its too hot and cranky lately......so on a lighter note (and the fact that I cant sleep AGAIN....:rolleyes: )...

whats your most fond fishin memory/memories?????

mine would have to be the whole stretch from when I was about 4 to about 12 ....fishing on the Cape with my father......it was about the only thing we did together that DIDNT include stacking wood or pulling weeds:p :p :p :rolleyes: ) to this day I STILL think about those times often.....and have even called him from the beach just to talk and chat!!!!( my only regret is that I didnt pay more attention to details at the time!!! HA!HA!)

THATS A NICE MEMORY VERRY NICE DONT GET ANY BETTER THAN THAT,

hey...thanks....but now I want to hear yours too! c'mon!;)

Ahh memories:) 40 years ago I spent my summers on Great Herring pond in Plymouth. On weekends when my father would come down we would head out early and catch a bunch of white perch, pull up to our favorite point, start a fire and cook the fish in a cast iron pan for breakfast. We always had bacon and eggs for backup but rarely used them:D. Next is maybe 9 yrs ago on Nantucket (my sister lived there, couldn't afford it otherwise:) )We went on a 2 hr charter on a great boat and Me'n Pop got the only 2 keepers on the boat. Last one is a couple of months ago. I took my father on a 4x4 trip to Duxbury beach. We picked up a couple of schoolies and at high tide we got a 29" . Dads 85 years old so i set the hook and gave it to him to reel in. The look on his face was priceless, man was he happy! That 29" fish was a TROPHY in my book..:happy:

My dad (rip) got me addicted to fishing at a real young age.
He would take me everywhere. Smelting, bluefishing, scup, (cape)flounder and mackeral in quincy bay by the bussell.
He even took me on a row boat in the shipping channel in the mediterranian ( i was like 8), what did I know.
he bought our first boat in 1971 a 15 ft MFG. we took it everywhere.
I still have it and even has a new engine. But I dont use it cause I got a 21' which is better for the ocean.
I think of selling it, but can't bring myself to do it cause of all the memories we had on it.
Nearly swamping it comes to mind. He was sometimes more excited to fish than cautious.
But we would have some great talks about everything while fishing, it was the only time he would open up with me.
Good memories.
:happy:

Back in the old days before I graduated from high school .My uncle Al had a camp in the Worcester surf casters club. He used to let me and someof my brothers stay with him for a week or 2 over the summer. It was within walking distance of the train bridge and we used to walk down and hit almost every tide . When the weather was better we would go out in his boat ,originally he had a 18 foot thompson's inc wooden boat with a Ray Jefferson flashing depth sounder. He knew every rock in the hayfield and he could read that flasher better than most people can read the new type. He would make a pass over a spot and give us the "there they are" we'd count to 3 and boom someone would have one on. Other boats would be riding up our 6 and getting zip.

That's a real tough one in a good sense... alot of great fishing memories.

This isn't really a specific instance, but fall trips to Lake Weslemkoon, Ontario with my dad, uncle and two cousins. No one on the lake but us. Lots of bass. Leaves, campfires, cold weather... foggy mornings. A couple trips stand out, but they were all great. We were all very close, and my cousins were as close to brothers as I had.

Close second, trips to Nantucket in the fall (including my hunnymoon)... there's no one on the island and the weather is still fantastic. These are more family vacations with fishing versus fishing vacations, but I get chills every year when my tires first hit the sand. I absolutely love cruising up Madaket beach to Smith Point early in the morning scanning the surf for any signs of fish.

Probably my most memorable day was last March down in Florida. After a long winter, we got a break. We chartered a flats boat sight fishing for redfish. The weather was awesome, the guide was really cool (now a friend), we saw bunches of dolphins first thing in the morning. Karen and I both caught some decent fish (our first reds), and in general, just had a great day together.

I have some great bass tournament memories... I won one local chapter tournament with two fish in the last 20 min. including one on my "last cast"... the previous fish had been 5lbs and also won the lunker pool. My dad and I won a $1k bucks placing 3rd in a charity MDA buddy tournament. There were over 150 teams and we weighed in with the early group. I still remember how tense it was waiting what seemed like forever for all the teams to weigh in. We were first for the longest time and one of the final 3 or 4 teams knocked us out of 2nd by a couple ounces. It was really fun.

