July 13, 2000 - A brief hiatus at Hither Hills park6A • The Suffolk Times • July 13, 2000
A brief hiatus at Hither Hills park
One of the keys to an enjoyable life
is to take advantage of every oppor-
tunity that comes along. Case in point:
Recently we found ourselves with a
few days free of all appointments,
meetings, etc., and since the busy sea-
son had not yet started at Hither Hills
State Park in
Montauk, we de- Focus
cided to go camp-
ing. As an added ON
incentive, we had NATURE
been offered the
use of a pop -up by Paul
camper. Stoutenburgh
A quick
refresher course in how the camper
went up and down, a few supplies
and we were off. Cloudy weather,
with its wind out of the east, told us
warm jackets and extra blankets
were in order. True to the east wind's
characteristics, the weather was mis-
erable, overcast with an occasional
drizzle; all trying to discourage us,
yet we were quite comfortable. Not
so for many others; most had left.
The next day couldn't have been
more discouraging, people walking
around in hooded thermal jackets,
hands in their pockets and heads
bent into that relentless east wind.
Meantime Barbara and I were snug
in our little camper, reading, writing
and doing those things that we
couldn't get around to doing back
home. We even took time out in the
evening to go to the movies, which is
most unusual for us.
I felt sorry for the barn swallows
that constantly flew back and forth, in
and around our camper. There'd be
little in the way of flying insects for
them to choose from. I wondered how
their young would make out. One
thing in their favor is that they build
their nests under cover, protected
from the damaging wind and rain.
Back home we have a pair nesting
in the small barn that gives shelter to
our two cows when the weather gets
bad. Barn swallows are not appreci-
ated by some because their droppings
often mess up the front porch or fall
on the family car. That can surely
dampen one's appreciation for these
super aerialists whose sole purpose is
to catch flying mosquitoes, flies and
other insects on the wing.
Time to do some fishing
After hibernating for three days in
our camper there was a break in the
weather with a shift in the wind. It
was time to get out and do things. We
had brought our lightweight canoe
along knowing from past years it was
our means of getting to where the
fish were. It was -only a short drive to
the launching site that bristled with
warning signs. "No parking beyond
this point without a permit — $125
fine." Yet there were no signs saying
we couldn't launch our canoe and
then park back past the warning
signs, so that's just what we did. By
now, the wind had picked up so we
headed for shelter of the narrows
between the mainland and the sand
island to the north.
A few common terns were working
in the channel so I picked up the
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rg erred
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Children 12 and under free
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Main Road, Southold rn
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For tickets and information
please call (631) 727 -0900.
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Suffolk Times photo by Barbara Stoutenburgh
A more prehistoric - looking fish would be hard to find. Most people consider
the sea robin a trash fish while others can't say enough good about it. The
problem is, few know how to clean it.
light spinning rod with its imitation
sand eel lure and began casting. Cast
after cast and nothing happened,
then somehow my lure must have
sunk to the bottom and I had a bite.
There was something there all right,
but the fight was sluggish and
dragged on my line. In and in I
reeled; every once in a while there
was a token of action but that was all.
Yet my light pole bent double as I
reeled in. Whatever it was, it was
heavy. What came up was a huge sea
robin. Not the greatest catch.
Sea robins have long appendages
that appear to let them walk on the
bottom. Their huge bony head is
equipped with sharp horns and their
green eyes give the fish a prehistoric
look. Even their rusty orange color
sets them off from most other fish.
With a heavy rag I picked it up and
immediately it put out its saucer -size
fins. As I worked the hook out, deep
guttural growls came from within. It
was 14 inches long. To most the sea
robin is a trash fish not worth bother-
ing with. Yet to others, this is ,a good
eating fish, that is if you know how to
clean it.
Out in the bay we could see diving
terns and breaking fish, but to get
there meant exposing ourselves to
the strong southwest wind that we
had tried to escape when we first
launched. Those diving terns and the
occasional breaking of fish made it
impossible to resist. We swung the
canoe around and headed out. There
seemed to be a rip just over an un-
derwater bar that was hosting all the
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activity. I had brought along a small
folding anchor that I dropped over-
board just as we came into the rip.
