June 19, 1997 - A Beautiful Morning, A Fabulous FishJune, 19,, 1997. • The Suffolk Times • 7A
A Beautiful Morning, A Fabulous Fish
The wonders of Europe dazzled us but there's no place
like home. Sounds a bit corny but that old adage rang true
as we returned home last Sunday. It took us days for the
jet lag to wear off and in between we had to get out an
article for last week's paper. Then the two of us fell into
a sort of zombie existence as we mellowed back into life
on the East End. Thank goodness for computers, for with-
out that instant correction and
printout we would never have had �e�uS
our copy ready.
Once back on our feet and on
functioning like normal human
beings, we got around to the many Nature
jobs, paperwork and appointments
that seemed to absorb too much of by Paul
our time here at home. Of course, Stoutenburgh
during all this catching up I heard
continual rumors of the great fishing that was going on:
Fluke, bluefish, stripers and weakfish seemed to be back
in the bay and showing up in everyone's catch. Somehow
I had to find time to get out and try my luck.
A good friend of mine who lives on the bay called to
report that he had seen a few small schools of bunkers out
in front of his place and he was sure there were big fish
below them, for every once in a while he'd see a swirl
among them. I knew exactly what he was talking about for
last year I remember seeing the same thing and was lucky
enough to land a few nice ones. Perhaps history would
repeat itself. At any rate, Barbara and I needed a break so
I left word with Roy to call me the next time he saw signs
of schooling bunkers, no matter what time it was. Sure
enough, the next morning at 5:30 the phone rang and a
quiet voice reported, "They're out there." Needless to say
we were up and out of the house in no time.
Quiet Early Hours
Down at the dock the boat was dripping with early -
morning dew. A turn of the key and the outboard started
right off — it was a good sign. Five miles an hour in our
creek is a slow pace to travel when you are in a hurry but
then that's the law and I'm all for it. Once out of the creek
I advanced the throttle and the little "whaler" nosed up
and slowly leveled off on a plane so that we literally flew
across the bay to our rendezvous with the bunkers.
Once over in the cove I throttled back and idled along
among the now - moored boats that seemed asleep as the
rest of the world was at that hour. The water was still
and it seemed we were the only ones up and running.
The only light we could see was on a new home that evi-
dently had a series of security lights around it that went
on at dark and remained that way until morning. Then as
we sat in silence I heard that familiar sound of feeding
fish. Bunkers are filter feeders, which means they swim
with their mouths open, filtering out the rich plankton in
the water as they move through it. The largest amount of
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75 Years Ago
Suffolk Times photo by Barbara Stoutenburgh
BLUEFISH —All you need is just one of these
fighting never - give -up beauties to make your fish-
ing day. This is especially true when you take a
12- and -a- half - pounder on light tackle just as the
morning sun breaks through.
plankton is at the top where there's more light and so
they move in a tight school close to the surface. They
were so close their tails would occasionally come out of
the water. Of course, with such a mass of fish moving
about there is always a telltale ripple on the surface of
June 16, 1922
For Sale at a Bargain: On Shelter Island, 40 -acre
farm, two -story house, barn, team of horses, three milch
cows, two carriages, farm wagon and implements, harness.
Price $5,500.
Greenport News: A 50 -foot extension has been built
on the dock which extended out from the S.T. Preston & Son
store on lower Main Street. Dock builder H.H. Tuthill has
been doing the work.
50 Years Ago
June 20, 1947
Local Girls in Potato Queen Finals: The 10 offi-
cial candidates for the title of queen of the fast Long Island
Potato and Vegetable Harvest Festival to be held July 5 at
Riverhead include Miss Rachel Dickerson, daughter of Mr.
and Mrs. Elliott Dickerson of Shelter Island, and Miss Virginia
Hunter, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Albert Salmon of Southold.
Miss Dickerson's father is a prominent potato grower. She has
brown hair and brown eyes, weights 125 pounds and stands
five feet, five inches tall. Miss Hunter, a graduate last June of
Southold High School, is employed as a salesgirl at a women's
wear store in Greenport. She teaches a Sunday school class
and has as her hobbies dress designing and dancing.
Greenport Dump Closed: The present municipal
the water as they slowly move along.
