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June 14, 2001 - A boat, a fish, a perfect dayThe Suffolk Times • June 14, 2001 A boat, a fish, a Derfect da Suffolk Times photo by Barbara Stoutenburgh You can see from the photo above how the striper gets Its name. Remember, they must measure 28 Inches in length before you can call them keepers. I ASKED MY SON TO COME DOWN and give me a hand in launching our small 13 -foot Whaler. For some rea- son many of the jobs that were taken for granted years ago have now become a bit more difficult, and see- ing we'd have to back the trailer Focus down a 200 -f6'bt road to the ON launching area, NATURE I was counting on his expertise by Paul to handle that Stoutenburgh job. Sure enough, in no time we had the boat in the water and it was soon tied up at the dock, ready for use the next day. We had been having cloudy and rainv weather and the next day was no exception. Fog lay heavy over the pasture in back. Nevertheless, we thought we'd take advantage of the poor weather and do some of those mundane jobs, like returning cans and bottles, and grocery shopping. No sooner had we finished our chores than the skies brightened up and the fog burned off. It looked like we'd be able to get out in the boat after all. _ Barbara's an expert at putting a lunch together quickly, so while I gath- ered the fishing tackle box and poles she put up lunch with a few extra goodies tucked in. In no time we were ready to head out. As we walked across the lawn to the car, our feet were literally walking on soggy ground. Everything oozed with moisture. When will it ever stop? Nevertheless, we were going to take advantage of this break in the weather, even though the weath- erman still called for showers and thunderstorms later in the day. As we motored out of the creek we couldn't help but notice the two ospreys on the platform that sort of act an sentinels to our creek. And what's that? We could see two little heads. How they've been able to sur- vive through this cold, wet weather is hard to figure out. Dedication by the parent bird to keeping the young warm was priority number one for. them, I'm sure. By the time we got to the mouth of the creek the wind had come up, which meant we'd have to go slowly across the bay to the lee of the island where we had hoped to try a little fishing. Old Boston Whalers are great boats for calm weather, but they bounce your innards out in rough weather and by now the waves were pounding on the bow and throwing spray every which way. Slowly we moved across the bay with the sun now shining brightly. There were only one or two other boats in the bay besides ours. Forecasts of bad weathe for the weekend must have kept everyone at home. Finally we got in the lee of the sand spit and dropped the anchor. Here in the calm waters we'd have our lunch. A more pleasant place would be hard to find. There was only one other diehard boater anchored in the cove. The call of the terns chattering brought back fond memories of years ago when I sat in a blind (or hide) photographing terns nesting over on the Moriches flats. It was like a new world to me, camera in hand with a new telephoto lens and birds calling all about. Those were exciting times. Now, we were just sitting nearby and listen- ing to their calls as they came together and rested on the sand spit to the west. Along the water's edge were 15 or more turnstones, migratory shorebirds that were busy collecting the eggs of the horseshoe crabs that had not been buried. Sharp eyes would pick them out as the birds ran along the beach edge. Pretty remarkable; when you think how nature works. When the urge comes to nest and raise their young, shorebirds of all kinds that have wintered in the Caribbean and down along the shores of Central and South America, head north. They must have a ready supply of food along the way. One of their main sources of energy is found in horseshoe crab eggs. Horseshoe crabs have been around for over 200 million years. From Delaware Bay to Massachusetts, horseshoe crabs have come to the water's edge each spring to lay their eggs. The time coincides with the shorebirds moving north so they have their McDonalds and Burger Kings along the way in the form of the horse- shoe crab's BB -sized eggs. We saw ospreys sitting on the posts in back of the dunes. Their nests must have been nearby. We hope they did as well as the ones in our creek. With the anchor set, we enjoyed our lunch. The sparkling sea was all about us; terns, ospreys, gulls, shorebirds, all added their own call to our banquet. We have a canopy on our boat to keep the sun off, as we are finding we no longer believe in being sun wor- shippers, what with skin cancer becoming such a concern for every- one. So we sat in the shade eating our sandwiches and just enjoying the day. With lunch over, we pulled up anchor and slowly moved along the lee I of the shore to where last week, when we were sailing with our son, I had seen terns working. Sure enough, some were still there. Not a lot but enough to let us know something was below. Terns workine over the water and (living are true indicators that there are either weakfish, bluefish or striped bass below. So out came the fishing pole with a white bucktail attached and we started trolling. Every once in a while we could see where a fish broke the surface of the water. Like a flash, a tern was there to try to steal the bait. It's a continual eat -or -be -eaten legacy of the fish world that's been going on for millions of years. The second time we made a pass where the terns were diving, I had a strike, so, with the motor in neutral, I started reeling in. As I reeled in, the drag was set so that the fish could take it out again and we did this back - and -forth routine until the fish was finally worked up to the boat. We could see its silvery striped sides, its open mouth and its big eyes glaring at us. I put my hand in the water and lifted the beautiful but played -out fish into the boat. It was undersized, I was sure — somewhere around 18 inches long — so we let it go. As I released it, it made one quick swish of its tail and was gone. I had caught my fish. We had had our lunch out on the water. Now we were ready to head back home. What a joy it was to have the wind behind us and the waves rolling and pushing us along. Our first day out with the boat had brought us luck. It was too bad more people hadn't got- ten out to enjoy the splendor of the day. With the boat back at the dock, we felt satisfied as we piled into the car. Once again we were thankful to be living here on the North Fork, where fishing, boating and just enjoy- ing the wonders of the world around you can be had for those who will just take time and make the effort.