Most memorable fish... I'd have to say a 24lber I caught off of Brant Point (nantucket) on an eel in September '98. Why memorable? '98 was my first year of serious striper fishing, that was my first respectable fish and my first respectable fish on an eel. My fishing partner and I had a very frustrating summer and our families hooked up for a week in Nantucket. I think it was the first morning and we didn't get a real early start, maybe 7am. He was jonesin' for a coffee and was out of smokes, so he dropped me off. A few minutes later I caught what for me at that time, was a huge fish. On the way in, my partner ran into a guy who saw me get the fish. I had told the guy my buddy had gone to get coffee and he let him know I was done for the day. It is still probably my favorite fish.

Very tough question, but an excellent one... thanks Jenn.

Great question - brings up a fond memory. Around 1969 or so I was eleven and living pretty much a Huck Finn-like existence on Bass River mostly in a small red plywood rowboat I went everywhere in. I had heard and read about bass but never seen one. One day we were goofing around the town dock by the bridge and my eye caught something in the water up by Shamrock Point. It was like "boom" everything I'd committed to memory came together. It was fish breaking the surface. I grabbed my rod and reel and a couple Rebels I had and rowed up to the edge of the boiling water. You could see them breaking the surface for baitfish. Two casts and something hit-hard. Whatever it was it was bigger than any sea robin or scup I'd hooked previously. Besides the birth of my two girls and my wedding day, I don't suppose I have ever been in a such a state of euphoria and excitement at the same time in my life. I played the fish like I'd been taught and a few minutes later found myself staring down at about 18 inches of a beautiful striped bass. Nothing could compare to the way I felt at that exact moment and no doubt that memory is what keeps me coming back to try for another.

I remembered another day. We were icefishing me smokie a few friends and a few more brothers. Fishing was kind of slow so I pulled out the jigger stick. Up til now never had caught anything on the stick but it was there when you got bored. I dropped it down soon as it hit bottom got a perch. After about 5 re-enactments of the drop it in and pull out a fish ,one of the crew said "hey let me try that". After we realized that 6 people and one jig stick weren't a good match I jumped in the car and ran home. FOund all the old fishing poles and cut up an old broom into 6" pieces drilled a hole in the broom and jammed the pole in it. Banged 2 nails in ,alittle line and ....jig stick. When I got back they were still fighting over the one jig stick . We caught as many as we could clean went home and had a hugh perch fry.

Van, I know what you mean about the boat.

two years ago, I bought my uncle's 16' aluminum bass tracker. In '85, my dad and uncle got matching boats with 18hp mercs. I remember thinkin' they were such nice boats and were really fast.

We grew up fishing in flat bottom john boats with my grandpa's 6hp johnson.

Anyway, when my dad started to make some money at the end of the 80's, he graduated to some bigger bass boats. My uncle kept his and bought a whaler.

I used my uncle's boat more than he did and used it for tournaments and stuff and when he decided to get rid of it, I grabbed it off him quick. I absolutely love that boat and did pretty well out of it on the harbor when I finally got the guts up to take it out last season.

But now I have the Logic and I really don't need two boats. It only costs me $50 a year to keep it, but my wife wants me to get it out of the garage. I agree. I entertained thoughts of fixing it up better for saltwater use and keeping it at my mom's new house down in Eastham, but with the twins coming, I can't really justify dropping any money into it.

I think I'm gonna try and sell it, but it turns my stomach... know what I mean.

