Sturgeon Time In Upper Suisun Bay   By: Cal Kellogg April 15, 2008 More Articles by Cal

Just after the sun had slipped below the horizon, a big coyote appeared on the levee silhouetted against the glow of the western sky. Sucking on the top of my hand I made a series of shrieks reminiscent of a mouse with his tail caught in a ringer. The sound had the desired effect. The coyote perked up its head and quickly trotted a few yards in our direction.

“Stop making that noise,” my wife Gena exclaimed. “You’re going to get him interested and he’s going to come out here and get us.” Gena’s voice must have carried pretty well, because the words were barely out of her mouth when the cunning dog swapped ends and disappeared.

Getting back to the business at hand, I went about inflating the air mattress, unrolling the sleeping bag and preparing the lantern as Gena watched the rods. The date was Sunday, March 9 and we were anchored over a 45 foot deep hole in a slough that emanates from the upper reaches of Suisun Bay. As I motored into the hole an hour earlier several large arches appeared on the screen of my Hummingbird sonar unit and the colossal splashes of big jumpers that we occasional saw and heard, confirmed that the arches were indeed sturgeon!

With the Willie Predator prepared for the rapidly approaching darkness, I joined Gena back at the stern where our three rods sat in my Fish Hookers balancers waiting for action. The rod on the starboard side was baited with lamprey eel. The middle rod offered a combination plate of ghost shrimp and pile worms, while the rod on the portside sported a filleted shad.

Not only would the shad be attractive to sturgeon, but it would also grab the attention of any passing stripers as well. All of the rigs were equipped with E-Chips to take advantage of the ability sturgeon and stripers have to pick up weak electrical currents.

As soon as it got dark the temperature dropped, so I fired up our propane heater and Gena got out some bagels for sandwiches. As Gena broke out the turkey and cheese, I busied myself impaling the bagels on a long fillet knife and toasting them in front of the heater. Gena’s bagels were toasted and I was starting to work on my own when something picked up the shad and line started playing off the reel against the resistance of the clicker.

I grabbed the rod, took off the clicker, counted to ten as I lightly thumbed the spool and drove the hook home. After a short tussle I brought in the first fish of the trip, a 21 inch striper destined to end up as fish tacos, into the boat.

For the next couple hours we had enough action to keep things interesting. We missed a good opportunity when the rod baited with eel pumped hard and we caught a good size starry flounder that found the ghost shrimp and pile worms just too good to pass up.

Finally around 11p.m. the eel rod pumped to life again and this time I was ready. The rod pumped down and started back up when I gently lifted it from the balancer. Standing statue still I waited for the next pull with as surge of adrenaline coursing through my body. As soon as I felt the line tighten and the rod tip start to load I reared back on the rod and met with solid weight.

For a moment frozen in time, the Fenwick rod was held in a deep bend and then everything went limp. The hook had pulled out! For me sturgeon bites are usually hard to come by and I was certain I’d blown my chance for a fish by setting the hook too soon. Little did I know that the excitement was just getting started.

Soon after I lost the fish Gena turned in for the night, but I stayed up, intently watching my two rods through the end of the out going tide and the beginning of the incoming. With a full day of fishing slated for Monday and my eyes at half mast, I put the rods into free spool with the clickers on and went to bed a little before 2 o’clock.

Now, Gena tells me that I snore, but since I’ve never been woken up by the sound of snoring, I pretty sure it isn’t true…Anyhow around 4:30 Gena woke me up and told me to get out of bed and start fishing or she’d throw me overboard to stop the snoring!

I was glad she woke me up. I was feeling refreshed after the catnap, so I check my baits, freshened things up with a little Pro-Cure Super Gel, cracked open a soda and got ready for action. I don’t think I’d waited 15 minutes when the eel rod once again dipped down in the balancer.

Picking up the rod, I was determined to make sure that the fish had the bait well into its mouth before making my move. Using all the patience I could muster I held the hookset until I felt substantial weight.

At the sting of the hook the fish came up in the water column and ran straight at me, but thanks to the speedy gear ratio of the Abu Garcia Big Game reel I had no problem keep slack out of the line. The fish was nearly to the boat when it turned away. Line started to peel off the reel and then the fish was gone.

Reeling in, I thought that for the second time the hook had come out, but when I got the rig in I found that the 80 pound monofilament leader had parted. The line I used for the leader was new. It must have either bee nicked in the dark or it rubbed against the sturgeon’s scutes at just the wrong angle and was cut. Either way I’d lost my second fish of the night and I was beginning to catch the smell of a skunk.

After putting a new leader on my heavy rod, I baited it with eel and tossed it out. Since all of the sturgeon action had come on eel, I reeled up the striper rod, armed it with a shorter leader, adorned it with a piece of eel and pitched it out behind the boat.

Sunrise came and went without incident. Around 7 a.m. Gena woke up and asked if I was going to make coffee. I never answered her, because right at that moment my light Lamiglas striper rod pumped down and stayed down. When I picked it up it was clear the fish had the bait in its mouth, so I set the hook with authority. I was firmly hooked up for the third time. I only hoped that the third time would be a charm.

At first the fish didn’t seem to know that it was hooked and swam back and forth lazily behind the boat. It tangled the line on my heavy rod, but I quickly remedied that problem by cutting the heavy rod’s line with the bait knife. The fish had been on the hook for a couple minutes before it really came to life and bolted away, but when it did the results were impressive. The rod was bent to the limit and braid disappeared off the reel quickly.

On that first run the diamondback, aided by the current, took about 50 yards of line. After making the run, the fish settled down again, but I knew the fight was far from over. Gradually I worked the fish back nearly to the boat, but it refused to come more than a few feet off the bottom.

For long minutes it was a stalemate with the fish swimming back and forth across the transom and up and down both sides of the boat. Every time I moved the fish off the bottom it answered by surging back down and away from the boat.

Finally, after a good 15 minute of give and take the sturgeon headed for the surface and blew bubbles off the starboard side. The bubbles told me the fight was nearing its end. The first time the diamondback broke the surface of the water it made a wild tail thrashing bolt that baptized me with at least a quart of brown water. The next time the fish came to the surface it was much better behaved and with Gena’s help I was able to maneuver the snare over the rod, down the line and around my prize.

With the fish safely in the boat, a quick measurement revealed that it was 60.5 inches long. After placing a tag on the sturgeon’s tail it registered 51 pounds on my digital scale. Tired, hungry and with a big, beautiful sturgeon for the freezer we stowed our gear and headed for the ramp. Gena and I have experienced some great adventures out on the water, but this trip just might be the most memorable of all.

If you’d like to get in on some of the delta’s great sturgeon fishing get your gear ready and get out on the water. The best action of the spring season is right around the corner.