March 30, 2006 - Ah, those bygone boating days8A - The Suffolk Times • March 30, 2006
Ali, those bygone boat-iiiig days
I curss rr is orris human nature
to look back at the things that once
brought us pleasure, no matter where
we were, or when. A perfect example
of those "look back" times was when
I was in the service. No matter where
it was, be it those harsh boot -camp
days or holding on to a life raft after
our ship was sunk, it was always the
ability to "look back" that gave me
comfort during those low days away
from home.
Many of those "look back" days
had to do with the seasons — sum-
mer, fall, winter, spring — each time
frame would bring back the wouders
of home. Springtime has always been
a special time of
remembrance,
Focus like now, for it
ON brings back a
renewed world
MATURE from what bad
been held in
winter's wi
by Paul In the ea y
Stoutenburgh days of March,
when there was
a thaw for two or three days, rd get
itchy to get my boat ready for launch-
ing Paint, caulking, scrapers, hydrau-
lic jacks, rollers, planks and, most of
A a gathering of friends to help; ev-
erything came together on that special
day of launching.
Every fall I'd haul the old "Putt
Putt" out to save her from winter's
crushing ice and howling winds. The
spot chosen to haul her out was in a
sort of ravine that seemed to fit her
shape and personality.
I don't remember when or by whom
she was first celled the Putt Putt, but
everyone knew her as that. I suppose
the name of Putt Putt came from the
huge one - cylinder Grey marine en-
gine that pushed her along with that
familiar "putt-putt" sound.
Her bull dated back to the era of
sail for she was originally designed and
built as a catboat, and I mean built, for
she had two-inch white oak ribs and
was planked in one -inch white cedar.
She must have been a smart - looking
boat in her day. When I bought her for
$25, she had already been converted to
power, her only reference to sail being
her unmi takable catboat shape and
her huge barn -door rudder.
I tell you all this even though it was
some 60 years ago, as those memories
have given me much comfort through
a
Y.
51 photo by Paul Stoutenburgh
L'tVk Times photo by To Gerdy
the years What spurred my thinking
back all those years was the fact that
today is the first day of spring, which
brings back many memories of boat -
launching times.
My memory bank glows with those
carefree days when the Putt Putt was
called on to take us on all sorts of
outings, such as the many trips out to
the black buoy (that is now green) for
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Above: There
was a time In
the early spring
when you could
go down to the
channel and be
relatively sure
of getting a few
weakfish. Those
days have gone,
yet each spring
we try again in
hopes of their
return. Left:
While In Florida
our older son,
Peter, caught
this spotted sea -
trout that
replaces our
weakfish In the
south. It has
that same silvery
body and colors
but has the addl-
tlon of dark spots
sprinkled along
Its sties.
porgies, kingfish (we never see them
anymore), an occasional weakfish,
and what we'd call a sand shark. I can
still feel that gray sandpaper skin of
those pesky bait stealers.
Then there'd be those night session
of spearing eels We'd bang a hissing
gaslight over the bow to see the eels a
one person stood at the bow with the
eel spear poised for ac-
tion while the other stood
in the stem, steering with
that long tiller that guid-
ed us in and around our
choice eeling spots.
Then there was the
great adventure of three
days with my good friend
Harry Waite. He and us on all
took the Putt Putt on a of cv' ,i�F
fishing trip around the
East End islands (Re-
member, our power was only a one -
c)linder engine.) All went well until
the motor quit, and since our sleeping
quarters were a little tight, we decided
to go ashore and sleep on the beach.
Whether the engine needed a rest or
what we never knew, but she started
up the next morning and we contin-
ued our trip homeward in an all-day
downpour.
But the memories that stand out
above all the rest are of when Harry
and I would drop an anchor in the
mouth of the creek and fish for
weakfish in the darkness. Those were
magical times Night after night, we'd
fish by ourselves in the channel, using
squid for bait.
We had a one - burner alcohol stove
that brewed the best coffee a fisher-
man could ask for. In those early days
of the '40s we always seemed to get
weakfish, and those night fishing trips
made a lasting impression on me so
it was natural that on this first day
of spring my mind wandered back to
those silvery fish that brought us so
much pleasure.
