The Dogtown Dispatch: Issue #02

Tides lined up. The rest made you earn it.

We had those deep pre-dawn lows and a strong mid-morning push — the kind of movement that makes you rig up in the dark and walk the beach in silence. Both LA and Ventura had a pulse this week. You could feel it humming beneath your boots.

But it wasn’t simple.

The marine layer hung thick up north. Clarity shifted down south. Winds crept in. Junk water moved through. The fish showed — tails, shadows, subtle signs — but they made you work for every chance.

This was the kind of week that separates watchers from hunters. You had to slow down. Read the water. Move with purpose. Cast with intent.

No luck. No shortcuts. Just instinct, timing, and a little grit.

Let’s get into it.

Postcards from the Sand

Los Angeles: July 21-27, 2025

This week, the tides were right. Real right. This week gave us negative lows well before dawn — the kind that drain the beach and expose everything. Sandbars, troughs, movement. You could see the water breathing.

The push came quick. By mid-morning, the flood was on, and if you stuck around long enough, you watched the second swing top out near 7 feet late in the afternoon. Two tide cycles a day, both with promise. If you weren’t fishing, you were missing it.

Surf and swell conditions weren’t clean, but they weren’t a deal breaker either. Waist-high wash coming in, a little side drift — just enough to keep you on your toes. Water hung around 67°, and the fish were around. More this week than last.

Not in numbers you could brag about, but enough to keep you scanning. Enough to keep you on the dry sand and get hopes high.

It started with flashes. Backs barely breaking the surface. Fins rising in rhythm with the swell.

Not showy — just those subtle tells that flip a switch in your brain. The kind of sightings that make you forget what time it is. The kind that has you shoulder-deep in your sling before your feet even hit water.

But this week wasn’t generous. It asked for precision.

Low light made the early bite tricky. Your cast had to land soft, clean, right in the path — not ahead, not behind. Sometimes even shifting your angle a few degrees was the difference between a look and a spook.

I had six fish eat this week. Real eats. Flashed, tracked, committed. Six little heart attacks. And I went one for six. Stripped too hard. Pulled flies. Watched corbina fade like smoke. That’s the game.

They haunt you. You replay the eats in your head like slow-motion film. Every twitch. Every tail. Every blown shot.

That’s why we chase them. Because when it all lines up — tide, light, angle, heart rate — it’s like a drug. And when it doesn’t, you stew in it. Until the next tide tells you it’s time to try again.

Trey Finton & Bob Miyamoto patiently watching and waiting. Picking apart the movements in the surf.

Key Takeaways – Los Angeles Beaches

• Tides were ideal: Negative lows before sunrise with strong late-morning and afternoon highs.

• Water held steady around 67°F — warm enough to keep fish active throughout the week.

• Surf was fishable, but far from glassy — some side push and funky bump made things tricky.

• Fish showed up in better numbers: singles, small pods, and the occasional happy tail.

• Low light made for tough visuals, especially early in the session.

• Placement was everything: even subtle cast angle shifts made or broke your shot.

• Hookups were earned, not given — eat-to-land ratio stayed brutally honest.

Bottom Line

This was a week for the disciplined. The tides said “go,” but conditions made you slow down, watch closer, and dial in every move. The fish were there — just not waiting on you. If you weren’t locked in, you missed it. If you were… you might’ve walked away with one fish and a head full of what-ifs.

That’s the rhythm of the surf.

Ventura County: July 21-27, 2025

The bean bite up north is still playing hard to get — but if you cover enough sand, you’ll cross paths with a few ghosts.

Early mornings have been socked in under that thick marine layer — that dull, cold light that flattens everything and makes fish feel invisible. If you’ve got the patience, it’s been burning off by midday, but the best light's coming late.

The beach setups haven’t made anything easy. Most of the inside scalloped structure that held fish early in the week has now filled in. The troughs? Shallow. The windows? Tight. Early on, you’d catch fish staging up, sliding into crab beds with purpose. But as the week wore on, the pattern shifted — more up-and-back patrols, no clear triggers, just ghosts doing ghost things.

Even with mellow surf, visibility’s been a grind. Murky water, side junk, too much motion in the inside lanes. The kind of week where you’ve gotta rely on feel as much as sight. Eyes scanning for the softest tells — swirls, divots, nervous water, subtle v-wakes. It’s a game of inches, intuition, and stubborn belief.

Key Takeaways – Ventura Beaches

• See beyond the obvious. Backs and tails are rare right now — look for the clues hiding in the noise: shadows sliding, push water, subtle lifts in the current.

• The fall is your friend. The falling tide gave us the cleanest windows, but they didn’t last long. Be there early and be ready.

• Setup is everything. Right now, tide height, structure, and water quality are more critical than they’ve been all season. If it doesn’t line up, keep walking.

• Natural Surf’n Merkins are still producing, but a few attractors are getting love too. Don’t be afraid to mix it up.

• Mobility matters. If your stretch goes cold, move. The fish aren’t locked down — you shouldn’t be either.

Bottom line:

It’s not wide open, but it’s still worth it. Every shot is earned. Every follow feels like a win. And every hook-up? That’s church.

Looking Ahead

The week ahead brings more early morning lows — the kind of tides we wait for. If you can match that movement with the right beach structure, the fish will be around. Whether they decide to eat? That’s the game we all sign up for.

Forecasts are calling for mellow surf again, which is a double-edged sword. Easier wading, but it can flatten out the inside and fill in your favorite troughs. That means one thing: cover ground. Don’t get stuck. If the beach doesn’t look alive, keep walking. Somewhere down the line, there’s a zone that still breathes.

For those sight fishing late in the day, here's a simple tip: keep the sun at your back. It’s an old rule, but it still holds. It cuts glare, deepens your visual reach, and lets you track those ghosts just a little longer before they vanish into the dark water.

We’re heading into the heart of it now.Fish are in. Conditions are shifting.Stay sharp. Stay moving. See you on the sand.

— Dogtown Fly Co.