This was just what we were waiting for so I got ready
for the next phase of our adventure and that was to hook a
bunker for bait. I would cast into the school and snag one
as I drew my line back in jerks. Sure enough, on the third
cast I brought one in, its sleek silvery body bloody from
the hook that had caught it. I had previously made up a
large hook with a steel leader in anticipation of using a
bunker for bait and so I proceeded to hook the bunker in
the same general way I hook spearing for snapper fishing,
that is, in the mouth, out the gills and into the tail. Now we
had to sit and wait and see if any fish were milling below.
Five minutes went by. We watched a snowy egret hunt-
ing for his breakfast in the nearby marsh. Then an osprey
flew by. He was headed out to fish for he had young back
at the nest eagerly waiting to be fed. Then it happened!
There was a swirl, combined with a rush of frenzied fish
radiating out from the attack point. A big fish had made
its move on the bunkers; that was enough for me.
Live Bunker For Bait
I cast my bunker right where I had seen the swirling
fish. Down it sank. I reeled it in slowly but nothing hap-
pened. I cast it again and reeled it in slowly. This time
there was a strike. I jerked the line back. For a minute I
had a fish, but then it was gone. I started reeling in slow-
ly and the fish came back again, more determined than
ever for his early - moming meal. The adrenaline brought
me to my feet as I hooked into the tiger below. The line
zinged out against the drag I had set.
How could a fish pull so much? Like all fishermen since
the beginning of time, I said to myself, "Stay on there; line
don't break and please hook don't bend and remember to
take your time." I worked him in closer and closer but
each time I brought him in near the boat he would dive and
take more line out. Once I could see his tail as he came to
the surface. It was a big fish but down again it dove, the
line cutting the water clean, leaving hardly a trace on the
mirrored surface. Barbara by now was beside herself.
"Don't lose it! Don't lose it," she called as she got the net
ready. Once we saw it right alongside the boat, its silvery-
green shape flashing, but just for a moment. As soon as he
saw he landing net he dove and the reel squealed once
more as the line went out. My pole almost doubled up. I
remembered my father telling me, "Always keep his head
up," as I held the pole high towards the sky.
By now he was getting tired and so was I. Never had I
seen such a big fish in such a small confined area with
water less than six feet deep. As I worked him closer to
the boat Barbara was doubly ready with the net and slid it
under him, but he'd have no part of it. There was a thrash
and he was gone. He was still hooked so I slowly reeled
in as he stubbornly resisted. Barbara was dead serious this
time and made sure he didn't get away. The fish was so
heavy she had trouble lifting it into the boat. Once it was
landed, we sat down panting over our
prize. Its huge jaw snapped as its power-
dump on Youngs Avenue, Greenport, will be officially closed
on Saturday of this week, June 21, and all further dumping of
garbage and trespassing on the property will be forbidden. A
new disposal site further removed from the village will be
made available on the north side of Monsell Trail in the rear
of the school property.
25 Years Ago
June 22, 1972
Waterfront Plan for Village: Plans to make
Greenport "another Italian or French Riviera" were presented to
the Greenport Village Planning Board Monday night. And they
left the village fathers looking as though they had asked for a bit
of whipped cream and got the whole strawberry shortcake.
Architects George Knafo and C.M Serra hung' an elegant
drawing illustrating their ideas for Greenport-of- the - future in
the board room while Mr. Knafo started to tell Greenporters-
of- the - present that they were allowing their historic village
to die by turning their backs on its most attractive asset, the
waterfront.
He proposed a waterfront area with outdoor cafes, a kiosk,
sculptures floating in the water, fountains and waterplays,
covered arcades and walks, elimination of overhead wiring
and the transformation of Front Street into a landscaped mall
roofed at least halfway with Plexiglas and many other ideas
that left usually voluble villagers in the room with few ques-
tions and little breath.
ful tail beat the bottom of the boat. It was
a beautiful thing but I could see how it
would terrify any fish that got in its way.
As I tried to dislodge the hook, its large
jaw chomped down and remained closed
no matter how I tried to open it. It fought
back with its last bit of strength.
Back home we weighed our catch in at
12 and a half pounds. Probably there have
been many larger blues caught, but this
one gave us the thrill of catching one of
the big ones. It will be recorded on the
garage wall along with other catches over
the years. There were many sights and
wonderful experiences on our trip to
Europe, but we'll not soon forget the
excitement of that early- morning fishing
trip when most of the world was still
asleep. You can't beat the East End as a
place to live and enjoy.
We put the North Fork
on your plate.
The Suffolk Times.