Westport

[bloocrab]

Sorry, it took a bit of time to type this up….but I felt I needed to revisit this post…..

So Yeah Paul, once out front I was reminded that I'M in a small craft and probably should have heeded the warning..........fear not though, we quickly retreated back into the river.

But there’s more to the story…..Let me start by saying, our God is an Awesome God, and I am humbly thankful!...........Not to mention, this site is due for a decent story. Hope you all enjoy!

Happy Veterans Day!

Title: Dad's Hay-day
Morning Log: November 11, 2016 – Time: 5:30am
Veteran’s Day …Undisclosed River in Massachusetts

Having had checked the forecast the night before, it was painfully obvious that we wouldn’t be making it out to the preferred ledge that morning. Being that my soon-to-be 77 year old father had his heart set on catching some Tautog to fill that last empty shelf in his basement's full-sized freezer, I didn’t have it in me to bail out on him.

I had the boat hitched and ready to go from the night before… so after checking the forecast one last time, I sadly headed down my driveway. Although it was very dark and I could barely see them…I could hear my neighbor’s pair of flags violently wailing in the wind. Coincidentally, he’s a war veteran and has both the American and POW flags proudly hanging on his flag pole. Of course that was just one more reason to head out on this incredibly windy Veteran’s day.

My wife’s warning about the missing boat that launched from Sandwich with three missing fishermen coupled with the fact that today’s accompanying winds were to be much worse, kept echoing through my mind. As I made my way to his house, I kept second guessing my decision to head out. When I pulled up to his house he was eagerly waiting outside with all his gear and of course, the customary tray from Dunkin’ Donuts.

“Good morning boy!”…he cheerfully said as he opened the passenger door, while at the same time handing me the tray so that he could go and load his gear into the back of the truck. Since buying the boat, he’s assumed the responsibility of bringing the bait, beverages and snacks, which is great because he feels like he’s contributing and it’s a few less things that I need to worry about. I may not always agree with his choice of “snacks” or beverages but once you’re out there long enough, everything tastes good.

After loading up, we hopped on the highway and began heading south, all the while talking about the white-chinners that we’d be boating later on that morning (I still didn’t have the heart to mention anything). Thirty minutes later, as we approached the boat ramp…it abruptly hit him. The lot was completely empty…what was once a child-like smile quickly turned into a nervously confused look. There was a chop at the dock and we were nowhere near the mouth of the river. Few words were exchanged while I fired up the Bay-boat …and although I think he knew it, he said nothing. While letting it warm up, I headed to the post to pay my dues and figure out the best way to break it to him.
When I hopped on board I immediately said, “Ok, here’s the plan…We’ll head out of the river, if it doesn’t look good…we’ll come back in and play with the schoolies.” He agreed and off we went, banging our way out against the chop and tide while coming to the realization that today was going to be a bust.
As we made our way around the last bend, I could see the waves smashing against the parallel beach just outside the river. The mouth looked like a ginormous washing machine just waiting to send us into the rinse cycle. Being that this apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, I throttled up and stubbornly pushed our way through the slop. Once outside, it was evident that it wasn’t going to happen, we needed to head back in…and fast. It was too risky to head far out and the fishing would be so uncomfortable…and to try fishing in tight would be an even greater risk with the wind direction, water conditions and any possibility of engine failure. Like a couple of kids who got their ball taken away, we were humbled by the conditions and knew we had wasted a few hours of good sleep by being stubborn.

Once back in the river, we started looking around for signs of fish. As we’d seen the last few times out, fish had been breaking just about everywhere. However, with the water and wind combination, there would be no visible aides today. Not even the birds could find them, and believe me...they were trying. None the less, I felt we’d at least dial in on some river-schoolies…so off we went…trying near the docks, the now empty mooring fields, the channel…every retrieve brought in weeds but no fish. After about an hour of fishless weed-cleaning, dad took a seat on the fish-box and began with the negative comments; “What a waste of time,… we should have stayed home!”, etc, etc…My father has grown incredibly impatient as he’s aged and when he’s not catching fish…he’s not happy and he’s going to let everyone know about it! I tried calming him down and getting him to laugh by reminding him of the pictures he had texted me earlier that week of the micro-bass he had caught while I was at work. He likes to get my “mouth watering”, as he puts it… by sending me pictures of fish he’s caught while I’m at work. Of course I always play along and tell him how jealous I am, although sometimes or actually most times…I’m not playing along, I am jealous, very jealous! Friends and family alike, shake their heads in disbelief when I tell them that I can’t wait to retire. It’s not because I’m lazy, it’s just the opposite…I can’t sit still. One of my selfish prayers at night is that God give me health and longevity so that I can follow in my father’s footsteps and fish my stinking butt off!

After getting a smile out of him, I remind him that “you can’t catch fish if you’re not fishing”… I even go a step further and say… “Somewhere out here, there’s a fish…a big fish, waiting to fill his belly before heading south”. He then gives me that look; you know…the look you give someone when you think they’re telling you a fish story and then grunt-fully reaches into the cooler and grabs a Portuguese chourico roll.