It was a scene every fisherman
dreams of: fish breaking water, 50 or
more screaming terns hovering and
diving and your boat in the ideal po-
sition. Birds were all around us, some
hanging in the air, their heads and
eyes scanning the water below, others
looking for a sign of action that would
force the bait fish to the surface.
There were always some who would
spot something and drop out of the
hovering, milling wings and plummet
down, some just swooping over the
water's surface, others diving directly
into the water, while still others would
give up and return to the noisy, ever -
moving group that waited for the next
rise of darting bait.
Success, finally
I'd try a different lure, a white
bucktail. It was hard to concentrate
on fishing with all that was going on
about the canoe. It was a wild scene,
with the wind howling out of the
southwest and waves rolling by, mak-
ing the canoe a bit unsteady. No luck
with the bucktail. I'd have to go back
to my imitation sand eel. This time
after six or eight tries I hooked one
of the mysterious reapers from be-
low. Out went the line, my light pole
doubled over, It must be a fair -size
fish. I reeled in, only to lose what I'd
gained by an unexpected charge.
Back and forth we'd go, till finally I
felt my adversary had slowed up.
Now there was just a continual drag
with an occasional run to get away.
Finally I could see the wire leader.
I asked Barbara to grab it and pull
our catch over the side. Sure enough,
she managed to swing a thrashing
striped bass into the canoe. So that's
what was causing all the feeding fren-
zy from below. It was a nice size fish
but one well under legal size. A quick
picture for the record and over the
side it went. For the next half -hour I
tried my best to hook another one,
but that game was over. Had the
word gotten out or was I just lucky to
have caught an unsuspecting one?
After all, why take a manmade lure
when the rip was full of silvery bait?
I could have stayed there all day
amongst the diving terns and hungry
fish below. It's seldom one gets the
opportunity to witness nature's sav-
age yet splendid way as that day out
on Napeague Bay, Montauk.
6A • The Suffolk Times • July 13, 2000
A brief hiatus at
One of the keys to an enjoyable life
is to take advantage of every oppor-
tunity that comes along. Case in point:
Recently we found ourselves with a
few days free of all appointments,
meetings, etc., and since the busy sea-
son had not yet started at Hither Hills
State Park in
Montauk, we de- FOCUS
cided to go camp-
ing. As an added ON
incentive, we had NATURE
been offered the by pawl
camper.
use e a pop -up Stoutenburgh
A quick
refresher course in how the camper
went up and down, a few supplies
and we were off. Cloudy weather,
with its wind out of the east, told us
warm jackets and extra blankets
were in order. True to the east wind's
characteristics, the weather was mis-
erable, overcast with an occasional
drizzle; all trying to discourage us,
yet we were quite comfortable. Not
so for many others; most had left.
The next day couldn't, have been
more discouraging, people walking
around in hooded thermal jackets,
hands in their pockets and heads
bent into that relentless east wind.
Meantime Barbara and I were snug
in our little camper, reading, writing
and doing those things that we
couldn't get around to doing back
home. We even took time out in the
evening to go to the movies, which is
most unusual for us.
I felt sorry for the barn swallows
that constantly flew back and forth, in
Hither Hills park
Suffolk Times photo by Barbara Stoutenburgh
A more prehistoric - looking fish would be hard to find. Most people consider
the sea robin a trash fish while others can't say enough good about it. The
problem is, few know how to clean it.
and around our camper. There'd be
little in the way of flying insects for
them to choose from. I wondered how
their young would make out. One
thing in their favor is that they build
their nests under cover, protected
from the damaging wind and rain.
Back home we have a pair nesting
in the small barn that gives shelter to
our two cows when the weather gets
bad. Barn swallows are not appreci-
ated by some because their droppings
often mess ,up the front porch or fall
on the family car. That can surely
dampen one's appreciation for these
super aerialists whose sole purpose is
to catch flying mosquitoes, flies and
other insects on the wing.
