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RIJIMMY · 01-18-2005, 12:40 PM

Great thread, fishing has driven a lot of the direction in my life.
First, my name, anyone remember (or know) who James was in the bible? It was James the fisherman. That’s why my Dad named me that. He was and still is my biggest fishing influence. I grew up in Connecticut and my earliest memories are fishing for bass and blues in Milford. I remember seeing my first blitz, I was ony 5 or 6. I remember half eaten bunker flapping on the shore in Stratford. Miles of bunker beaching themselves from blues. We used to fish Charles Island Bar and snag bunker in Milford harbor. When I was @ 8, we started venturing up to RI. We camped at Burlingame park and went to Ctown breachway every weekend during the summer and fall. We fished for blackfish (never knew what the heck a tautog was), bass and blues. I remember one day, the breachway was packed on a sunny afternoon and my Dad and I were just watching the guys fish at the end of the breachway. It was packed with fisherman and onlookers. A guy hooked into a good bass and fought it up in the rocks. He was struggling and did not know what to do, he was going to lose the fish. My dad was pi$$ed and was swearing , “This SOB is going to lose that fish..blah balh.” He bolted down the rocks, into the waves, grabbed the fish by the gills and carried it back up. He did it in one swift motion. All the people were dumbfounded, my Dad had blood running down his arm and just walked up and gave the guy his fish and didnt say anything. It was funny, my Dad was my hero.
I got my first blue at Race Point beach when I was 9. I’ll never forget that. My first bass was at Quonny when I was 9 or 10. I eventually went to college in RI because I was familiar with the area due to all the time we spent fishing there . After school, I drifted away from fishing for awhile. My Dad got more serious about bass and became very successful in the late 80s and early 90’s. I eventually moved back , but he and my Mom moved to Florida. He has given me all of his equipment and much more valuable, a lot of his knowledge. We fished together a few times up here but he seemed to lose interest which was odd. I talk to him after every time I fish and he still yells at me if I do something dumb (I’m 35) and always gives me a “You should have tried here..” speech. I’d rather fish with him more than anyone. We barely talk when we fish but we are always thinking alike. Not to be a downer, but I received some bad news about my Dad’s health this year and it scares me that I may not have the opportunity to fish w/him or even talk to him after I fish. I owe a lot to him and enjoyed every time we ever fished, regardless of if we caught anything at all.

01-18-2005, 12:40 PM	#35
RIJIMMY sick of bluefish iTrader: (1) Join Date: Aug 2003 Location: TEXAS Posts: 8,672	Great thread, fishing has driven a lot of the direction in my life. First, my name, anyone remember (or know) who James was in the bible? It was James the fisherman. That’s why my Dad named me that. He was and still is my biggest fishing influence. I grew up in Connecticut and my earliest memories are fishing for bass and blues in Milford. I remember seeing my first blitz, I was ony 5 or 6. I remember half eaten bunker flapping on the shore in Stratford. Miles of bunker beaching themselves from blues. We used to fish Charles Island Bar and snag bunker in Milford harbor. When I was @ 8, we started venturing up to RI. We camped at Burlingame park and went to Ctown breachway every weekend during the summer and fall. We fished for blackfish (never knew what the heck a tautog was), bass and blues. I remember one day, the breachway was packed on a sunny afternoon and my Dad and I were just watching the guys fish at the end of the breachway. It was packed with fisherman and onlookers. A guy hooked into a good bass and fought it up in the rocks. He was struggling and did not know what to do, he was going to lose the fish. My dad was pi$$ed and was swearing , “This SOB is going to lose that fish..blah balh.” He bolted down the rocks, into the waves, grabbed the fish by the gills and carried it back up. He did it in one swift motion. All the people were dumbfounded, my Dad had blood running down his arm and just walked up and gave the guy his fish and didnt say anything. It was funny, my Dad was my hero. I got my first blue at Race Point beach when I was 9. I’ll never forget that. My first bass was at Quonny when I was 9 or 10. I eventually went to college in RI because I was familiar with the area due to all the time we spent fishing there . After school, I drifted away from fishing for awhile. My Dad got more serious about bass and became very successful in the late 80s and early 90’s. I eventually moved back , but he and my Mom moved to Florida. He has given me all of his equipment and much more valuable, a lot of his knowledge. We fished together a few times up here but he seemed to lose interest which was odd. I talk to him after every time I fish and he still yells at me if I do something dumb (I’m 35) and always gives me a “You should have tried here..” speech. I’d rather fish with him more than anyone. We barely talk when we fish but we are always thinking alike. Not to be a downer, but I received some bad news about my Dad’s health this year and it scares me that I may not have the opportunity to fish w/him or even talk to him after I fish. I owe a lot to him and enjoyed every time we ever fished, regardless of if we caught anything at all.