The Editor’s Note

The editor hadn’t returned to famed saltwater fishing hot spot Pacifica Pier in a long time, but it stoked some memories. (CHRIS COCOLES)

henever I visit the Bay Area,

Wit never seems like I have enough time to return to some of the places that trigger memories from my childhood.

Sure, a lot of those have been revisited with great nostalgia. I walked my dog through the city park and I ate a sandwich on benches overlooking the baseball diamond, where as a pudgy 10-year-old right fielder/first baseman/catcher I hit a grand slam and was mobbed by teammates at home plate. There’s the deli near my dad’s house where a Sunday trip for a big sandwich to eat while watching football was considered a great weekend treat.

Still, there’s so much else out there that I can’t go back to because they’re long gone: a hot dog shop those same friends and I would stop in for a kosher dog and a Polish sausage; the grocery store I had a job at just before going away to college and a place where coworkers and I worked and played hard together; the Denny’s 24-hour coffee shop friends and I would stop at for a late-night snack after hanging out. I’ll never get to experience those venues again.

And that’s what made a recent trip to Northern California so special. I had some time to kill before my flight back home, so my sister and I took a drive from her San Mateo house to the coast. Specifically, we were bound for one of the Bay Area’s – if not the state’s – most prized fishing spots.

Pacifica Municipal Pier – its official name is The Rev. Herschell Harkins Memorial Pier – was constructed in 1973 and has been a go-to spot for anglers and crabbers ever since. And while I’ve driven by Pacifica Pier countless times over the years, it’s been decades since I walked across it and got a glimpse of the action.

If it swims in the waters off the San Mateo County coast, chances are one of the pier’s grizzled veterans has pulled it from the ocean. In the summer, when fall-run salmon are preparing to enter the rivers for spawning, savvy anglers can pull up a Chinook. It’s a crabber’s paradise, and stripers, surfperch, thresher sharks and more will bite your bait here. Plus you don’t even need a fishing license to wet a line (daily limit, size, season and other rules still apply).

I’ve always been more of a freshwater fishing fan, but I do remember trips to the pier. Back then, you’d often have to squeeze in between fishing rods. It was combat fishing with at times heavy winds and surf slamming into the shore (storm

On this winter early afternoon, the pier had plenty of open space, but when the conditions are right the place is jam-packed with anglers. (CHRIS COCOLES)

There are some places you never forget from your younger fishing days. This pier is one of them. (CHRIS COCOLES) This is also a popular destination for

crabbers. (CHRIS COCOLES)

damage closed the pier briefly early in 2021). But it was a blast.

We’d gather whatever saltwater gear we had in the garage, tie on giant sinkers and cast them out into the surf, then use a sliding swivel rig with some anchovies or other cutbait and hope for a bite. But with so many others fishing the same spot, catching fish was as challenging as staying warm on the usually fog-blanketed coast.

On this early afternoon with my sister, the waves were strong, but the wind wasn’t bad and there was actually some sunshine breaking through the clouds. It wasn’t a busy day along the 1,140-foot pier, but it was great to just walk through two sets of anglers in the shallow end – not far from the beach – where many were hoping to pull in a few crabs. And then near the end of the L-shaped pier was another cluster of rods and their owners, most fishing with heavier tackle in hopes of catching something bigger.

I could tell many of these folks were old-timers who have been doing this for years. As I walked back down the pier to meet my sister so we could head down to Half Moon Bay to get some lunch before heading to the airport, I wondered where all these years have gone. But for a split second I was a young adult again, fishing elbow to elbow with so many others.

I guess next time I’ll look for another hot dog stand to pick up a frankfurter. Pass the mustard. -Chris Cocoles