It started with a text from my buddy Mike: "Dude, we need to hit Cali. Halibut are biting off the beach. Let’s make it happen."
Now, I’m a Florida guy, used to warm waters and mahi runs. But the idea of chasing halibut from the surf sounded like the perfect mix of adventure and frustration. I booked the flight, packed my gear, and mentally prepared for battle.
Arrival: Sand, Surf, and Delusions of Grandeur
I landed in San Diego, ready to conquer the Pacific. The first thing I noticed. The beaches. Perfectly sculpted waves, cool breeze, and locals casually shredding.
We hit the tackle shop, where the guy behind the counter sized me up instantly. “First time surf fishing for hali?" he asked, smirking. “Can you tell?" I asked, Feeling like a googan.
He handed me a few Lucky Craft Flash Minnows and muttered, "Work the troughs. Slow retrieve. Don’t cry if you lose one."
The Hunt Begins
We hit the beach at sunrise. It was beautiful, except for one minor detail—I couldn't feel my toes. Pacific water is cold, like "Did I just step into a cooler?" cold. But halibut were waiting, so I toughed it out.
I cast my first line, letting the lure settle near the bottom. Slow retrieve, just like the guy said. Nothing. Cast two, three, four… still nothing.
Meanwhile, Mike, standing 20 feet away, suddenly yelled, "Fish on!" Of course. He was battling something decent, and I was reeling in disappointment.
Victory… Almost
Finally, I felt it. That thump everyone talks about. Like someone flicking the rod tip, just enough to make you doubt your sanity. I paused, heart racing. The rod bent, and I set the hook like I was trying to pull Excalibur from the stone.
Boom! The fight was on. The fish bulldogged toward the bottom, and I realized halibut don’t fight hard—they fight smart. Every time I gained line, it slid right back out.
Mike was yelling at me like I was in a boxing match. "Keep the pressure! Don’t look at the wave—LOOK AT THE FISH!" And there it was—a broad, flat, spotted slab of pure satisfaction. Mike said it was one of the largest he had ever seen. The halibut of my dreams. I was already planning the Instagram post.
The Escape
I dragged it into the wash, adrenaline pumping. But in my excitement, I forgot one crucial rule: Never trust a halibut on wet sand.
That fish thrashed like it had Red Bull running through its gills, flopped once, twice… and slid right back into the surf.
I stood there, soaked, defeated, and oddly impressed. Mike, ever the supportive friend, was doubled over laughing.
Lessons Learned (and Laughs Had)
So, what did I learn from my California halibut adventure?
Fish the structure: Halibut love sandy troughs near the Surfline. Look for darker water between sandbars.
Slow and steady: Work your lure just above the bottom. If you think you’re retrieving slowly, go slower.
Mind the surf: That wash zone isn’t just for rinsing your feet. It’s where dreams slip away—literally.
Bring backup pride: Because when your halibut escapes, you'll need something to hold onto.
Did I become a California surf fishing legend? Not exactly. But I did walk away with a sunburn, a funny story, and a newfound respect for the sneakiest flatfish in the Pacific.
And next time? That halibuts' mine.
Tight lines and humbled egos, Capt. Brad from Just Right Florida Charters
P.S. check out https://surffishingsocalsd.com/ for some inside tips.