Long before my obsession with saltwater fishing manifested, I was terminally passionate about surfing. In fact, I’ve always considered kayak fishing to be the perfect “melding” of these two great lifetime passions. Understanding weather and swell conditions, bottom structure, nearshore currents and seasonal progressions equally factor into both pursuits.

Fishing and surfing have taken me on epic adventures in remote locations to challenge the unknown and to attain lofty goals. Rocketing down the face of a triple-overhead Steamer Lane winter wave in Santa Cruz creates a similar adrenaline rush as feeling a 450-pound Salmon Shark burning line off an Avet 50 tuna reel in Prince William Sound, Alaska.

Each of us has at least one fishing mentor, or surfing sage. My surfing “Moodoggie” was a fellow named Richie Dwyer, who developed a lifestyle that included daily surfing assisted by no formal employment. One evening, while discussing “The seldom surfed wave of Mesa Street” in Santa Barbara, CA, Richie quipped, “Every surfer needs a wave at the end of the street.”

That is the spot that you surf every day. The place where YOU are the “local.” The waves may not have the best shape, and might not provide a rush like the spot 10 miles away that gets pictures in the magazines, but it’s consistent, fun and gives you what you need. It is yours.

I’ve played with this concept in terms of kayak fishing as well. Yes, I love exotic travel, and yes I love the catching elusive trophy species, and yes I still want to go bigger, harder and faster. But, really, most of my fishing really is somewhat pedestrian. It’s just part of my life to get out on the ocean, get some exercise, relax, and catch a few fish for dinner. If I’m lucky, I might even catch enough to share with the next-door-neighbor. That’s why I started kayak fishing, to get out at the spot at the end of the street, catch some dinner, have some fun and decompress at the same time.

Call it “Bread and Butter” fishing. Nothing fancy. Just catching what I fish for most often and with the greatest chance of success. In my hometown of Santa Cruz, CA, my Bread and Butter fish are reef-dwelling rockfish. Easy to catch and plentiful on our local reefs, rockfish provide nice filets of flaky white meat that lend themselves to a variety of dinner preparations. Using light gear keeps the catching fun, and there is always the chance of a big one up to 9-10 pounds that can challenge the gear. Two or three hours on the water is usually sufficient to fill the stringer then return home re-salinated and endorphined and with dinner to boot.

For this issue of Kayak Fishing Magazine, we’ve asked a few of our fellow kayak anglers from around the world about their most common piscatorial prey. In response, we’ve learned quite a bit about fishing in locations and for species that, to us, are quite exotic. For those locals, though, these are their fish at the end of the street, their “Bread and Butter. “