I believe weakfish come to our
creeks to spawn, for the fish we
caught often had roe in them. And
was that roe good eating, especially
when your mother knew just how to
cook it. Another reason I believed
weakfish used our creeks as spawning
or nursery areas was that later, when
we went snapper fishing, we'd often
catch baby weakfisb five inches to six
inches long
We're told that weakfish can be
found in season from Nova Scotia to
Florida but are most abundant from
New York to North Carolina They
are a member of the drum family,
which means they vocalize with drum-
ming or croaking sounds I can vouch
for that, for Pve often heard this odd
grunting sound when they first landed
in the boat.
Weakfish can live to 17 years of age.
Again, I believe it, for I once speared
an 11 V2 -pound weakfish while eel-
Big that I presumed must have been
at least 10 to 15 years old. Previous
to that I can remember seeing the
tide runners that at one time were
caught off the beach at the mouth of
the creek.Those were the days of the
party boats. Everything that would
float was used to carry the city people
out to Roses Grove for a day's fishing.
The boats would come back with a
hundred fish or more. It was the hey-
day of party -boat fishing in our bays.
From then on, there has been a grad-
ual decline in the number of weakfish
caught. It's so had that when a boat
comes in now with a few weakfish, it's
big fishing news. Wouldn't it be nice to
have those special days back again?
Down in Florida they catch a fish
that looks almost identi-
cal to our weakfish. It has
that same silvery body
th and colors but with the
addition of dark spots
sprinkled along its sides,
which gives it the lo-
cal name of spotted sea
trout.
Sorts Whether its up north
3. or down south, both spe-
cies of fish feed on the
same type of prey. The
juveniles take small fish like spear-
ing, shrimp, anchovies, etc., while the
adults feed on menhaden, squid and
a wide variety of other fish, including
their own.
Whether you catch a weakfish in our
local waters or are lucky enough to
catch a spotted sea trout down south,
they're both sporting fish to catch and
an excellent fish for your table.
My memory
baaki glawS Wt
those carefree
days When the
Plitt Mitt toots
The Suffolk Times •March 30, 2006 those
ygone
oatl*n
1954 photo by Paul Stoutenburgh
Above: There
was a time in
the early spring
when you could
go down to the
channel and be
relatively sure
of getting a few
weakfish. Those
days have gone,
yet each spring
we try again in
hopes of their
return. Left:
While in Florida
our older son,
Peter, caught
this spotted sea -
trout that
replaces our
weakfish in the
south. It has
that same silvery
body and colors
but has the addi-
tion of dark spot:
sprinkled along
Tom
ays
I GUESS IT IS ONLY human nature
to look back at the things that once
brought us pleasure, no matter wher
we were, or when. A perfect example
of those "look back" times was when
I was in the service. No matter where
it was, be it those harsh boot -camp
days or holding on to a life raft after
our ship was sunk, it was always the
ability to "look back" that gave me
comfort during those low days away
from home.
Many of those "look back" days
had to do with the seasons — sum-
mer, fall, winter, spring — each time
frame would bring back the wonders
of home. Springtime has always been
a special time of
remembrance,
Focus like now, for it
brings back a
ON renewed world
NATURE from what had
been held in
by Paul Winter's grip.
Stoutenburgh In the early
days of March,
when there was
a thaw for two or three days, I'd get
itchy to get my boat ready for launch-
ing. Paint, caulking, scrapers, hydrau-
lic jacks, rollers, planks and, most of
all, a gathering of friends to help; ev-
erything came together on that special
day of launching.
Every fall I'd haul the old "Putt
Putt" out to save her from winter's
crushing ice and howling winds. The
spot chosen to haul her out was in a
sort of ravine that seemed to fit her
shape and personality.
I don't remember when or by whom
she was first called the Putt Putt, but
everyone knew her as that. I suppose
the name of Putt Putt came from the
huge one - cylinder Grey marine en-
gine that pushed her along with that
familiar "putt- putt" sound.
