Loading...
August 18, 2005 - Angling for keepersThe Suffolk Times • August 18, 2005 Anglin for keepers 5uttoiK i imes pnom oy raw z:coucenuurgn Perhaps not this year but next will bring to our bays and creeks weakfish that are not only good to eat but also provide the fisherman with a real chal- lenge. Today there are lots of small weaks in the bay but most fall too short In length to be legal. Momomeone had told my son of a special fishing spot west of Robins Is- land marked by a white buoy that desig. nated where rocks could be a hazard to navigation. Always an ardent fisherman my response to his question "Want to go fishing ?" brought a quick and posi- tive reply. I had caught a good number of squid a few months ago out at Greenport and so there was no Focus problem of bait. Yes, he had the ON poles on board, sc NATURE let's get going. xi: boat is moored in by Paul the creek so we Stoutenburgh had to motor out to it. For some reason the motor on the small boat wouldn't start, but no matter — we could row out. Once the engine to the big boat was given a squirt of starter fluid, the en- gine sputtered once or twice and then roared and coughed out its cooling wa ter to tell us all was ready and willing to head out. After about a half hour of doing nothing but enjoying the day as we motored along, we picked up his son Paul at the commercial dock at North Sea Harbor on the other side of the bay, and so the third member of the family hopped aboard. Like father, like son — Paulie was eager to be on board and full of enthu- siasm for the day ahead. On our way to this wonder spot that my son was told about, we saw fish breaking ahead. That could mean o y one thing - I quickly grabbed a pole that had a shiny lure and a treble hook attached and proceeded to get ready to cast into the fish ahead. So here goes the oldest, mos experienced fisherman aboard. I swung back and let go the shiny lure as it tore th rough the air heading directly toward the breaking fish, then — snap — and the lure continued on its way, unat- tached to the line. Something fouled thE line from going on its merry way and I reluctantly brought in an empty line. Not a very good example to my grand- son, who was looking on. Oh, well, that' shing. We circled back to where me ash were but by now they had disap- ieared and there wasn't a trace of them o D be seen. Round and round we went, rolling and trying out lures of every ize and description in hopes that one hose young tigers would come to our ure and strike it. No such luck, so it was on to the spe- :ial rock that was supposed to turn up fish of all sorts. We had heard porgies were in the bay so we set our gear for them. Deep down it really didn't mat- ter if we caught fish or not. Paulie had brought along a couple of heros for lunch and Roger had plenty of drinks on ice. It's great for three generations of fishermen to get together and have such an easy, carefree time of it. The day was warm and sunny and the shade of the big cabin added much to our comfort. We all felt sorry for those back home, for the temperature soared in the 90s but on the water it was quite tolerable. We finally reached the white buoy that was supposed to bring us fish, but sorry to say I think my son was sold someone's "fish story." After an hour of not even a nibble, we pulled up the anchor and headed for the green buoy between Robins Island and Nassau Point.This buoy has fond memo ries for me: As kids this was as far as our parents would let us go. In those days the buoy was painted black and was al- ways referred to as the "black buoy." We leisurely passed along the west side of Robins Island, then around the long sand spit to the north and then east to the green buoy. I was hanging my reputation on it. This was always a place you could catch fish. My losing a complete rig while trying to catch of bluefish needed a fish now; any kind fish would do. The anchor went out and the tide swung us to a tight and secure hold on the bottom. We were rigged for porgies and our lines went over baited with clams and squid that by now, with the heat, were starting to smell a bit. Paulie was the first to get a hit. His pole bent and jumped around as he reeled in. We all guessed. Porgy? Sand shark? (There are lots of them out here.) Or possibly a weakfish? Over the side it came —'a small weakfish. What a beautiful, silvery fish, speckled with gold, green, gray and yellow. What is its size? Today there are lim- its on the number of fish and the size of the fish you can take. Wiggling and slip- ping, it was laid on the measuring board — 15 3/4 inches — too small. Over the side it went. Then fish after fish came up, each one measured meticulously with hopes of finding a "keeper." But no, all were close but none made the mark; all had to be tossed overboard. I was pleased to see the small weakfish, for it meant spawning and growth were doing well. Some years we don't even see a weakfish. Yes, this was a good sign. Finally, after nine or 10 "shorts" that were thrown back, I caught one that just made the legal length. At last we wouldn't go back home empty- handed. The afternoon slipped away. All the food was gone and we all caught fish. What better way to spend a 90 -degree day than out on the water with your son and Grandson?