September 07, 1989 - Snapper Fishing Then, Now & ForeverB14 The Suffolk Times • September 7, 1989
Snapper Fishing Then., Now &Forever
By Paul Stoutenburah
Both the south and north shores of
our East End have a bountiful number
of creeks, coves and bays that act as
spawning and nursery areas for a wide
variety of fish and shellfish. Toward the
end of August, when the snappers
(small bluefish) run, is when it is most
evident to me. It's a time when almost
anyone can be assured of catching fish.
You'll see men and women, boys and
girls, young and old trying their luck at
this reliable sport.
Like so many things though, it has
changed from when I was a barefoot boy
and spent most of my time around the
water. The hooks are about the same ex-
Focus on
Nature
cept, of course, they cost a lot more and
are made in Japan. The long - shanked
snapper hooks are especially designed so
you can work the hook in through the
mouth of the bait and out through the
gills. Then, by pushing the long -
shanked hook back towards the tail, you
fasten the barb into the tail. The idea is
to have the bait look as though it were
swimming. It works pretty well until
some thrashing snapper takes a bite out
of the middle and misses the hook com-
pletely. But then there's always the one
that has to get away.
In those early days those who didn't
have a rowboat fished from the bank of
a creek, usually just where it narrowed
Photo by Paul Stoutenburgh
GOOSE CREEK BRIDGE —The middle of August to the middle of September is snapper (baby bluefish) time
along our creeks and bays. It's a sport young and old can enjoy for one can be reasonably assured of
success.
down and emptied into the bay. We al-
ways had an old leaky rowboat around
and, like many others, we would anchor
it right in the middle of the channel.
This is one of the big differences in
fishing for snappers I see today. Every-
one has a power boat and few, if any,
have rowboats. Even if they did, they
couldn't anchor in the channel for it
now is a busy thoroughfare with a con-
tinual stream of traffic going in and out.
Bamboo Poles the Best
We used long bamboo poles that al-
ways had an awful bend at the end where
they lay against the garage wall. Today
I see even the youngest sporting shiny
new reels and rods, and you know what?
I don't think they catch any more snap-
pers with those than we did with our old
bamboo poles.
Bringing up kids is pure joy, espe-
cially when they are young enough to
enjoy fishing and swimming and all
those wonderful summer activities that
abound here on our East End. One of
the good things about growing old and
having your children married with kids
is that you get to have the grandchildren
around. We have the fun of having them
about without the hustle and bustle of
bringing them up and so when someone
suggested snapper fishing, Robby,
eight, our oldest grandchild said, "Let's
go!"
My mind flashed back to last year
when we ended the snapper season.
Where did I put the poles? I know we
needed new hooks. We'd have to get
some bait and it was getting late in the
afternoon. "Are you sure you want to
go, Robby ?" I asked. He didn't even
have to answer. I knew we. were going
snapper fishing.
Look as I could, I couldn't find the
poles so I hollered in to Barbara to help
look for them. Sure enough, neatly
tucked away in an old locker she found
the telescoping bamboo snapper poles. I
don't know how she does it, but it hap-
pens every time. She just looks, and
there it is. I didn't have any better luck
with the hooks but then I'd pick them
up on our way over to the point.
We'd take the old seine net and a
white plastic bucket for the bait and, oh
yes, Robby had to go get a few snacks
just in case he got hungry. Graham
crackers and a few handfuls of peanuts
in the shell would do. The interesting
thing about it was he never thought of
them once we got to our fishing spot.
He was too busy.
More Fun Than Fishing
We had to haul the seine for spearing
or silversides; they are the best bait for
snappers. I'd haul out in the deep end
and Robby would work along the shore.
My, the water was warm. "Keep the end
of the net down," I called as we slowly
tugged the billowing seine along. "Hold
it there and I'll swing up on the beach."
And slowly I came up and we then
pulled the folded net high above the wa-
ter line.
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We could see things jumping about
through the thick mesh so we knew
we'd gotten something. By now, three
or four small kids from up the beach
joined in the excitement. When we
opened the net it was alive with all
sorts of squirming, jumping, snapping
goodies. Here was proof - positive that
our creek was healthy and productive.
A baby blowfish was the prize and it
puffed up in typical blowfish fashion
and was a joy to all. It was passed
around as each stroked its prickly belly.
The majority of the fish were spearing
from one to three inches long. How
beautiful they were as we scooped them
and put them in the waiting bucket. The
slippery, olive - colored killies slivered in
the soup of life trying to get
somewhere, anywhere but in our net.
"Throw them back," I said, as eager
hands tossed them into the water. A
pipefish wiggled in someone's hand,
then shrimp jumped and there were
squeals from a little girl. This was pure
delight. Robby and his friends were in
their glory. Each time we pulled the
seine a waiting group of kids could
hardly contain themselves, each hoping
to be the first to see and grab a prize.
Later we'd bait our hooks, sling our
lines over our head with our long poles
and wait patiently for a bite. We did
catch three snappers before the tide
slackened and our luck dropped off.
Three would be enough. We'd take the
bait back and freeze it for another time.
We had fun for a few hours and by
now it was getting late. Seeing that all
the equipment was located and in work-
ing order and we have the bait, we'd just
have to get out again soon, I told
Robby. "Okay. How about tomorrow ?"
he said. "Wait a minute," I said. "How
about the weekend ?" "Well, okay," he
called back, as he headed home through
the woods, proudly carrying his catch of
the day.