Her hull dated back to the era of
sail for she was originally designed and
built as a catboat, and I mean built, for
she had two -inch white oak ribs and
was planked in one -inch white cedar.
She must have been a smart- looking
boat in her day. When I bought her for
$25, she had already been converted tc
power, her only reference to sail being
her unmistakable catboat shape and
her huge barn -door rudder.
I tell you all this even though it was
some 60 years ago, as those memories
have given me much comfort through
the years. What spurred my thinking
back all those years was the fact that
today is the first day of spring, which
brings back many memories of boat -
launching times..
My memory bank glows with those
carefree days when the Putt Putt was
called on to take us on all sorts of
outings, such as the many trips out to
the black buoy (that is now green) for
porgies, kingfish we never see them
anymore), an occasional weakfish,
and what we'd call a sand shark. I can
still feel that gray sandpaper skin of
those pesky bait stealers.
Then there'd be those night sessions
of spearing eels. We'd hang a hissing
gaslight over the bow to see the eels as
one person stood at the bow with the-
eel spear poised for ac-
tion while the other stood
in the stern, steering with
that long tiller that guid-
ed us in and around our
choice eeling spots.
Then there was the
great adventure of three
days with my good friend
Harry Waite. He and I
took the Putt Putt on a
fishing trip around the
East End islands. (Re-
member, our power was only a one-
cylinder engine.) All went well until
the motor quit, and since our sleeping
quarters were a little tight, we decided
to go ashore and sleep on the beach.
Whether the engine needed a rest or
what we never knew, but she started
up the next morning and we contin-
ued our trip homeward in an all-day
But the memories that stand out
above all the rest are of when Harry
and I would drop an anchor in the
mouth of the creek and fish for
weakfish in the darkness. Those were
magical times. Night after night, we'd
fish by ourselves in the channel, using
squid for bait.
We had a one - burner alcohol stove
that brewed the best coffee a fisher-
man could ask for. In those early days
of the '40s we always seemed to get
weakfish, and those night fishing trips
made a lasting impression on me so
it was natural that on this first day
of spring my mind wandered back to
those silvery fish that brought us so
much pleasure.
I believe weakfish come to our
creeks to spawn, for the fish we
caught often had roe in them. And
was that roe good eating, especially
when your mother knew just how to
cook it. Another reason I believed
weakfish used our creeks as spawning
or nursery areas was that later, when
we went snapper fishing, we'd often
catch baby weakfish five inches to six
inches long.
We're told that weakfish can be
found in season from Nova Scotia to
Florida but are most abundant from
New York to North Carolina. They
are a member of the drum family,
which means they vocalize with drum-
ming or, croaking sounds. I can vouch
for that, for I've often heard this odd
grunting sound when they-first landed
in the boat.
My memory
bank glows with
those carefree
days when the
Putt Putt took
us on all sorts
of outings.
weakfish can live to 17 year
Again, I believe it, forrI once speared
an 11 1/2 -pound weakfish while eel -
ing that I presumed must have been
at least 10 to 15 years old. Previous
to that I can remember seeing the
tide runners that at one time were
caught off the beach at the mouth of
the creek. Those were the days of the
party boats. Everything that would
float was used to carry the city people
out to Roses Grove for a day's fishing.
The boats would'come back with a
hundred fish or more. It was the hey-
day of party -boat fishing in our bays.
From then on, there has been a grad-
ual decline in the number of weakfish
caught. It's so bad that when a boat
comes in now with a few weakfish, it's
big fishing news. Wouldn't it be nice to
have those special days back again?
D lorida they catch a fish
that looks almost identi-
cal to our weakfish. It has
that same silvery body
and colors but with the
addition'of dark spots
sprinkled along its sides,
which gives it the lo-
cal name of spotted sea
trout.
Whether it's up north
or down south, both spe-
cies of fish feed on the
same type of prey. The
juveniles take small fish like spear-
ing, shrimp, anchovies, etc., while the
adults feed on menhaden, squid and
a wide variety of other fish, including.
their own.
Whether you catch a weakfish in o
local waters or are lucky enough to
-atch a spotted sea trout down south,
`.hey're both sporting fish to; catch and
in excellent fish for your table.