May 14, 1981 - First Catch of the YearPage 14
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OPEN 24 HOURS 133 -135 THIRD STREET
Built 1857 GREENPORT, N.Y.
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24 HOURS A DAY!
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24 hours a day
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In The
Greenport, N.Y.
John Barillaro
24 HOURS A DAY!
Serving
APPEARING
to
Featuring
• COMPLETE BREAKFAST - Served from 4.30am - 1pm
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• LUNCH • LATE NIGHT FOOD available anytime
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24 hours a day
• "FOOD TO GO" - CALL 477 -1794
OPEN 7 DAYS
• Relaxed,friendly atmosphere to wine & dine.
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The "Olde Look" ... Join Us for an enjoyable old
Banquet Facilities for Parties
time evening... Try your hand at our "Player Piano"
with many old tunes... Juke Box with songs of the 40's
& 50's ... Dart Boards - Checkers - Backgammon - Scrabble.
• ROOMS AVAILABLE - Day- Week - Month
• COMPLETE DINNER MENU COMING SOOkfl
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THURSDAY NIGHT
LOBSTER
1 SPECIAL
95
11/4 lb. LOBSTER
PLUS
UNLIMITED
SALAD BAR
PLUS
Ice Cream &
I Coffee
MAIN STREET, RIVERHEAD �J
Open 7 Days A Week 727-1802
—18i 02
11 AM -Midnight
Convenient Entrance and Parking In The Rear.
May 14, 1981
Dining Guide
FIRST CATCH -- Weakfish with soft hues of pink and blue caught in early
everting on light tackle are a fisherman's delight.
Photo by Paul Stoutenburgh
First Catch of the Year
A watched pot never boils. So it was with
spring this year. It seemed it would never
get it here. Cold and rainy days kept the
pot from boiling. Yet when the boil did
occur, it seemed that it came overnight.
Everything was green at once. One night
we could look through our woods and see
the neighbors' lights. The next night we
were enclosed in darkness.
The same adage holds true for fishing.
All through the pre - boiling state I thought
about the weakfish that should be showing
up soon in our bays. First, the osprey or
fish hawk was back telling us that the
flounders and eels were out of their long
winter's sleep and again moving about in
our creeks. Then there were the scattered
reports of a few "weaks" being caught in
the traps out at Orient.And then the final
clue; the budding of the lilacs. Surely the
pot was boiling now.
Friday night we'd try it. Out of the closet
came old fishing gear that brought back
fond memories of last year's catch. The
little four -horse outboard was primed and
checked out. The boat's bottom had been
painted weeks ago and was now floating at
the dock ready for us. It was time!
Barbara and I dressed in warm clothes
and headed out just before sunset. This
was the waning hour. A cold southwest
wind stirred the bay into a chop that every
once in a while had to break away from the
rest and give us a taste of its spray. It told
us to slow down. After all the bay was still
in control.
Trolled, and Trolled and Trolled
Now in the mouth of the creek we put
over our prize lures that worked so well
last year and started trolling. We trolled,
and trolled and trolled. The sun went down
behind the trees and darkness took over
and we still trolled ... and trolled ... and
trolled. We were watching the pot too
closely for we didn't even get a strike. The
cold wind and the wet seats finally made
up our minds and we headed back. We
went home defeated.
I knew deep down that all the signs
couldn't be wrong. All the next day I
thought of last year's run of fish and how
we'd had such an exciting time catching
them. The time was right. Fish should be
there. I'll try again but this time with
another lure ... one of those modern plastic
ones that everyone is talking about. After
all there's no reason why fish can't change
their eating habits just as we do. Perhaps
they, like ourselves, want to keep abreast
of modern trends.
So soon after dinner 1 announced I'd give
it another try. This time alone. Barbara
nodded her head in that fashion I'd gotten
to know so well, which meant, "Okay, I
knew you just couldn't stay away." With
that blessing,I quickly gathered my gear
and headed to the boat now tied down at
the mouth of our little creek. We had to
leave it there because we can only get up
and down at high tide.
As I walked down the road I'm sure the
cars that passed were curious as to my
destination and its ultimate success. I'm
sure many were weekenders and the sight
of a fishing pole stirred their minds also of
fishing days ahead. Saturday night is a
busy one and car after car zoomed by as I
hurried along to get off the road.
Once in the boat and headed out, the
world again made more sense. The sun
was slowly sinking as I watched a snowy
egret pause from his busy hunt to watch
me pass by, a pair of mallards flew over
talking softly to each other and the great
marshes all about me were shooting up
with new sprouts of greenery. Could this be
the night? Was the pot ready to boil?