Jenn ,,Baby couldn,t resist


Many years ago around 17 or 18 I had what I thought was a nice car,a day girl and fishing pole, We wrer fishing at sticky ,green Roger williams Park it was a nice gay and we were catching smakk white perch,
well she got board,so I tolg her to take the car, no ---------------- after a while she got brazen, and askrd if i wanted - - - - , WEll so much for fishing-----------

I.jj never forget it, ands is still ihe best BITE I,ve ever had fishing -----------------------------


:smash: :smash: :happy: :happy: :smash:

Clamdigger:
I had a couple of those times in my younger days.
:D :D :D :D :D :D ;) ;) ;)

Say no more..;)

after a while she got brazen, and askrd if i wanted - - - - , WEll so much for fishing-----------

what the hecks a matta with her???!!!! bored with fishing/catchin???!!!! LOL thats too funny!!!! (BTW how ya doin bud???)

thanks for the stories.......had to change the mood a little! good stories ....I feel all warm & fuzzy now.....:D :D ;)

hangin in there,but thats a matter of opionion :o :smash: :smash: :smash: :smash:

thanks for asking, hoping to make the 4th leg and see some friends/notconcerned with fishing //////////
later

A couple of years ago when I first got my boat. I couldn't catch a striper with dynamite. So after going out about two dozen times, hauling all my friends along, many of whom vowed not to fish with me again because I sucked so bad, fate intervined. I went down the Cape on vacation. I was at Rock Harbor with my father in law walking along the docks when all of the sudden a string of expletatives that would make a drill sargent blush rang out into the warm summer air. It was an older gent, a charter captain whose charter did not show up and did not call. Needless to say he was pissed. Being a bargin hunter I asked him if I payed the difference could me and my father in-law go out. We cut a deal and off we went. While heading up he called me up to the bridge. I made a decsion at that point to swallow my pride and tell him I couldn't catch a striper in a bathtub with a net. He smiled and said well, "We' ll put an end to that crap." Told me to go below and get a pencil and pad off his chart table. He then gave me step by step instructions on how and why of striper fishing. methods, structure, tides, currents, everything. I wrote 15 pages of notes. He had a lot of info as he been a charter captain for 50 of his 72 years. That day I got my biggest fish ever 48 1/2 and two other cows. When I got back home I studied his notes and never looked back. Everytime I haul in a nice fish I thank God for that day. Amen Thanks to you Capt Stu.





:D

When I was a kid (probably about 14 - 15 years old) my family kept a summer cottage on the water in Greenport, NY -- out near Orient Point. Each summer, I would stay out there for the season, and become a bona fide fishing nut as a result.

As I got a little older and was sent to work, I would spend my weeks working at the local supermarket in the meat department. My job was to clean up the place after hours. I usually had the weekends off, as the butchers only cut meat during the week, so I would head out to the summer house for a weekend of fishing.

Well, one Saturday evening as all the "grown ups" were partying in the cottages, I was fishing off the local inlet (which had a pier), and decided to try to live-line a snapper (for those not familair with a snapper, it is what NYers call a baby bluefish -- I haven't heard "snapper" used in NE since I've been here the past 15 years). Well deep into the night as I was half asleep, something came along and "BAM" took the snapper and ran like hell. Eventually it took the snapper, hook and all as the line snapped. I couldn;t see what it was as it was late at night, but I heard an aweful lot of splashing and thrashing. I ran back to tell all the parents, but they all said "Yeah sure. Typical fishing story when no one else is there to see it" -- or something to that effect, and dismissed me.

So, ever the enthusiastic fisherman, whatever it was that grabbed my bait caught my attention. It got me to thinking (which is pretty dangerous stuff in my case). So the next week at work, I took a small bucket and filled it with blood from the meat packages. I then took a chunk of meat and tied it to the end of a string. I then dangled the string with the meat in the bucket of blood, covered the bucket, and placed the entire apparatus in the freezer. I ended up with a block of blood ice with a chunk of meat in the middle suspended by a ball of string.

So off to my favorite pier I go again that weekend, only this time with heavier gear. I recruit my younger brother and my cousin to come along this time and see if we can catch whatever was lurking in the dark, deep waters off that pier. Over the pier goes the "blood chunk of ice" and my line with another live snapper. attached.