Time to do some fishing
After hibernating for three days in
our camper there was a break in the
weather with a shift in the wind. It
was time to get out and do things. We
had brought our lightweight canoe
along knowing from past years it was
our means of getting to where the
fish were. It was only a short drive to
the launching site that bristled with
warning signs. "No parking beyond
this point without a permit — $125
fine." Yet there were no signs saying
we couldn't launch our canoe and
then park back past the warning
signs, so that's just what we did. By
now, the wind had picked up so we
headed for shelter of the narrows
between the mainland and the sand
island to the north.
A few common terns were working
in the channel so I nicked up the
light spinning rod with its imitation
sand eel lure and began casting. Cast
after cast and nothing happened,
then somehow my lure must have
sunk to the bottom and I had a bite.
There was something there all right,
but the fight was sluggish and
dragged on my line. In and in I
reeled; every once in a while there
was a token of action but that was all
Yet my light pole bent double as I
reeled in. Whatever it was, it was
heavy. What came up was a huge sea
robin. Not the greatest catch.
Sea robins have long appendages
that appear to let them walk on the
bottom. Their huge bony'head is
equipped with sharp horns and their
green eyes give the fish'a prehistoric
look. Even their rusty orange color
sets them off from most other fish.
With a heavy rag I picked it up and
immediately it put out its saucer -size
fins. As I worked the hook out, deep
guttural growls came from within. It
was 14 inches long. To most the sea
robin is a trash fish not worth bother-
ing with. Yet to others, this is a good
ating fish, that is if you know how to
clean it.
Out in the bay we could see diving
terns and breaking fish, but to get
there meant exposing ourselves to
the strong southwest wind that we
had tried to escape when we first
launched. Those diving terns and the
occasional breaking of fish made it
impossible to resist. We swung the
canoe around and headed out. There
seemed to be a rip just over an un-
derwater bar that was hosting all the
activity. I had brought along a small
folding anchor that I dropped over-
board just as we came into the rip.
It was a scene every fisherman
dreams of. fish breaking water, 50 or
more screaming terns hovering and
diving and your boat in the ideal po-
sition. Birds were all around us, some
hanging in the air, their heads and
eyes scanning the water below, others
looking for a sign of action that would
force the bait'fish to the surface.
There were .always some who would,
spot something and drop out of the
hovering, milling wings and plummet
down, some just swooping over the
water's surface, others diving directly
into the water, while still others would
give up and return to the noisy, ever -
moving group that waited for the next
rise of darting bait.
Success, finally
I'd try a different lure, a white
bucktail. It was hard to concentrate
on fishing with all that was going on
about the canoe. It was a wild scene,
with the wind howling out of the
southwest and waves rolling by, mak-
ing the canoe a bit unsteady. No luck
with the bucktail. I'd have to go back
to my imitation sand eel. This time
after six or eight tries I hooked one
of the mysterious reapers from be-
low. Out went the line, my light pole
doubled over. It must be a fair -size
fish. I reeled in, only to lose what I'd
gained by an unexpected charge.
Back and forth we'd go, till finally I
felt my adversary had slowed up.
Now there was just a continual drag
with an occasional run to get away.
Finally I could see the wire leader.
I asked Barbara to grab it and pull
our catch over the side. Sure enough,
she managed to swing a thrashing
striped bass into the canoe. So that's
what was causing all the feeding fren-
zy from below. It was a nice size fish
but one well under legal size. A quick
picture for the record and over the
side it went. For the next half -hour I
tried my best to hook another one,
but that game was over. Had the
word gotten out or was I just lucky to
have caught an unsuspecting one?
After all, why take a manmade lure
when the rip was full of silvery bait?
I could have stayed there all day
amongst the diving terns and hungry
fish below. It's seldom one gets the
opportunity to witness nature's sav-
age yet splendid way as that day out
on Napeague Bay, Montauk.