Cold and Wet Bay
As I left the creek I headed into the bay
with that same southwest wind blowing its
chill over me. Its chop seemed more
determined to turn me about for the tide
was working against the wind and I found
(continued on next page)
Authentic Regional
10 Cuisine
Prepared In Our Kitchen
va Reservations 765 -2111
NORTH FORK
J AClosed Monday
'r RESTAURANT
MAIN ROAD, SOUTHOLD OPEN 6 DAYS A WEEK
LUNCHEON ................ 11:30 - 2:30
DINNER ...................... 5 - 9
4
- Cards Accepted
SUNDAY BRUNCH ..... 11:30 - 2
SUNDAY DINNER ...... 3 - 9 John C. Ross Chef -Owner
,err w
S
t
at
r
Dancing
- �cst,r ►ast
EVERY
SATURDAY NIGHT.
•
In The
Greenport, N.Y.
John Barillaro
Gold Room
Serving
APPEARING
LUNCH 12PM - 3PM at the piano
Every Fri. & Sat. Night
May 16th
DINNER 3PM - 10PM
THIS SATURDAY
Rr s.
The 3 C's
477 -0666
OPEN 7 DAYS
d
All Major Credit Cards accepted
Banquet Facilities for Parties
S A. L
suA®a r
flea 12 2 N
urOON .
Ste n9 30 pM
ak
Haw, & E99s E
p �e dU Jo4YSt Oncelettened�ct
B /oozy des. prench Toa , �oUr
el 0
�arY or Cha�pa9�e
OON
THURSDAY NIGHT
LOBSTER
1 SPECIAL
95
11/4 lb. LOBSTER
PLUS
UNLIMITED
SALAD BAR
PLUS
Ice Cream &
I Coffee
MAIN STREET, RIVERHEAD �J
Open 7 Days A Week 727-1802
—18i 02
11 AM -Midnight
Convenient Entrance and Parking In The Rear.
May 14, 1981
Dining Guide
FIRST CATCH -- Weakfish with soft hues of pink and blue caught in early
everting on light tackle are a fisherman's delight.
Photo by Paul Stoutenburgh
First Catch of the Year
A watched pot never boils. So it was with
spring this year. It seemed it would never
get it here. Cold and rainy days kept the
pot from boiling. Yet when the boil did
occur, it seemed that it came overnight.
Everything was green at once. One night
we could look through our woods and see
the neighbors' lights. The next night we
were enclosed in darkness.
The same adage holds true for fishing.
All through the pre - boiling state I thought
about the weakfish that should be showing
up soon in our bays. First, the osprey or
fish hawk was back telling us that the
flounders and eels were out of their long
winter's sleep and again moving about in
our creeks. Then there were the scattered
reports of a few "weaks" being caught in
the traps out at Orient.And then the final
clue; the budding of the lilacs. Surely the
pot was boiling now.
Friday night we'd try it. Out of the closet
came old fishing gear that brought back
fond memories of last year's catch. The
little four -horse outboard was primed and
checked out. The boat's bottom had been
painted weeks ago and was now floating at
the dock ready for us. It was time!
Barbara and I dressed in warm clothes
and headed out just before sunset. This
was the waning hour. A cold southwest
wind stirred the bay into a chop that every
once in a while had to break away from the
rest and give us a taste of its spray. It told
us to slow down. After all the bay was still
in control.
Trolled, and Trolled and Trolled
Now in the mouth of the creek we put
over our prize lures that worked so well
last year and started trolling. We trolled,
and trolled and trolled. The sun went down
behind the trees and darkness took over
and we still trolled ... and trolled ... and
trolled. We were watching the pot too
closely for we didn't even get a strike. The
cold wind and the wet seats finally made
up our minds and we headed back. We
went home defeated.
I knew deep down that all the signs
couldn't be wrong. All the next day I
thought of last year's run of fish and how
we'd had such an exciting time catching
them. The time was right. Fish should be
there. I'll try again but this time with
another lure ... one of those modern plastic
ones that everyone is talking about. After
all there's no reason why fish can't change
their eating habits just as we do. Perhaps
they, like ourselves, want to keep abreast
of modern trends.