1 hour -- nothing. Two hours -- nothing. As happens, the three of us get to talking and only half paying attention to the rod in my hands. Out of nowhere "BAM". My roid bends in half, and line starts peeling out of the inlet towards open waters. Needless to say we all come out of our half stupper and are now in full adrenaline rush mode. My cousin grabs the flashlight we had brought with us, and points it in the water at my line. I am holding on to my rod as the line strips out, and all we can see is the end of the line against the black water.

I ran to the end of the pier as far as I could without going into the drink. On the one side of the pier was a beach, so we had decided in advance that we would try to land any fish we caught off the beach. We nominated my younger brother as the net man, me as the angler, and my cousin as the "flashlight" guy. Whatever was on the other end was in a hurry to get out to deep water.

My younger brother starts to get into the water with the K-Mart special net we brought with us. He's in a ready position to net whatever I can get close to the shore. About 30 minutes goes by in a stalemate betwen myself and this great unknown. Suddenly, the line slackens. But my "flashlight" guy was good that night, and we coud see that the great beast was toying with us. Sure he was still hooked, but by now he had had enough trying to run from us, and figured his best chance was to run at us. And he ran at us very quickly heading right for the beach. Fortune seemed to be on our side.

I'll never forget the look on my younger brother's face -- knee deep in the water off the beach -- when the flashlight cast the first light on the dorsal fin as it emerged from the water -- heading right for him. Remind you, this was probably 1979 right around the time of the Jaws phenomenom. He rightly threw the net as he began his escape plan out of the water.

As the beast charged for my brother, he -- LITERALLY -- ran across the top of the water as fast as his legs could take him away from the shark. The shark was chasing him along the beach in about 2 feet of water, and he ran like hell. I still have the image of him "running on top of the water -- like Jesus" to get away from that shark.

Eventually, I got the shark to the beach, and as luck would have it my leader snapped the minute he got on the sand -- from his weight. But that didn;t stop us from landing him. As quick as could be, I grabbed a nearby bucket and put it over the sharks head and sat on it! My cousin grabbed his tail and swung him completely onshore away from the water. We had landed a 6 foot sand shark!

Well, no parents were gonna make fun of us this time. I'll never forget the looks on their faces, as they were partying that Saturday evening as well, and the three of us walked in and dropped a 6 foot shark on thier table. No one ever doubted us again.

Needless to say, I was told to never chum for sharks off the pier next to the beach anymore. But I can assure you, after that fateful August evening in 1979, well as Quint would say in Jaws..."I'll never wear a life jacket again".

Thanks Kevin -- my cousin, and Chris - my brother -- for being there to share this great memory with -- and whose help was vital to landing this puppy.

homerun ....too funny!


hoping to make the 4th leg and see some friends/notconcerned with fishing //////////

WHA-???!!!! yer sposed to FISH at these things???heh..heh...heh

While I'm in a sharing mood for stories.....:)

I come from a fairly avid family of fishermen. Some of the guys in the family have fished all over the world, and we have fished for pretty much most sport species available. Well my grandfather is the patriarch of our fishing family, and he is perhaps the most avid fisherman of us all. He is 86 years old now, and still travels the world fishing for serious gamefish. If his name wasn't John, I would swear he was Ernest Hemingway.

Well, now to my story. Every year for the past 8 years or so, my family arranges several fishing trips a year -- more as a way to get together then anything else. Since I live here on the East Coast, it has become my job to set up the annual tuna fishing trip off the RI coast every September. This usually involves chartering 4 - 5 boats as I have 15 guys come in from all over the world for the event (uncles in Hong Kong, cousin in Paris, cousins and uncles in Seattle, Milwaukee, Houston, NC, etc).

A few years back as I was setting up the trip, I starting wondering about my grandfather and his ability -- at the age of 83 -- to handle any kind of tuna fish, let alone the 300+ pounders we had cuaght in the past. We never use a chair, and always catch our fish standing with a gimbel belt (well, usually I should say). I debated whether I should invite him or not, and spoke to my Uncle (his son) at length. I really wanted him there, but was afraid a 100 pound blue fin might really be too much for him, and he would get hurt -- as I know he would NEVER come off a fish no matter how hard it would be for him. So, taking the sage advice of my Uncle, I spoke to my grandfather and explained my position. I really wanted him to come, but wanted to make sure he would be "up" for it. He was kind and let me off the hook by thanking me for the invitation, but by also telling me that he already had plans for that particular weekend (Sept. 12 - 13) to go fishing off the Azore Islands in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

Well our trip comes and passes and the "team" that made it had a great time landing 50+ pound bluefins.