6A • The Suffolk Times • July 13, 2000
A brief hiatus at
One of the keys to an enjoyable life
is to take advantage of every oppor-
tunity that comes along. Case in point:
Recently we found ourselves with a
few days free of all appointments,
meetings, etc., and since the busy sea-
son had not yet started at Hither Hills
State Park in
Montauk, we de- FOCUS
cided to go camp-
ing. As an added ON
incentive, we had NATURE
been offered the by pawl
camper.
use e a pop -up Stoutenburgh
A quick
refresher course in how the camper
went up and down, a few supplies
and we were off. Cloudy weather,
with its wind out of the east, told us
warm jackets and extra blankets
were in order. True to the east wind's
characteristics, the weather was mis-
erable, overcast with an occasional
drizzle; all trying to discourage us,
yet we were quite comfortable. Not
so for many others; most had left.
The next day couldn't, have been
more discouraging, people walking
around in hooded thermal jackets,
hands in their pockets and heads
bent into that relentless east wind.
Meantime Barbara and I were snug
in our little camper, reading, writing
and doing those things that we
couldn't get around to doing back
home. We even took time out in the
evening to go to the movies, which is
most unusual for us.
I felt sorry for the barn swallows
that constantly flew back and forth, in
Hither Hills park
Suffolk Times photo by Barbara Stoutenburgh
A more prehistoric - looking fish would be hard to find. Most people consider
the sea robin a trash fish while others can't say enough good about it. The
problem is, few know how to clean it.
and around our camper. There'd be
little in the way of flying insects for
them to choose from. I wondered how
their young would make out. One
thing in their favor is that they build
their nests under cover, protected
from the damaging wind and rain.
Back home we have a pair nesting
in the small barn that gives shelter to
our two cows when the weather gets
bad. Barn swallows are not appreci-
ated by some because their droppings
often mess ,up the front porch or fall
on the family car. That can surely
dampen one's appreciation for these
super aerialists whose sole purpose is
to catch flying mosquitoes, flies and
other insects on the wing.
Time to do some fishing
After hibernating for three days in
our camper there was a break in the
weather with a shift in the wind. It
was time to get out and do things. We
had brought our lightweight canoe
along knowing from past years it was
our means of getting to where the
fish were. It was only a short drive to
the launching site that bristled with
warning signs. "No parking beyond
this point without a permit — $125
fine." Yet there were no signs saying
we couldn't launch our canoe and
then park back past the warning
signs, so that's just what we did. By
now, the wind had picked up so we
headed for shelter of the narrows
between the mainland and the sand
island to the north.
A few common terns were working
in the channel so I nicked up the
light spinning rod with its imitation
sand eel lure and began casting. Cast
after cast and nothing happened,
then somehow my lure must have
sunk to the bottom and I had a bite.
There was something there all right,
but the fight was sluggish and
dragged on my line. In and in I
reeled; every once in a while there
was a token of action but that was all
Yet my light pole bent double as I
reeled in. Whatever it was, it was
heavy. What came up was a huge sea
robin. Not the greatest catch.
Sea robins have long appendages
that appear to let them walk on the
bottom. Their huge bony'head is
equipped with sharp horns and their
green eyes give the fish'a prehistoric
look. Even their rusty orange color
sets them off from most other fish.
With a heavy rag I picked it up and
immediately it put out its saucer -size
fins. As I worked the hook out, deep
guttural growls came from within. It
was 14 inches long. To most the sea
robin is a trash fish not worth bother-
ing with. Yet to others, this is a good
ating fish, that is if you know how to
clean it.
Out in the bay we could see diving
terns and breaking fish, but to get
there meant exposing ourselves to
the strong southwest wind that we
had tried to escape when we first
launched. Those diving terns and the
occasional breaking of fish made it
impossible to resist. We swung the
canoe around and headed out. There
seemed to be a rip just over an un-
derwater bar that was hosting all the
activity. I had brought along a small
folding anchor that I dropped over-
board just as we came into the rip.