So soon after dinner 1 announced I'd give
it another try. This time alone. Barbara
nodded her head in that fashion I'd gotten
to know so well, which meant, "Okay, I
knew you just couldn't stay away." With
that blessing,I quickly gathered my gear
and headed to the boat now tied down at
the mouth of our little creek. We had to
leave it there because we can only get up
and down at high tide.
As I walked down the road I'm sure the
cars that passed were curious as to my
destination and its ultimate success. I'm
sure many were weekenders and the sight
of a fishing pole stirred their minds also of
fishing days ahead. Saturday night is a
busy one and car after car zoomed by as I
hurried along to get off the road.
Once in the boat and headed out, the
world again made more sense. The sun
was slowly sinking as I watched a snowy
egret pause from his busy hunt to watch
me pass by, a pair of mallards flew over
talking softly to each other and the great
marshes all about me were shooting up
with new sprouts of greenery. Could this be
the night? Was the pot ready to boil?
Cold and Wet Bay
As I left the creek I headed into the bay
with that same southwest wind blowing its
chill over me. Its chop seemed more
determined to turn me about for the tide
was working against the wind and I found
(continued on next page)
Authentic Regional
10 Cuisine
Prepared In Our Kitchen
va Reservations 765 -2111
NORTH FORK
J AClosed Monday
'r RESTAURANT
MAIN ROAD, SOUTHOLD OPEN 6 DAYS A WEEK
LUNCHEON ................ 11:30 - 2:30
DINNER ...................... 5 - 9
4
- Cards Accepted
SUNDAY BRUNCH ..... 11:30 - 2
SUNDAY DINNER ...... 3 - 9 John C. Ross Chef -Owner
,err w
S
t
at
May 14, 1981 TO XeW- Rebieb,
Focus
(continued from previous page)
the boat pounding more because it was so
light. Now was the time to try my new
plastic worm. Over it went and the line
streamed out. Back and forth I trolled. Up
and down. Around circles. In and out I
went but nothing took my lure. A pair of
skimmers headed north, their long orange -
red beaks cutting the air before them. Soon
the sun disappeared and I was alone on the
bay. Something was wrong. The fish
should be here. Everything was right. The
time. The tide. And of course, my new
plastic worm. What else could I do? I'd try
shutting the motor off and just cast.
I was just outside the sandbar that lies
off the mouth of the creek. Perhaps here
where the tide was bringing out its deluge
of food to feed the bay would be the place
to try. With the motor off now and only the
laughing of the waves, I started on my new
attack.
Out would go the line and back I'd draw
it. Time and time again I'd reel it in and
cast it out. It got so dark I was having
difficulty seeing the lure that every now
and then would bring in a dangling piece of
grass. The creek was spewing out its
nutrients and some were in the form of
grass that would foul up my line on about
every third cast.
Then there was a hit! The line grew taut
and the pole bent! I had one on! It ran to
the left fighting all the way and even spun
out the drag that I had previously set. I
kept the pole high in the air to let it act as a
shock absorber so my precious line would
not break. Great surges and jerks were
being transmitted to my pole. Slowly I
turned my unseen captive toward me and
worked it in. Once I got a flash of silver as
he swirled to the surface. "Would I lose
him ?" It was a nice sized weakfish (later
weighing in at 71/2 lbs.) and I was alone in
the boat.l had a gaff and so with one arm
guiding the fish close enough to the boat I
worked the gaff under and then with one
gigantic sweep up, over the gunnels he
came. Silver pink glistening, he now
thump, thump, thumped on the bottom of
the aluminum boat. I was breathless but I
had gotten the fish I knew should be there.
Then in rapid fire I got three more
smaller ones (44z lbs.) and lost two — one
taking my line and plastic worm and all.
My pot boileth over. I was rewarded for
not giving up. The cold wind and wet sea
had all disappeared. My day was com-
plete. As I headed back into the creek I
was once more thankful that we live in a
world of seasons; one in which we an-
ticipate and one in which we participate --
the weakfish season.
PAULSTOUTENBURGH
FOB
101" uSNOV� r
IDa
P
3.5
LUNCH
12:00 - 2:30
3EST IN
a THE AREA
ME
I
0oa � � 4 E-
V
V
OPEN 6 DAYS A WEEK
New Menu .
WEEKEND SPECIALS
PRIME RIBS & ROAST DUCKLING
477 -Ml
On The Waterfront, Third Street, Greenport
Managed by Dean Eichorn —
I).
Page 15
Fresh Seaf
90
Late Night
Fr bnack
le i &
cLOSFO
M Sat.
ONOq YS ..
DINNER
5:00 - 10:00
I :