An Ocean Apart : Kids Fishing Trip Provides Chance to Escape Into a New World of Fun--and Self-Fulfillment

Sirron was 16 and had never caught a fish. Probably never would, as far as he was concerned.

“I don’t know how to fish,” he said. “I don’t think I’m going to catch a fish.”

How many youngsters, among the disadvantaged 10,000 to 12,000 the Los Angeles Rod & Reel Club has taken fishing, felt the same way? How is a kid ever going to catch a fish if he keeps thinking like a loser all his life?

The LARRC has been meeting that challenge with its annual Kids Fishing Trip for 42 years. The only difference Monday was more kids--up to 465 from about 300 in recent years. The LARRC absorbed many of those who would have been shut out since the L.A. County Fish and Game Commission curtailed a similar program because of budget cutbacks this year.

Most had never been fishing. Many had never been on a boat. Some hadn’t even been in trouble.

Some, ages 8 to 18, came from inner-city boys’ and girls’ clubs that nowadays serve as sanctuaries.

Lisa Overson, in charge of the LAPD’s Rampart Division Explorers, said, “We have kids whose whole lives are trying to keep from getting jumped on by gangs. It gives them a day out of the area to explore something else. When they get a bite on the hook, you see their faces transformed.”

The others came from more than a dozen institutions and programs for youngsters handed off from courts and probation departments, from Orange County to San Luis Obispo to Bakersfield--you know, the ones who sprayed your fence with graffiti, stole your kid’s bike and littered your street. Or worse.

“Not bad kids,” said Peter Smith, a counselor at the Optimist Boys Home in Highland Park, “just kids who got into trouble.”

Some of the counselors brought their own kids. “Good” kids. Once they all started fishing, it was hard to tell the difference.

More than 50 LARRC members participated. Some were up at 4 a.m. to get everything ready, remaining until 6 p.m., when the last kids left.

Promising an unlimited supply of free hot dogs, hamburgers and doughnuts, they chartered the Billy V and ferried the youngsters out of Ports O’ Call Village in San Pedro to the Annie B barge in the Los Angeles outer harbor. There they baited the kids’ hooks, showed them what to do, untangled their lines and shared their joy. Afterward they gave them bags with caps, T-shirts and watches.

Free food was the bait, but fishing was the hook. Jonathan, 16, from Pacific Lodge Boys Home in Woodland Hills, knew the truth as he waited with three friends for the boat to leave.

“I want these guys to find out for themselves,” he said. “I think they’re just looking forward to all they can eat.”

The outing is a special treat for all of the youngsters, but perhaps most of all for those from Pacific Lodge, who get a trip pass home once a month. If they have a home.

“They’re in for drugs--either selling or doing drugs--or for poor social skills,” said Maureen Bond of Pacific Lodge. “Grand-theft auto, sex offenders. (There are) a lot of gang affiliations. We have 99% probation kids.”

There are stereotypes, but they aren’t ethnic. Bond says her group is equally split among blacks, Latinos and whites. The common denominator, she said, is that “99% come from dysfunctional families.”

Smith put it another way: “Most of these kids come out of alcoholic families.”

Hard cases? Sirron was difficult. An hour had gone by and he still hadn’t caught a fish. A club member asked if he wanted something to eat.

“I’m too excited to eat,” he said, grimly heading for the bait tank to get a fresh, wiggling anchovy. “I want to catch a fish.”

Bond, director of therapeutic recreation at Pacific Lodge, said, “Doing drugs, drive-by shootings and gang writing (has been) their recreation. We try to give them positive things to work on . . . get into hobbies, sports and activities and to socialize properly.”

Otto Painter, 83, is an LARRC member who has been doing the trips from the start. He recalled a hard case from 15 or 20 years ago--a fatherless 8-year-old named Michael.

“I went up to him and said I would like to help him,” Painter said. “He said, ‘Whitey, I don’t need your help.’ He didn’t trust any white person.

“He saw a bunch of prizes lying nearby and said, ‘What are those for?’ I said, ‘This is what we’re going to give you when you get off the boat.’ And he said, ‘Whitey, you never gave me nothing.’

“I looked at him and said to myself, ‘By the time you get off this boat, I’m going to make you love me.’

“So, I worked with this kid, and he caught fish, and as we were leaving, this arrogant kid who didn’t have a father came up to me and grabbed me around the leg and said, ‘I wish you were my father.’ ”

Some years later, Painter learned that the youngster had become a Marine.

Can fishing turn a life around? Chuck Mosley has been bringing kids from Vista Del Mar Child Care Services in Culver City to the LARRC outings for 29 years.

“Kids never forget this,” he said. “It has made a difference in their lives. I’ve seen them on Alumni Day. They’re grown and have kids and they still talk about this trip. Things like this can make a difference.”

The benefits, Bond said, are “self-esteem, self-confidence, learning a new skill. It’s getting them excited about something.”

Most of the kids pounced on the free lunch first, but it wasn’t long before the galley was empty and the rails were full of anglers. Burgers went begging, despite repeated offers over the public address system.

Smith said, “We had one kid that really got hooked on this. He got his own fishing tackle and he’d take the bus down to Redondo to fish. If you can get them into a job or a hobby, it’ll keep ‘em out of those gangs. It shows them that there is an alternative.”

There were trophies for the largest and second-largest fish, the most fish and the ugliest fish. Several kids caught halibut large enough--a legal 22 inches--to keep.

Anthony, a stocky 18-year-old, spoke of discovering a new world: “This was something I never did.”

He and Mark, 17, had never even been on a boat. Mark might write about it. He wants to be a writer.

Jonathan might not have much time for fishing for a while. He will begin classes at Pierce College next week. He wants to be an architect.

Sirron was struggling. Other kids--little kids--around him were catching fish, but his line refused to twitch.

Andy Nation, a counselor, said Sirron arrived at the Optimist Home around Thanksgiving last year and hasn’t gotten out much because “he doesn’t have anybody to visit.”

Larry Edwards, an LARRC member who runs a charter fishing service in San Diego, went over to help Sirron. About two minutes later, the youth had a green mackerel on his line.

“I caught one!” he exclaimed, beaming as his rod bent, and then repeated softly, after he swung the fish aboard and his accomplishment sunk in, “ I caught one.”

Despite donations of food, the outing costs the LARRC more than $10,000 a year. Club President Allan Mannheim said the group would like to increase the participation to 600 next year, if it can afford it. Co-Chairman Bill Adams said 847 kids wanted to go this year, so the counselors had to limit it to the ones who were on their best behavior.

On the way back to the dock, the boat passed the federal prison on Terminal Island.

Smith said: “That’s one place we’re trying to keep them out of. One of our kids’ father was in there.”

Beyond the homes, the next fall is into the California Youth Authority system--a grim prospect with a dead end, Smith fears.

“If they get that far,” he said, “we’ve lost them.”

Fishing seems worth a try.