It was a scene every fisherman
dreams of. fish breaking water, 50 or
more screaming terns hovering and
diving and your boat in the ideal po-
sition. Birds were all around us, some
hanging in the air, their heads and
eyes scanning the water below, others
looking for a sign of action that would
force the bait'fish to the surface.
There were .always some who would,
spot something and drop out of the
hovering, milling wings and plummet
down, some just swooping over the
water's surface, others diving directly
into the water, while still others would
give up and return to the noisy, ever -
moving group that waited for the next
rise of darting bait.
Success, finally
I'd try a different lure, a white
bucktail. It was hard to concentrate
on fishing with all that was going on
about the canoe. It was a wild scene,
with the wind howling out of the
southwest and waves rolling by, mak-
ing the canoe a bit unsteady. No luck
with the bucktail. I'd have to go back
to my imitation sand eel. This time
after six or eight tries I hooked one
of the mysterious reapers from be-
low. Out went the line, my light pole
doubled over. It must be a fair -size
fish. I reeled in, only to lose what I'd
gained by an unexpected charge.
Back and forth we'd go, till finally I
felt my adversary had slowed up.
Now there was just a continual drag
with an occasional run to get away.
Finally I could see the wire leader.
I asked Barbara to grab it and pull
our catch over the side. Sure enough,
she managed to swing a thrashing
striped bass into the canoe. So that's
what was causing all the feeding fren-
zy from below. It was a nice size fish
but one well under legal size. A quick
picture for the record and over the
side it went. For the next half -hour I
tried my best to hook another one,
but that game was over. Had the
word gotten out or was I just lucky to
have caught an unsuspecting one?
After all, why take a manmade lure
when the rip was full of silvery bait?
I could have stayed there all day
amongst the diving terns and hungry
fish below. It's seldom one gets the
opportunity to witness nature's sav-
age yet splendid way as that day out
on Napeague Bay, Montauk.
6A • The Suffolk Times • July 13, 2000
A brief hiatus at
One of the keys to an enjoyable life
is to take advantage of every oppor-
tunity that comes along. Case in point:
Recently we found ourselves with a
few days free of all appointments,
meetings, etc., and since the busy sea-
son had not yet started at Hither Hills
State Park in
Montauk, we de- FOCUS
cided to go camp-
ing. As an added ON
incentive, we had NATURE
been offered the by pawl
camper.
use e a pop -up Stoutenburgh
A quick
refresher course in how the camper
went up and down, a few supplies
and we were off. Cloudy weather,
with its wind out of the east, told us
warm jackets and extra blankets
were in order. True to the east wind's
characteristics, the weather was mis-
erable, overcast with an occasional
drizzle; all trying to discourage us,
yet we were quite comfortable. Not
so for many others; most had left.
The next day couldn't, have been
more discouraging, people walking
around in hooded thermal jackets,
hands in their pockets and heads
bent into that relentless east wind.
Meantime Barbara and I were snug
in our little camper, reading, writing
and doing those things that we
couldn't get around to doing back
home. We even took time out in the
evening to go to the movies, which is
most unusual for us.
I felt sorry for the barn swallows
that constantly flew back and forth, in
Hither Hills park
Suffolk Times photo by Barbara Stoutenburgh
A more prehistoric - looking fish would be hard to find. Most people consider
the sea robin a trash fish while others can't say enough good about it. The
problem is, few know how to clean it.
and around our camper. There'd be
little in the way of flying insects for
them to choose from. I wondered how
their young would make out. One
thing in their favor is that they build
their nests under cover, protected
from the damaging wind and rain.
Back home we have a pair nesting
in the small barn that gives shelter to
our two cows when the weather gets
bad. Barn swallows are not appreci-
ated by some because their droppings
often mess ,up the front porch or fall
on the family car. That can surely
dampen one's appreciation for these
super aerialists whose sole purpose is
to catch flying mosquitoes, flies and
other insects on the wing.
