Richard F. Helgren, for decades the owner of Helgren's Sportfishing in Oceanside, died Tuesday, December 29, a day less than two weeks after he was badly injured in an auto accident.

Dick, 75, was the best-known sport fishing figure in North County. His love was fishing aboard his premier boat, the Oceanside 95. He is survived by his immediate family members: wife Caroline, son Joey and daughters Jane and Cindy.

Son Joey wrote on caringbridge.org: "This afternoon approximately 3:30 pm Dad started on the longest trip of his life, probably the smoothest ocean he will ever be on. He went with love and many prayers to guide him to his final sail. He left on his final long range trip, tanks are full, the moon is rising up over the ocean and the motors are running strong and steady, the boat is leaving the harbor."

Daughter Janie wrote: "We were with Dad until the end. He passed very peacefully and we are happy he is no longer in pain or suffering from all his injuries. We plan on having Dad cremated and scattering his ashes at sea. There are no details yet, I will post more as soon as I know more. Thank you everyone for your moral support, prayers, and kind words to Dad and the family. Dad is feeling much better now."

North San Diego County beckoned to me the first time I saw it. I moved here in 1977, and shortly after I met Richard Helgren, owner of Helgren's Sportfishing in Oceanside. I told him I was a writer, and wanted to do some work on fishing. Dick didn't know me from Adam, but he offered me a ride on his Oceanside 95. It was the first of many outings with Helgren. He later referred me to Tim Voaklander on the Dolphin, and my career as a SoCal fishing writer was launched.

We made many trips to San Clemente Island, where I learned just how persnickety yellowtail could be. One day we pursued big schools of surfaced fish all along the length of the big island, without ever drawing a strike. On another yellowtail day there, Dick taught me the value of putting a small sinker on a flylined bait. I got a limit that day while others struggled to get a couple of fish.

The day I remember best was a late afternoon coming home from the island. Dick saw some fish up ahead of us when we were only five miles out of the harbor.

"Probably skipjack," he told us over the PA system. "But let's take a look at ???em, anyway."

The fish were yellowfin, 30 to 50-pounders, and we caught them for the better part of an hour, until it got dark. Helgren chummed the tuna lightly, just enough to keep them interested, and everybody got fish. I had the best day on tuna of my life to that point. Then Dick took us into the harbor and we offloaded our full sacks in the glory of the dock lights.

Dick Helgren was Old School. He had to be tough to survive, but he was one of the kindest men I ever knew. Here on the South Coast, we'll all miss The Old Man, Richard Helgren.