October 02, 1986 - In Pursuit of the Wily EelTHE SUFFOLK TIME��
"How about it, Dad, want to go eel-
ing tomorrow night ?" And so it was
that we made plans to get off in the
darkness the following evening and
try spearing for eels using a light.
My mind flashed back to the many
times I'd done this with various
friends through the years, and to my
early boyhood when events like this
would keep me awake half the night
Focus on
Nature
just thinking about it. Such early
outings would be the workshops for
later on in life.
Probably it was the Indians who
taught the white man the art of fire -
lighting, for we know they stalked
marsh birds by torchlight and, I'm
sure, they also stalked the crabs and
fish and eels as well. Their idea was
that the light would blind their prey
and let you get close enough to catch
it one way or another. I know this
works, for I've often eeled with a
bright light along the shores and
come right up to night herons that
are stalking in the shallows. Some-
times you can get as close as eight to
10 feet before they take off.
It's easy to imagine some half -
naked Indian, holding his torch high
at night, creeping up on some unsus-
pecting bird. Food was bountiful
along our creeks and bays which ex-
plains why these were the areas the
Indians settled.
Mud and Sand Spears
There are usually two kinds of
spears used for eeling: the sand
spear, which is used for spearing on
the surface of the creek bottom; and
the mud spear, which is used when
the eels are deep down in winter's
mud and the eeling is done through
the ice. We had a special one that my
son had given me. It was a master-
piece of craftsmanship. Each point or
needle on this particular sand spear
could be removed and replaced if bro-
ken or bent.
Usually a gas light is used, but
here again my son provided a new
version of lighting -- an electric light.
I was glad of this, for the gas lights I
had always used needed pumping or
the generator would get plugged up
or the mantle would be broken, but
we had no such problem with the
electric light. Its only drawback was
the heavy battery we had to lug
along.
A Z i If c
SMOKED FISH - -There is something special about
the taste of smoked fish or eels when you use our
The brown tide is still with us in
Peconic Bay, though not as bad as it
was during the summer. This, plus
too high a tide, made it difficult to
see the bottom even with the electric
light. The truly amazing thing was
that along the marsh edge, wherever
there was a substantial track of
marsh grass, the water was clear.
In one spot, we went up a narrow
offshoot of the creek that was no
wider than 10 feet, but behind it
there was a good stand of marsh
grass. Here, as along the edge of the
marsh, the outgoing water was crys-
taf clear. It was unbelievable to see
the difference and to see how well the
marsh acted as a filter. I knew this
was one of its great benefits but
never had seen it so dramatically de-
monstrated. One of the many reasons
for protecting our wetlands.
Did Well With Eels
We did fairly well eeling consider-
ing the murky water we had to con-
tend with away from the marsh edge.
Crabs were the disappointment, for
most were small and we passed them
by. In the long run, though, small
crabs are a good sign for they show
reproduction is going on and that's
what we're looking for in the future.
Photo by Paul Stoutenburgh
own native hickory or apple wood in the smoking
process.
. It was good to be out in the creek
at night once again. As we moved
over the mirror -like water in the
quiet of the evening, night sounds
from the trees and greenery kept us
constant company along the way.
On two occasions we heard the rus-
tle of beating wings as startled ducks
flew out of the path of our light.
They'd been feeding in the shallows.
Further along we surprised a lone
night heron who left, scolding us in
his traditionally raspy "quawk" for
disturbing his nighttime solitude.
There was a time when you'd see 10
or 12 of these on a night's, outing, as
they used to nest all around us.
It was a kind of dreamy drifting
until a voice from up in the bow
would say, "Over there" and I'd head
"over there ". Up would go the spear
and down with a splash! If Rog was
lucky, up it would come with an eel
twisting, turning and biting on the
end of it.
Then the night quiet would be bro-
ken as confusion and great thrashing
about took place while we tried to get
the eel off and into the deep bucket,
both standing and balancing or the
boat seats in the dark. One eel shot
right up out of the bucket and
Everyone Reads
thrashed about in the bilge in hopes
of escape. Those are the ones that
give you trouble when you get back
to the dock and try to capture them.
Slippery as an eel -- you wish it
wasn't.
Back home I cleaned the eels for
smoking. A slow fire and hickory
chips do the trick. Smoked eels make
mighty fine eating.
Always interested in what eels eat
in our creeks, I opened the stomachs
of three of the largest and found soft
crabs inside them. I couldn't believe
my eyes. In some of the smaller ones
there were fiddler crabs, and sand
shrimp. "Eat or be eaten" is the say-
ing in the wild. My only wish was
that I could have found one of the soft
crabs myself and brought it home to
Barbara, for she dearly loves them.
How that large soft crab could get
into the mouth and then the stomach
of an eel is hard to imagine but there
was the proof.
And so we went firelighting and
got our eels and a small mess of
crabs. It took some work getting pre-
pared but then that's what it's all
about -- being involved and getting
out to enjoy the world around us.
The S-uX:ftollk Times