About 5 days later, on September 18, in the mail, I get an 8" X 11" envelope with the inscription, "Pictures - Do Not Bend" written all over the front. Curious, I open the envelope. Boy was I in for a surprise.

Inside the envelope was a picture of my grandfather, with his fishing pole in hand, next to ----and this is not a typo -- a 952 pound giant blue marlin he landed that very same weekend we were tuna fishing. In the picture he is giving me the "bird -- middle finger", and the only hand-written note in the envelope says, "Old man my ass. Love Grandpa".

Needless to say, I will never doubt this man. To this day, we still fish all over the world, and he is there side by side with all the younger guys EASILY outfishing us. I have a "Wall of Fame" for all fishing pictures in my house, and his Blue Marlin is in the center position.

"Old man my ass. Love Grandpa".

after reading BOTH stories.......I really had to laugh......first no body believed the "kids fish stories" and then full circle to the "kids" not believing in their elders????!!!!!!!!

(hearty laugh) kinda ironic no???;) ;) :D :p

As we all know who regularly post to this site, fishing can teach us an aweful lot about life....if we only pay attention.

For example, I have a dear relative of mine who swears he goes fishing to catch fish. If he relaxes in the process that is icing on the cake.

Me -- on the other hand -- I fish to relax. If I catch fish, then that is icing on the cake.

Glass appears half full for some, while half empty for others, I guess......

Homerun,

Classic story... "old man my ass" complete with the bird... you definitely deserved it.

That's awesome.

Fishing is one of the greatest sources of "razzing" between family and friends that fish. Your grandpa sounds like a master.

My Grandfather TAUGHT the masters how to raze others....a legend for everyone who has ever met him.

And like all the greats, he enjoys receiving it as much as dishing it out....

Just for Jenn -- I'll post my last (sorry for boring you all) fish story......

If you read my previous post you might remember I have been tuna fishing off the coast of RI for the past 10 years or so. Like all anglers, however, there was a time when I was REALLY a rookie (not that I think I have left my rookie status when it comes to tuna's). As such, I will always remember the day I lost my tuna fishing virginity off the RI coast.

It started one beautiful early September day 10 years ago. My neighbor, and close friend of mine, had invited me to go tuna fishing with him and a few of his work buddies. It seems that for the past several years they had made an annual event out of a tuna charter, but for some reason they were one guy short this year. Well, no need to ask me twice if I want to go fishing. Excitedly, we loaded in the SUV at 3:30 am and headed down to Snug Harbor to meet our charter -- with a stop at Snoopy's Diner for a good helping of grease (gotta love the feeling of greasy bacon and eggs after bobbing up and down 60 miles off shore for 8 hours!).

Well, being the "virgin" tuna fisherman, the guys were kind enough to position me as "lead-#^&#^&#^&#^& batter in our lineup -- meaning I had the honor of the first fish. We then had my neighbor as second (as he was next in minimum experience), and so on. Our #6 angler probably had 7 years tuna experience under his belt, so he was kind enough to wait his turn for the rest of us to get our chances.

So after about an hour of chumming and chunking, as luck would have it we get our first strike. Without hesitating too much -- and before I knew what was happening to me -- the mate on the boat had a gimbel belt around my waist and was handing me the pole. Awesome, I thought, my first tuna.

Immediatley as the mate let go of the pole and placed it in my hands, the rod slammed down against the gunnel of the boat and was bent over almost at a 90 degree angle. "WOW, these Tuna are REALLY powerful", I thought. Well, that tuna toyed with me for well over 45 minutes, moving from side to side -- and NOT ONCE could I get the rod off the gunnel of the boat! Back and forth. Around the entire boat I would go.

