Back Beach
07-09-2005, 12:43 PM
By Neil Andreel, Associated Press
There’s a new force to be reckoned with on the local surfcasting scene here in the northeast. Commander McBragg, AKA “#^&#^&#^&#^&#^&#^&”, a Rhode Island surf legend in the making, spent a few hours with me recently at a top secret shoreline haunt. It was no easy task tracking this man down as we met deep in the bowels of Narragansett Bay in a boulder strewn location. He insisted the meeting must take place during the dark hours, and I would be monitored constantly to ensure no trailers followed us. As an additional measure, I was patted down prior to our arrival at spot “X” to ensure I had no electronic devices such as a pocket GPS in my possession.
“Most people think surfcasting is just a day at the beach with their feet up, and can’t figure out why they don’t produce big numbers”, #^&#^&#^&#^&#^&#^& began. “What most people don’t realize is that the recent shortage of striped bass, the northeast’s premier game fish, has come from my doing”, he adds. With this the first week of July, and the Massachusetts commercial striped bass season slated to begin on July 11th, #^&#^&#^&#^&#^&#^& plans nighttime commando trips into Massachusetts waters, and insists, “The Mass commercial guys are crapping their pants over this. I worked out a deal with the governor to allow me a special permit that will allow the taking of unlimited daily quantities of bass until the 1 million pound quota is met. I should have it all wrapped up in one week,” he chortled. As I probed deeper into this man’s mind, his entrepreneurial spirit began to show through. “My plan is to corner the market and reap untold profits from this operation”, he uttered under his breath while staring out into a star filled sky. “My lifetime dream of owning my own night club will finally become a reality. And guess what I’m going to name it?” says #^&#^&#^&#^&#^&#^&. I beckoned him to answer, and he belted out at the top of his lungs, shattering the deathly silence that surrounded us, “THE FIFTY CLUB, HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
There had to be more to this name origin, so I quizzed him up and down until, fighting tears, he revealed the true story. “A long time ago, I was pedaling my bike down route 1 in south county when out of nowhere comes a speeding truck with the words FRESH FISH on the side. The truck hit a pothole and flipped over like Rusty Wallace in the Daytona 500. Anyways, out flies this gigantic momma of a striped bass. I had never seen one that big before, so I take it to the weigh station and its over 50lbs! They ask me where I got it and I tell them I caught it on an eel in Westerly.” My heart nearly stopped. I couldn’t believe it. This was a fish tale larger than life itself. #^&#^&#^&#^&#^&#^& concluded that with the pending eel moratorium that his career was likely over after this season. “It won’t be easy, but tommy cocks and bluegills will be a challenge. Besides they love worms, and worms look like little baby eels,” he sniffed. Suddenly, I noticed a sudden seriousness and somber tone to his voice, “We have got to get the hell out of here, the sun’s coming up”. -AP
There’s a new force to be reckoned with on the local surfcasting scene here in the northeast. Commander McBragg, AKA “#^&#^&#^&#^&#^&#^&”, a Rhode Island surf legend in the making, spent a few hours with me recently at a top secret shoreline haunt. It was no easy task tracking this man down as we met deep in the bowels of Narragansett Bay in a boulder strewn location. He insisted the meeting must take place during the dark hours, and I would be monitored constantly to ensure no trailers followed us. As an additional measure, I was patted down prior to our arrival at spot “X” to ensure I had no electronic devices such as a pocket GPS in my possession.
“Most people think surfcasting is just a day at the beach with their feet up, and can’t figure out why they don’t produce big numbers”, #^&#^&#^&#^&#^&#^& began. “What most people don’t realize is that the recent shortage of striped bass, the northeast’s premier game fish, has come from my doing”, he adds. With this the first week of July, and the Massachusetts commercial striped bass season slated to begin on July 11th, #^&#^&#^&#^&#^&#^& plans nighttime commando trips into Massachusetts waters, and insists, “The Mass commercial guys are crapping their pants over this. I worked out a deal with the governor to allow me a special permit that will allow the taking of unlimited daily quantities of bass until the 1 million pound quota is met. I should have it all wrapped up in one week,” he chortled. As I probed deeper into this man’s mind, his entrepreneurial spirit began to show through. “My plan is to corner the market and reap untold profits from this operation”, he uttered under his breath while staring out into a star filled sky. “My lifetime dream of owning my own night club will finally become a reality. And guess what I’m going to name it?” says #^&#^&#^&#^&#^&#^&. I beckoned him to answer, and he belted out at the top of his lungs, shattering the deathly silence that surrounded us, “THE FIFTY CLUB, HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
There had to be more to this name origin, so I quizzed him up and down until, fighting tears, he revealed the true story. “A long time ago, I was pedaling my bike down route 1 in south county when out of nowhere comes a speeding truck with the words FRESH FISH on the side. The truck hit a pothole and flipped over like Rusty Wallace in the Daytona 500. Anyways, out flies this gigantic momma of a striped bass. I had never seen one that big before, so I take it to the weigh station and its over 50lbs! They ask me where I got it and I tell them I caught it on an eel in Westerly.” My heart nearly stopped. I couldn’t believe it. This was a fish tale larger than life itself. #^&#^&#^&#^&#^&#^& concluded that with the pending eel moratorium that his career was likely over after this season. “It won’t be easy, but tommy cocks and bluegills will be a challenge. Besides they love worms, and worms look like little baby eels,” he sniffed. Suddenly, I noticed a sudden seriousness and somber tone to his voice, “We have got to get the hell out of here, the sun’s coming up”. -AP