Time to do some fishing
After hibernating for three days in
our camper there was a break in the
weather with a shift in the wind. It
was time to get out and do things. We
had brought our lightweight canoe
along knowing from past years it was
our means of getting to where the
fish were. It was only a short drive to
the launching site that bristled with
warning signs. "No parking beyond
this point without a permit — $125
fine." Yet there were no signs saying
we couldn't launch our canoe and
then park back past the warning
signs, so that's just what we did. By
now, the wind had picked up so we
headed for shelter of the narrows
between the mainland and the sand
island to the north.
A few common terns were working
in the channel so I nicked up the
light spinning rod with its imitation
sand eel lure and began casting. Cast
after cast and nothing happened,
then somehow my lure must have
sunk to the bottom and I had a bite.
There was something there all right,
but the fight was sluggish and
dragged on my line. In and in I
reeled; every once in a while there
was a token of action but that was all
Yet my light pole bent double as I
reeled in. Whatever it was, it was
heavy. What came up was a huge sea
robin. Not the greatest catch.
Sea robins have long appendages
that appear to let them walk on the
bottom. Their huge bony'head is
equipped with sharp horns and their
green eyes give the fish'a prehistoric
look. Even their rusty orange color
sets them off from most other fish.
With a heavy rag I picked it up and
immediately it put out its saucer -size
fins. As I worked the hook out, deep
guttural growls came from within. It
was 14 inches long. To most the sea
robin is a trash fish not worth bother-
ing with. Yet to others, this is a good
ating fish, that is if you know how to
clean it.
Out in the bay we could see diving
terns and breaking fish, but to get
there meant exposing ourselves to
the strong southwest wind that we
had tried to escape when we first
launched. Those diving terns and the
occasional breaking of fish made it
impossible to resist. We swung the
canoe around and headed out. There
seemed to be a rip just over an un-
derwater bar that was hosting all the
activity. I had brought along a small
folding anchor that I dropped over-
board just as we came into the rip.
It was a scene every fisherman
dreams of. fish breaking water, 50 or
more screaming terns hovering and
diving and your boat in the ideal po-
sition. Birds were all around us, some
hanging in the air, their heads and
eyes scanning the water below, others
looking for a sign of action that would
force the bait'fish to the surface.
There were .always some who would,
spot something and drop out of the
hovering, milling wings and plummet
down, some just swooping over the
water's surface, others diving directly
into the water, while still others would
give up and return to the noisy, ever -
moving group that waited for the next
rise of darting bait.
Success, finally
I'd try a different lure, a white
bucktail. It was hard to concentrate
on fishing with all that was going on
about the canoe. It was a wild scene,
with the wind howling out of the
southwest and waves rolling by, mak-
ing the canoe a bit unsteady. No luck
with the bucktail. I'd have to go back
to my imitation sand eel. This time
after six or eight tries I hooked one
of the mysterious reapers from be-
low. Out went the line, my light pole
doubled over. It must be a fair -size
fish. I reeled in, only to lose what I'd
gained by an unexpected charge.
Back and forth we'd go, till finally I
felt my adversary had slowed up.
Now there was just a continual drag
with an occasional run to get away.
Finally I could see the wire leader.
I asked Barbara to grab it and pull
our catch over the side. Sure enough,
she managed to swing a thrashing
striped bass into the canoe. So that's
what was causing all the feeding fren-
zy from below. It was a nice size fish
but one well under legal size. A quick
picture for the record and over the
side it went. For the next half -hour I
tried my best to hook another one,
but that game was over. Had the
word gotten out or was I just lucky to
have caught an unsuspecting one?
After all, why take a manmade lure
when the rip was full of silvery bait?
I could have stayed there all day
amongst the diving terns and hungry
fish below. It's seldom one gets the
opportunity to witness nature's sav-
age yet splendid way as that day out
on Napeague Bay, Montauk.