HomeMy WebLinkAboutSeptember 15, 1988 - Joys of Snapper FishingFocus
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Joys of
Snapper Fishing By
Paul Stoutenburgh
For those who
look to the
wind for advice
about our weather,
its direction
can pretty well
tell what it'
s going to
be; east wind,
our storm wind —look
out for rain;
southwest wind, our
summer wind —humid and
often hot
weather; and our
northwest wind, clear
and dry —in
the fall it's
delightful. It's almost
as if this
wind blew away all the
summer people and
gave us back
our East End crisp
and clean. Fall weather always
reminds me of
those early days of
youth when snapper
fishing and seining
for silversides was a
must. Of course,
we started snapper fishing in
those early days before
the fall weather set in,
but
it seemed the
best snapper fishing was
always after Labor
Day. In those days the only pieces of equipment
needed were a long - shanked snapper hook
and an ex- tremely long bamboo pole. Today I see the
fancy spinning rigs being used but I
doubt, fish for fish, if more snap-
pers could be caught on those than
on the old bamboo ones. Simplicity and low cost were
the rule in those days. A piece of line
a little longer than the pole would swing
in just right for
baiting and pulling in a fish. Then
most of the real snapper fishing was
done in wooden rowboats, something pretty hard to
find in the modern world of plastics,
fiberglass and metal. It was a time when there
was little traffic in our creeks and
channels and so the best place to fish
naturally was in the channels at the
mouth of the creeks. Here you'd
try to get out
first and get in the best spot. Anchored,
the bam- boo poles would be out the sides and
over the stern of the boat. We were the
envy of those ashore whose lines couldn'
t reach out to where the real action was. It was
a great era and one I'm afraid
we'll never see again. Watch Out for Swinging
Fish Of course, if you were ashore when
you pulled in your wiggling, jumping
snapper on the end of the line, it swung
about like some silvery spirited pendulum. One hand
held the long bamboo pole, while the other
tried to grab the fish hanging from the
ever - elusive line. Many an innocent bystander was
jarred out of his summer's dreams by the slap of
a wet fish beside the head! Some would use
bobbers, others would have no part of them, particularly
if the fish were biting. The knack of the no-
bobber was to keep the bait just slightly
moving so it wouldn't sink to the bottom, for
when it did, no telling what you might get —an
eel
that would pull like some
monster from the deep and then take some
real doing to get the hook
out, or perhaps a toadfish. How we kids hated them !
They looked and sounded so sinister
with their big mouths and grun- ting sounds.
Just so we wouldn't lose our techniques as
the years rolled along and to
start a new generation of snapper fishermen, Barbara and
I decided to take our daughter and two grandchildren
out fishing. We knew from 85
watching the bridges and the people on shore at
the mouth of our creeks that snap- pers were
in but, sad to say, in no great quantities.
However, the weather was perfect so we said — "Let's
try it." Robby had his own fishing pole and
tackle box with a special lock on it
so his sister Sara couldn't get in." A
few snacks and drinks were brought along by
mother to add a little party effect.
The old outboard was clamped to the boat
and the
poles and nets were dropped in and we were
off. The tide was high, the air crisp and
clean and that exhilarating feeling
of fall caught us all. The first stop was
to get bait. We'd brought
the long killie net and as we
pulled the boat up on the warm sandy beach
we could see schools of silversides or spearing working their
way along the shore. Dragging
for Silversides In no time the net was
unrolled and Robby was elected to go out
into the deep water. Without a moment's hesitation he
was in the water. What better excuse for getting
wet, and when I say wet I mean
completely wet. We had to remind him to
keep the lower end down so the fish wouldn'
t escape underneath. It was all a
ball to him. Our first haul brought handfuls of
the beautiful green spearing in. As the
net unfolded the children could hardly contain themselves. I wanted to
get enough so I could eat some. They are
a great treat, fried crisp and eaten whole, almost
like French fries. I have to behead
and gut some for Barbara but
that's no
big job. Of course, there were killies mixed in
with the spearing and her- mit crabs to be
examined. It was a treasure house of sights and
things to be picked up and looked
over. If anyone ever wants to give children or
grandchildren a gift they'll remember, get a killie net
for them and turn them loose on
a beach. Of course, Robby had to be the
boy he is and so when he
found a big jelly (not the stinging kind)
he picked it up and
promptly, with guilt in his eyes, put it on
his sister's back which resulted in a
lot of squeals and screams. It was one
of the highlights of his day! Probably the
getting of the bait would have sufficed for the activity
of the day but we still had to
try fishing. Lines were baited and tossed over. But
no fish. Finally we did get one snapper, then
Robby got one and lost it. Then we
got a bill eel (needlefish) and, of course,
this was the prize of the day. It
was about a foot long with
big eyes and a long bill studded with tiny sharp
teeth. Our day rolled on, snacks and juices were con-
sumed, we watched an osprey enjoy his catch
on a stake out in the marsh while a snowy egret
stalked where all could see. A kingfisher plummeted in
the water nearby apparently a better fisherman than we.
Our
day was a success. We had fun,
caught a few fish, had more fun catching the
bait and in general it was a fun day
for all. We just took advantage of the great
out- doors on the East End , ultural Center
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SEPTEMBER 15, 1988