Somewhere around the half hour mark, as these things tend to happen, I began to hear the taunts from behind me. "Oh come on. It's only a 25 pounder." "What's the matter Mary, too much for ya?". "Next time can we fish with your husband". You get the picture. Of course, being a male of our species, that only made me more determined then ever to land this fish.

But, after an hour 1/2 on the tuna, and making no progress whatsoever, I finally had to give in (to my MUCH LATER IN LIFE DISMAY) and ask my neighbor to grab a gimbel belt to take over for me, as he was next in the batting order. I can remeber telling him, "If this is what tuna fishing is all about, this s--cks. I'm exhausted". He laughed. Oh the shame. I was berated with jeers from the crowd.

Now my neighbor, being no fishing slouch himself, takes the pole -- and again -- SLAM right to the gunnel. There was no way he was gonna lift it off the boat. He immediatey told the other guys (as they started to ride him as well for his inability to master such a fish) that perhaps their original 25 pound estimate was a little light. This fish was probably 50 - 60 pounds. He lasted another hour and 45 minutes, but sadly he too had to pass the pole to our #3 hitter.

Well to jump ahead, all 6 of us held the rod that day. Not one of us ever got the pole off the gunnel after 4+ hours. Each time another angler grabbed the rod our estimates seemed to increase. #3 batter said maybe a 100 pounder. #4 thought 130 perhaps. But slowly, nobody was laughing at me anymore for my pathetic initial display -- and I made DAMN sure they heard about it when it came their turn on the rod.

Needless to say I will never forget this fish. And to this day I consider it my trophy fish. We finally had our mate (a gentleman of 6'6", 250+ pound stature) handle the rod. He struggled as well. But after all was said and done, we boated a 230 pound yellowfin tuna -- my first tuna ever -- which was how I lost my virginity tuna fishing. Not a bluefin of that size, but a yellowfin.

I later found out that the RI state record was only about 250 or 260 pounds for yellowfin on rod and reel, and of course, that was done in a chair. We ended up selling the fish for a nice price, and she became soushy within 48 hours over in Tokyo.

Afterwards, we all celebrated our wonderful angling techniques, and no one left that day not considering themselves a "Master Tuna Fisherman". Funny how earlier in the day we were all "riding" each other for the other guy's inabiity to land the fish, till it became our turn on the pole. Amazing how that shared experience brought us all together in a way that 5 basic strangers left feeling like the closest of friends afterwards.

And if you want to see a YFT over 200 pounds....

Recently got a negative adapter for my digital camera. This one brought back some great memories...:)

This is great stuff. Excellant idea for a thread Jenn :D

Homerun, another great story... "next time we'll fish with your husband"

You have me cryin'... and that's a cool fish.

Just for Jenn
thanks ..I actually REALLY appreciated that more than you know......I am dying to give up my ...(ahem) virginity!!!!! I said I was gonna do it for the past two years.....but this year I REALLY mean it....my problem is convincing someone to go with me...(little wierd about going myself and the hubby doesnt seem to keen on being on a boat that long.....:rolleyes: :rolleyes: :rolleyes: )


This is great stuff. Excellant idea for a thread Jenn
yeah I have been thinking about my younger years w/my dad a lot lately!!!!! when we used to hit the cape he had the boat and a few of his friends had the sand sleds.....everyone was happy.... he is 63 this year and just retired from teaching after 29 years (still keeps the home business though) I am really enjoying watching him get back into the things he used to enjoy!!! this year they are going to the Cape for two weeks for the first time in I cant remember how long.......and the best part????? this year he has his OWN sand sled! monday afternoon they went and bought a brand spanking new F350 diesel crew cab!!!!! (REALLY shocked me actually!!!!) I know it may sound crazy but I am having so much fun watching my parents start to enjoy life!!!!! Why do these thoughts put a lump in my throat?????? :confused: :D sheesh.....I am such an emotional sap lately...:rolleyes: :rolleyes:
hey slip.......just think of your daughter in say...20 years feeling the same way!!!!! (choke! sniff!) heeheehee....;)