The southern mud flats of Tomales Bay get relatively little attention from sea kayakers, so Susana Deustua and I put in during a flood tide from Teacher's Beach for an exploration. The wind that week had been very light, and we had warm muggy weather with overcast skies. I brought a rod and a mayo-jar of frozen anchovies.
A few hours after a minus one foot lowtide, the water depth varied between a few inches to a foot over a nearly weedless bottom that alternated between mud and sand; we had to get out and drag a few times. There was at least a mile of water that seemed to be accessible only by wading or paddling.
Lunch was atop a little pickleweed island. The rising tide inspired me to rig up and toss out an anchovy. Our quiet contempation of PB&J was abruptly interrupted by the sight of line peeling off the reel. I grabbed the rod, let the line pay out for a few more seconds, then yanked back hard to set the hook; a big leopard shark yanked back twice as hard and ripped off line for its first run.
A leopard shark isn't the bulldog battler like a striper, and it doesn't have the speed of a salmon. But in the shallows, leopards make surging 20 yard runs for deeper water, often breaking and slashing the surface of the water with their heads or tails at the end of a run. They're good for about half a dozen runs, and then can be netted, unhooked and released.
I passed the rod to Susana so I could take pictures and offer contradictory verbal advice.
"Keep the rod tip up! Reel! Stop reeling! He's going to spool you, run after him! Get back here! Reel him in closer! Not that close!"
Finally the shark pooped out, and Susana led it perfectly headfirst into the landing net I held. It seemed a major photographic opportunity was at hand (click on image to enlarge):
Me: "Hold the net up a bit so I can get both you and the shark in the frame!"
She: "Urrrggh!" (Shark goes nuts as she strains to lift the net) "I can't budge it!"
Me: "Well, stick your head down in the water next to the shark then..."
She: (gives me a look) "No way am I going to get my face whacked by that thing!"
I had to settle for wide angle shots.
We guessed the shark weighed maybe 25lbs. I extracted the barbless hook out of the corner of its mouth with my foreceps and gently slid it from the net. It swam off determinedly, probably wishing it had big teeth with which to bite annoying fisherpeople.
In the 60's there were leopard shark derbies in Tomales Bay to transplant large numbers of "pest" sharks from the Bay to the landfill. Now sport fishermen avidly seek them out; to protect the fishery, they are now classified as a game species with a 36" minimum size. My "Probably More Than You Want to Know About Pacific Coast Fish" by Dr. Milton Love states that leopard sharks don't reproduce until they are 3 - 3.5' long and 7 - 10yrs old. Unlike a striped bass that spawns thousands of eggs, a shark will give live birth to a only 4 - 33 young every year. And it's probably good karma for the kayaking fisherman to release sharks; it's not always clear who's the apex predator out there.
Text copyright © 1997 by Mike Chin.
On to next article