Punching through Cape Kiwanda surf with a seasoned captain, a hefty catch and century-old dory culture

written by Cathy Carroll

In the faint light just after dawn in the Pelican Brewing Company parking lot in Pacific City, Captain Joe Hay stood at the stern of his trailered dory boat, primed to launch straight from the beach through the surf of Cape Kiwanda—a tradition among local fishers since the early 1900s. With the dry humor of someone who’s spent thirty years plying the waters for its bounty, Hay, in pink Chubbies swim trunks but visible only from the waist up, quipped: “I guess you’re wondering why I’m not wearing pants—my wife wears them, and she’s home in bed.”

This was just what a neophyte wearing an anti-seasickness patch behind an ear needed to hear. “She’s a smart woman,” I replied, feeling less nervous. I climbed aboard.

The crew towed the open-hulled, 22-foot-long flat-bottomed dory onto the soft sand and into the waist-deep water. With the bow of the Haystack IV pointed into the waves, Hay hit the motor and pressed play on the music, launching the craft over frothy white breakers as “The Ride of the Valkyries” boomed from the boat’s speakers.

Within minutes, we were parallel to Haystack Rock, the iconic, 327-foot-tall sea stack that dominates the view from Cape Kiwanda. As the monolith revealed a close-up of its north side, the sun peeked over the cape’s sandstone headland, and Hay switched the soundtrack to Bob Marley. He and his longtime friend, a retired charter airline pilot and Hay’s helper today, equipped the three passengers with baited rods and wisdom for enticing aquatic creatures to breakfast.

“Let it hit bottom, then slowly turn the reel three times,” they instructed. Soon, the pull came on the line. The rod’s tip bent with force, striking an instant connection with the dark, hidden world beneath the surface.

Reeling in a 2-foot-long lingcod revealed the primeval looks of the Ophiodon elongatus, its mottled khaki green- and-brown-patterned skin, like Desert Storm camouflage, surrounded bulging, pupilless eyes and Mick Jagger lips over eighteen jagged teeth. (Ophiodon, meaning “snake-toothed” in Greek, can grow to 5 feet in length.)

“That will be great for fish-and-chips,” said my husband, a chef. He hoisted in rockfish, sometimes three at a time: canary fish, copper rock and black bass, glistening in the morning sun.

Hay glanced at the screen of his fish finder, detecting schools lurking in the depths, and sped to them. Like the gentle surf, my emotions rose and fell—the thrill of getting a bite and the prey getting away. We headed to the crab pots that Hay had set the day prior, each one loaded with dozens of tan and deep purple Dungeness, clawing frenetically and measuring big enough to keep.

Plying water as blue as the cloudless sky, we cruised past three sea lions, lounging on buoys like drunk, sunburned uncles. A black, sickle-shaped orca fin sliced through the surface yards away. Hay powered the dory toward shore.

Anyone who’s visited Cape Kiwanda has likely seen dory boats zooming toward the beach, air horns blaring warnings to surfers, swimmers and beach strollers to stay clear of the dramatic, high-speed landing. The hoopla suggests a rough reentry, but we shot smoothly onto the sand.

On each trip, Hay brings the day’s catch back to his house, about a six-minute drive from the beach, where he meticulously cleans, fillets and vacuum packs the fish for you to bring home in your cooler. But there’s instant gratification, too. Hay steams the crabs in seawater, locking the flavor into the tender meat. Bald eagles circled above his back lawn along the Nestucca River, where we cracked open the crustaceans, savoring the delicate flesh, sweet and rich—perfect without a single adornment.

Soothing ocean breezes and stellar views of Haystack Rock continued at Headlands Coastal Lodge & Spa, a resort just off the beach, with an aesthetic firmly grounded in the beauty, bounty and adventures of Cape Kiwanda. Seemingly each window frames picturesque beach scenes—the monolith, the hypnotic, rolling sea and soothing, vast sky. At Meridian Restaurant & Bar, table-to-ceiling windows open accordion-style, creating a stylish perch for an elevated panorama of the Pacific.

We savored dishes with locally sourced ingredients such as lingcod puttanesca with fresh pasta, San Marzano tomatoes, olives, anchovies, capers and basil and Pacific salmon with beurre blanc, quinoa vegetable salad and trout roe.

Afterward, fellow guests warmed themselves beside bonfires, indulged in spa treatments and soaked in the outdoor hot tub overlooking the beach to watch the sunset. I headed to my room, wrapping myself in a cozy robe and taking to the balcony to watch the stars. Even this dory boat neophyte will be dreaming of the next launch.

LEARN MORE

Ready to plan your adventure? Head to www.haystackfishing.com and www.headlandslodge.com to learn more.