Laguna Niguel Lake: Big Pink in the O.C.

Nestled in the lee of Southern California’s rolling hills, tucked beneath a sprawl of stately homes and new condos lies a unique experiment that embodies the promise and challenges facing the future of urban fishing. Laguna Niguel Lake, in the heart of Orange County’s megatropolis sprawl, is a little lake with a big dream. 

The natural colors and topography of the regional park in which LNL rests provide a welcome relief to the endless neutral-toned neighborhoods and shopping centers surrounding it. At first glance, the lake looks like a normal municipal lake, home to the usual warm-water suspects: bass, catfish, crappie, bluegill. In the summer, that’s exactly what it is. But in winter…well, winter is a whole other story. Between November and April each year, LNL stocks nearly 50,000 lbs. of privately farmed rainbow trout. This number does NOT equate to 50,000 fish (i.e., one-pounders). Every other week, the lake gets reinfused with a few thousand pounds of pink-sided beauties that average 3-5 lbs and get up to 15-lb trophy fish. 

The equation seems simple: stock large, gorgeous fish in a privately run county-owned lake, sit back and watch the cash roll in. I’m sure Bobbie Mendoza, owner of the lake’s fishing operation, certainly wishes that were true, but her story and the lake’s have been nothing short of a rollercoaster ride. 

Beginning in 1994, Bobbie, her then-husband, and a few business partners set out to establish a premiere fishery (trout in the winter; bass, cats, et al. in the summer) in the heart of suburban Orange County. After several years, operations were going successfully enough for Bobbie and her husband to buy out the partners and maintain the fishery as a family-run business. Divorce resulted in Bobbie being the sole proprietor of the fishery, and the fishery being the sole source of income for Bobbie and her children. But, LNL weathered the transition, and Bobbie pushed on successfully. About three years ago, LNL was at the peak of its game. Huge, beautiful, aggressive, hook-jawed rainbows were arriving from Utah to stock the lake, clear water made small midge fly fishing unstoppable, and the lake was breeding a whole community of fly fishing enthusiasts. Then, our friendly state government decided to step in. 

While the fishery was growing, so were the planned suburban communities around the lake. Million-dollar homes now line the ridge, staring down upon the lake like gargoyles perched atop a castle wall. These expensive homes equal high tax revenue for the county and state. So, when homeowners complained about the lake’s aeration system being too noisy (the aerators were basically four jet engines mixing oxygen into the lake to meet state’s criteria for dissolved oxygen (DO) levels), the state wisely brought both sides to the table to arrange an agreeable compromise. Yeah, right. The government required Bobbie to remove the entire aeration system and put in a new system at her own expense, which of course led to more problems. The new system pumps air into the bottom of the lake, which is quiet, but as it bubbles to the surface it stirs up lake-bottom sediment. Water clarity took a nose dive. 

The poor visibility effectively killed small-bug nymph fishing on the lake. Now, the fish have to rely more on smell than sight to find a meal; fine for bait casters, but a major

setback for fly fishermen – unless you want to start rubbing garlic on your pheasant tails. 

And the state wasn’t done yet. For years, Bobbie had been trucking in unique rainbows from a farm in Utah. These fish were truly rare beauties because the owner of the farm had devised a miraculous method for sterilizing the trout without interfering with their spawning instinct and the physiological changes that accompany it. The result: aggressive fighting, beautifully colored ‘bows with the males sporting the distinctive hook jaws of wild fish. They were still the bread and butter of LNL….until the state decided to step in once again – this time for whirling disease. 

Whirling disease is a vicious parasite that attacks young trout, spreads easily, and can devastate an entire watershed or fishery. The parasite imbeds itself in the cartilage and bones of young fish before that cartilage hardens as the fish mature. Once infected, the parasite causes neurological damage and skeletal deformities (often causing the fish to swim in circles – whirl). Ninety percent of young fish die, and the few that survive to adulthood have significant skeletal deformation. Why then did the state decide to do tests on pristine adults caught in LNL? Why did they throw their test samples into a dirty slop bucket (not exactly sterile and scientific) for shipment upstate, where the samples were tested behind closed doors? Why wouldn’t the state trust Utah’s test results of the farm where the fish are raised? Why wasn’t there any sign of whirling disease among the juvenile fish at the farm? The state offered Bobbie no good answers to any of these questions, but they did have two things to say: we can’t double check the results because the tests are too expensive, and no more Utah hook jaws. Bobbie now stocks large, beautiful rainbows from a farm in Northern California, which are still thoroughly impressive fish, but to this day she speaks fondly and with deep nostalgia of her bygone beauties. 

Though the luster of Laguna Niguel Lake has diminished in recent years, the lake still offers the opportunity for a unique experience and the promise of big fish. Heck, in what other metropolis can you catch trout more reminiscent of Sitka than suburbia? But leave the little bugs at home; you’ll want a strong stick, sinking line, and big, bright streamers. If your family doesn’t share the same passion for fishing, that’s not a problem. The park surrounding LNL is a hub for family activities with popular walking trails, playgrounds, fields, and picnic areas. And of course the shopping centers around park offer countless retailers, restaurants, and movie theaters. 

Urban expansion has reached the point that fishable waters often require lengthy drives to the city’s distant outskirts. Aware of this trend, a regular suburban family set out to create a world-class fishery in the heart of SoCal’s urban sprawl. Through commitment and perseverance, they realized their vision, creating a mecca where wild-like trophy trout stalked the shallows, bending rods and blowing through backing. Despite meddling by the powers that be, Bobbie Mendoza and LNL have blazed a trail and shown the extraordinary potential for incorporating quality fishing back into the urban environment. 

Check out LNL at www.lagunaniguellake.com.