge, and get ready for the real work.
Dinner, a Hot Shower, and a Little Perspective
We headed to the Lobster Trap in Avalon for dinner, where we ate with purpose. No cocktails, no lingering. Just a good meal and plenty of ice water.
We also opted for a hotel room rather than sleeping aboard the boat.
Hot showers and a comfortable bed sounded pretty appealing, and age has a funny way of changing what you consider a luxury. A few years earlier, we might have called that soft.
Now? It just sounded like good planning.
We were in bed by 6:30 PM, grabbed some sleep, and headed back out after sunset for our first night dive.
Warm Water, Dark Rocks, and a Rare Break from the Cold
El Niño can bring plenty of changes to Southern California waters. Some are welcome, others not so much.
This time, El Niño worked in our favor.
Air temperatures hovered around 80 degrees through the night, and the water was a remarkable 73 degrees.
For anyone unfamiliar with Southern California lobster diving, that's a gift.
Much of lobster season takes place during the colder months, when water temperatures can drop into the low 50s and the air isn't much warmer. You're working in the dark, moving from rock to rock, and spending hours in conditions that can be downright miserable.
Cold hands, tired legs, and the occasional question about why you thought this was a good idea in the first place.
This trip was different.
Warm water, comfortable air, and excellent conditions made the work a whole lot more enjoyable.
The Midnight Push
We worked our way along the front side of Catalina, checking rocky structure and pulling lobster from their hiding places.
It's methodical work. You move from rock to rock, search the cracks and crevices, and rely on experience, patience, and a little luck.
And on this night, things were going our way.
By about 11 PM, we'd finished our first day's limits.
California's recreational spiny lobster daily bag limit is seven legal-sized lobsters per person. The midnight changeover created an opportunity to continue fishing into the next calendar day, subject to the applicable possession and reporting rules.
We waited until midnight, completed the necessary lobster report card entries, and got back to work.
By 1:30 AM, we'd finished the second round.
Not a bad effort.
Tiring? Absolutely.
Satisfying? Absolutely.
Sometimes the Ocean Pays You Back
The funny thing about lobster diving is that it rarely goes this smoothly.
More often, you're exhausted, cold, frustrated, and wondering whether the next rock will be any more productive than the last twenty.
It can be as much a mental challenge as a physical one.
But that's part of pursuing wild things in wild places.
We tend to remember the wins. The difficult trips, the cold nights, and the days when nothing goes right eventually fade into stories about dues paid.
And every once in a while, those dues pay off.
This was one of those nights.
A Perfect Catalina Morning
We headed back toward Avalon and were treated to a beautiful moonrise over the mainland.
It was one of those moments that most people were either asleep for or simply weren't in the right place to see.
We stumbled back to the hotel, took hot showers, and fell into a deep sleep almost immediately.
By 10 AM, we were moving again.
A stop at the Pancake Cottage provided a much-needed breakfast before we checked a few final spots on our way home.
Nothing.
And for once, nobody was particularly disappointed.
The ride back across the channel was about as good as it gets. Flat, slick water and a comfortable 25-knot run.
Later that evening, the weather pattern fell apart, and our usual northwest winds returned. The kind of conditions that can turn a pleasant channel crossing into a long, uncomfortable ride.
Southern California occasionally gives us these incredible fall weather windows. Warm air, calm seas, and water so smooth you can run as fast as you please.
They never last long enough.
But when you catch one, you appreciate it.
The Kind of Trip That Keeps You Coming Back
Looking back, we were fortunate in more ways than one.
The island treated us well. The boat ran perfectly. Nothing was lost, nobody got hurt, and the diving was productive.
That's a successful trip by just about any measure.
And even better, my wife got her Thanksgiving lobster. Although I suspect I've just raised expectations for Christmas.