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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 Wine Count rg erred Conplo Bring -your chairs, blankets and picnic dinners to our six -week, rain -or -shine outdoor concert series held in the beautiful Long Island Wine Region! Prevented by the East End Arts Council Adults $10 Children 12 and under free Saturdays 6:30 - 8:30 p.m. JULY 15 F. Kenn Morr Folk Band Corey Creek Vcneyardd Main Road, Southold rn JULY 22 Sant Taylor Blued Band Palmer Vineyard 108 Sound Avenue, Aquebogue Sponsored by Times /Review Newspapers, North Fork Bank, Riverhead Building Supply, Roanoke Plaza Liquors and Barth's Drug Store. For tickets and information please call (631) 727 -0900. This space donated as a public service by Times /Review Newspapers. 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 EPISCOPAL CHURCH OF THE REDEEMER Comer d Westphalia Road and Sound Avenue, Mattauck (across from Norch Fork community Theatre) THE REVD JAMES DENNISON EDWARDS, VICAR Sunday Services: 8 a.m. Rite I 10 a.m. Rite II Thursday Service 9 a.m. The Holy Eucharist Families and Visitors Welcome 631. 298 -4277 Website: redeemermattituck.homepage.com 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.