September 06, 1984 - A Day on the BaySeptember 6, 1984 The 'Suffolk 'Time's Page 17
A Day on the Bay
By PAUL STOUTENBURGH
After the past weekend, I think the
East End rose out of the sea at least a
foot or more with the departure of the
summer population. Not because of the
extra bodies alone, but the cars and
equipment they bring with them. I had
to get gas at one of our local stations
Sunday to do the lawn, and in front of
me was a station wagon loaded to the
roof with the visiting family's posses-
sions. Everything from baby cribs to
fishing poles was stacked high in the
car.
I can see why the summer people
come to this part of Long Island, for it
has such a diversity of areas to enjoy.
Take, for example, the simple enjoy-
ment of fishing that the car I saw con-
veyed with its fishing pole safely lo-
cated atop everything. The vacationer
who comes here and rents a bungalow
without a boat can go to any one of our
creeks and with the simplest of equip-
ment catch his fill of snappers. And
should he want to go further out into
the bay for weakfish, porgies, etc., he
can by merely renting a boat. Should
he really want to venture and get the
big ones off shore, charter boats are av-
ailable at almost any of our ports:
As a matter of fact, my son and I fol-
lowed just such a pattern yesterday. We
had planned to do some diving but the
day was overcast, making visibility un-
derwater poor. "So, let's go fishing out
in the bay." He has a fast boat that usu-
ally runs full out, so getting to any fish-
ing spot proves a matter of only a short
time.
We cruised slowly out of the creek,
where some vacationers were trolling
quietly for snappers. This slow space is
a fine way to enjoy a day of snapper
fishing, which, with light gear, can be
most rewarding.
First Try Black Buoy
Our firstdrop was put at the old black
buoy that always in my day produced
fish. My son had caught 11 weakfish
here just last week, so we thought we'd
try here first. As we sped along at what
seemed to me like flying over the water
I was amazed to see how many cormor-
ants were in the bay. These diving
fisheaters have increased markedly
since years ago and I even see them
diving in our creeks now which is rather
unusual.
Once anchored and baited up with the
old stand -by of squid, I immediately
hooked into a nice size weakfish but
from then on we were pestered by little
snappers which weren't what we were
looking for. Those vibrant pink, blue
and yellow colors on a silvery back-
ground surely make the weakfish one
of the most beautiful of all fishes. We
soon decided to give up here and try
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over on the South Race at the end of
Robin Island for bluefish.
Here we saw birds working off Cows
Neck; hoping for bluefish, we rigged for
them. There must have been 300 birds
working over the water. Lots of imma-
ture terns, both least and common, were
there which I was glad to see for it
meant there was a good nesting season
without any great storms or predation
of these endangered groundnesters.
Mixed in were immature laughing
gulls, which are becoming more and
more common in our bays and, of course,
a handful of our own herring gulls. The
signs were right but no fish looked at
our trailing lures.
With such ease of relocation, we
thought of fluke fishing over by Shin-
necock Inlet and so we went through
the canal and were soon gliding across
Shinnecock Bay. Now we rerigged for
fluke and no sooner had gotten our lines
over when I noticed birds working out
in the ocean. "How about trying for
something more sporting than fluke ?"
I suggested. It didn't take much to
change my son's mind and soon we were
through Shinnecock Inlet with its swirl-
ing waters into the ocean.
Diving Birds - Breaking Fish
We arrived amidst the diving of birds
and the breaking of fish. What better
signs could there be? We were using a
many - hooked contraption called an um-
brella rig which has pieces of plastic
tubing and hooks attached to it. Trail-
ing in the water, it resembles a small
school of fish. I was the first to get one
over and immediately seemed to hook
onto the bottom, but the bottom was
pulling the line out from my reel. I
couldn't believe the strain I had to exert
to get the line back in. I caught two
bluefish at one time and getting near
enough to the boat to be hauled in by
a net really took a lot of work. Again
the terns and gulls guided us to where
the action was. We continually got fish,
sometimes three at a time, and I'm sure
there were more but by the time we got
them in some got off.
By now the relatively calm wind we
had started out in had shifted to the
east and was creating a choppy ocean
rip that bobbed us about like a cork.
Time and time again we brought the
thrashing, fighting, green, chomping-
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Photo by Paul Stoutenburgh
BAIT FOR BLUES - -These silvery, fast - moving mackerel are no match
for the ferocious bluefish when feeding. Often they are driven, like other
small fish, right out of the water and onto the beach.
mouthed bluefish aboard. Six, seven
and eight - pounders were slapping and
jumping in the bottom of the boat. Be-
ware feet! Some would regurgitate their
spoils of feeding. Small mackerel, were
their prey.
Then I saw nature in its rawest mo-
ment. A small school of young mackerel
leap- frogged out of the water with their
pursuers right behind. They started out
as a small school of 10 or 15 or so. Then
on each consecutive leap for life their
number decreased -- eight, five, four,
three and then the last one jumped for
the last time and then there were none.
They had tried to outrun their predator,
but it was no use with these swift and
hungry blues beneath them.
By late afternoon and three miles off
shore, the sea was getting nasty. We
had enough for ourselves and friends
and so we turned and headed home-
ward. As we sped across the more pro-
tected water of Peconic Bay I could al-
ready see a reduction in boat activity
op the bay. Labor Day was over.
By now most of our summer visitors
were fighting the traffic to the west,
heading home to their own place in the
sun. I breathed deeply in the clear salt
air as we crossed the water and thought
quietly to myself. I knew all too well
why the crowds had come to this end of
the island for their vacation. There is
no better place to spend the summer
months.
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