About a minute later, my Tsunami shad gets disrupted. Unsure if what I felt was a hit or not…I crouch over and concentrate on my retrieve...Slowly turning the handle ever so gently, feeling the contours of the bottom below when suddenly, Bang!...I get hit again, this time I set up tight… it’s Game On!!! I’m tight to a good fish…the schoolie rod I brought with me now has a McDonald’s arch to it and my little Fin-nor’s drag is being put to the test. It didn’t take too long to get him boat-side because I had been casting up-river on an out-going tide…this fish must have been coming my way and in doing so…shaved some distance off on getting him to the boat. Meanwhile, my dad is in a panic state, yelling out…”Watch out for the buoy over there!...Don’t let him head towards the can!”...Seeing as how the original plan was to fill that last shelf in his freezer, this fish was going in the box… IF I could get it in the boat. After a couple of minutes of drag-racing in and around the boat, we had a gorgeous 28lb. striper hanging from the Chatillon. High Fives got shared, smiles and “yahoos” got shouted and dad was happy. However, I was not…..After getting the fish into the boat I was disappointed in myself…I should have handed him the rod after setting up on that fish. Dad’s yet to catch anything big from our boat and this would have been the first.
After cleaning up the chourico sandwich that he had dropped while scrambling for the net we hosed things down and both starting casting again. Not two minutes had passed when suddenly dad was bent over with an unprepared drag setting. Seeing that something was wrong I leaned over and un-tightened the drag knob.
”ZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz”…she screamed for what seemed to be forever, …I had loosened it too much! With all the moorings surrounding us, once again I slowly caressed the drag and did my best to set it correctly. Dad was speechless, his eyes darting toward the water while at the same time, mumbling to himself, “oh boy, oh boy, oh boy”…..”Relax”, I said…”take your time, stay tight to the fish…you’re going to do fine”. It was difficult for me to determine the size of this fish because I wasn't very familiar with the rod, and obviously, I wasn’t the one fighting it. You’ll have to remember, we were supposed to be targeting Tautog this morning with a fall-back plan of targeting schoolies….so as Bob (GotStripers) noted…we were using our “trout rods” for schoolies...LOL.

Luckily we were tied off to a vacant mooring on the edge of the channel. With the direction that this fish was heading in, the only hazard was the channel marker. Dad did an awesome job in battling the fish and soon he was close to the boat. Three yards out from the boat, he introduced himself to us…he came up toward the surface and showed us his stripes before taking more drag and heading back down toward the bottom. Realizing now that this fish was much larger than mine, I quietly prepared myself in guiding my father to the corner of the boat and placing the net nearby, (of course the gaff had stayed home because we were Tog-hunting, remember?)

Due to an injury my father had sustained a few years back, he was struggling a bit. His entire bicep muscle had torn away and was never properly taken care of. He tried handing me the rod but I refused…I had faith in him but more importantly, I knew how much this would mean to him if he did it alone. I offered some guidance, but more importantly, encouragement that he could do this… After a brief struggle, he was a rod’s length away from the boat. I gave my father the direction he needed to carefully guide the fish my way as I struggled to get him half way into the net. The swim shad was barely hanging on so I didn’t want to take any chances with lipping him. Once I knew I had enough of him in the net, I grabbed the rim on both sides and lifted what had now become dad's largest Striped Bass ever.

I swear I saw tears in his eyes as he reached over and embraced me. “Thank you son!, Thank you so much”….”I never caught a fish this big…and you never gave up that there were fish out here”… Of course we shared numerous high-fives and probably didn’t fish for the next 10 minutes due to this excitement. I couldn’t ruin this moment by returning to fish…and honestly I didn’t want to….this was much better to me. Having been able to share this moment with my father…the man who when I was a child helped me with reeling in my first scup… and now at 76, to be able to help him with his biggest fish, was a dream-come-true for me.

As I knew dad had no plans on releasing his biggest fish, I made every effort to revive the 28-lber that was already in the box. Unfortunately, it was too late. None the less, coming from a big family, I knew nothing would go to waste. Twenty minutes of half-hearted casts later, I could tell he was ready to go home. Smiling from ear to ear, we made our way back in toward the dock. After strapping everything down, we began our voyage back home, recounting the events of the day. As we approached closer to home, dad started calling people….lots of people! My father has nine other siblings, ten in all and I’d a swore he called all of them. By the time we reached his driveway, four of his siblings were awaiting the excitement. Many pictures were taken, stories told without exaggeration and smiles shared. This day would be a day to remember, not only for him…but more importantly, for me.

I learned later on that day, that dad spent the afternoon driving around to the home of his siblings delivering freshly dressed striper to all who welcomed it. Being truly old-school, dad doesn’t believe in filleting nor do most of his siblings, nothing goes to waste short of the fins and the innards. Both heads were also prepared so as to make a fish-stew which was shared by many later on that evening.

If you can take anything away from my story, take this…..Don’t let any time go to waste. Enjoy your moments with your family as one never knows which will be the last. I am forever grateful that God allowed this to happen for us.

Stay tight everyone…not only to the fish, but to your loved ones as well!

God Bless ~

Gilly