Merry Fishmas 2012

December 23rd, 2012

It’s not that FishTales went away this year.  More the case that the fish hardly made an appearance.

A brief blitz of bass in mid-October. Then came Hurricane Sandy and, well, you know the rest.

Still, this is the season of hopes and dreams.  So we pine for the miracle of Christmas Bass, in the most figurative sense.

And as Big Brother Frank and I have penned here: “We Believe”.

Therefore, may there be a Van Staal under your tree, a keeper on your line,  and love and peace on Earth for the New Year.

Merry Fishmas to all.

Fred

FishmasCardFINALFINALMaroon

Gina, Fred and Frank Abatemarco. Lyrics by Frank and Fred. Graphic Design by Chaweenee. Photo by Punk Rock Barrister Justin Hoy.

 

GRANDMA NAILED A KEPER AT THE LIGHTHOUSE

(To the tune of Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer)

Grandma nailed a keeper at the Lighthouse,

Fishing on the slack tide Christmas Eve.

You can say there’s no such thing as Santa.

But as for all the Sharpies, they believe.

She’d been drinking rum with Harvey,

And we begged her not to go.

But she slipped into her waders,

And she staggered to the Point under the snow.

When she weighed in Christmas morning,

Down at Paulie’s Tackle Shop,

She had a striper in the cooler,

And a big ole nasty bluefish on the top.

Now the bass is on the table,

And the pudding made of fig.

But Grandma’s deep into her tide charts.

She says New Year’s Eve at North Bar will be big.

Fishmas Card 2011: Keeper Bass Coming to Town

December 19th, 2011
Never Say Never. The season officially ended last week, but did anyone tell the fish?
December 19, 2011: Right up until the closing bell on December 15,  the 2011 striped bass surfcasting season was consistently  3 to 4 weeks off schedule.  September was a sleeper.  The “count-on-able” Rosh Hoshanah and Yom Kippur blitzes didn’t happen until Columbus Day weekend. And the herring and bunker runs that historically characterize November hardly appeared until early December.  At this rate, we may in fact have keeper bass for Christmas. That notion inspired this year’s Fishmas card by me and Big Brother Frank.
Lyrics by Fred and Frank; photo by St. Toni of the Blitz; graphics design by Chawenee.                                                                                                                                                                

 

Keeper Bass Are Coming To Town
(To the tune of “Santa Claus Is Coming To Town”)
You better cast straight
And tie on a fly
Look for the bait
I’m telling you why
Keeper bass are coming to town.
They’re in at sun-rise
Along with the blues
Gonna find out
Who’s paying their dues
Keeper Bass are coming to town.
They see you with your buck tails
They know when things are jake
They know if you’re a goog’ or not
So be good for goodness sake!
O! They’re blitzing the Light
So work that new lure
A really good bite
Big stripers for sure
Keeper Bass are coming to town.

A Bonacker Thanksgiving Reprise

November 23rd, 2011

NAPEAGUE BEACH AT WHITE SANDS

True story or not, the Bonacker Turkey tale is too good not to retell

On Long Island’s East End, Bonackers (short for the Indian word Accabonac, which roughly translates to land of ground nuts), are the descendants of the earliest working class English settlers of the East Hampton hamlet known as Springs. Only a few such families remain of what used to be farmers, baymen and fishermen. The Bonacker family names most commonly include Miller, King, Bennett, Conklin, Havens, Strong and Lester.

Back in the day, these “bubs” lived low on the food chain. Consider them among the earliest locavores. In the toughest of times, particularly during the Great Depression, Bonackers were known to eschew the traditional turkey on Thanksgiving. Instead, they’d stuff a big meaty codfish with scallops, stale bread and whatever veggies their gardens would yield. Perhaps there would be some oyster stew or clam chowder, clam fritters or clam pie as well. The codfish, scallops, oysters and clams were plentiful and cheap, cheap, cheap once upon a time. Not so today.

There are some who question the veracity of this particular fish tale. But I think it too quaint not to retell, regardless. And whether you are fortunate enough to have a fat fowl on your table this holiday, or you’re giving a turkey a break by serving a ham, or you defied the odds and nailed a late-season keeper bass, or perhaps recreating a Bonacker’s turkey, here’s wishes for a Happy Thanksgiving from FishTales.

Montauk to the Met: The Bel Canto Bass Blitz

October 6th, 2011
Dramatic top water hits in the surf; Trilling high C’s on stage at Lincoln Center
Oct. 6, 2011: My definition of a good day: 730am; keeper stripers in a North Bar bass blitz in Montauk.  730pm; curtain up on Anna Netrebko singing lead soprano in a Donizetti classic at Lincoln Center’s Metropolitan Opera.

Rosh Hoshanah Blitz: Charlie R scores a keeper

Reacting to a fish call from Big Brother Frank, reporting that Montauk finally lit up with bass and blues, I hustled out east for a mid-week lightening round of fishing with Tenacious Billy S., who is rapidly showing signs as the equal of any degenerate, eh, I mean dedicated, surfcasting rat. The “Rosh Hoshanah Blitz”, highly anticipated the weekend before, was virtually a non-event, except for a few diligent anglers like Charlie R., the Mickey Mantle of south shore surfcasting, who scored some bluefish and a healthy schoolie for his table from Montauk’s north side.  Frank put a brunch-time keeper in his cooler at Jones Reef on Wednesday so Billy and I were quick to join him for the tail end of the afternoon feed. We didn’t fare quite as successfully, but did manage two good sized bluefish from Turtle Cove at sundown. Even though our boots were in the water at 445pm, we were a tad late for a tea-time north side blitz that produced child-size bass on the beach from a picket-fence line of surfcasters stretching from Scott’s Cove near the lighthouse to Clark’s Cove to the west.  Reports also confirmed that “all big fish” were caught at the Stepping Stones, Oyster Pond Cove, and Shagwong, further west.

Brunch Time Keeper: Frank put out the fish call

Highly encouraged by the amount of fish caught, their size and the stiff NNW wind that promised to keep pushing the tiny rain bait and feeding bass into our faces, we returned to the scene of the crime at first light.  Billy and I had afternoon obligations so we knew ours was a hit and run proposition: get them early, or go home skunked.

Our truck reached the North Bar as the sun broke the horizon over our right shoulders, revealing squawking, diving birds that told the tale: major striper blitz.  Billy threw a shorty Hopkins, I threw a white and red Polaris popper, Frank threw a blue swimmer. Everything–and everyone–caught fish.

Major Montauk Bass Blitz: Big Brother Frank on the North Bar

All the hits were dramatic, top water explosions. My lure got slammed within a single crank of the reel, accompanied by a vicious tail slap. The feel of the previous night’s fighting-dog bluefish was still fresh, so I knew immediately from the difference that I was on a muscular keeper bass. It was combat fishing conditions, with hard running water, wind-blown fish lines and anglers stacked on top of each other. There was no chance to savor the fight, so I horsed my 31-inch fatty onto the beach and extracted the lure that the fish inhaled half way down its throat.

Pair of Keepers: Hit and run stripers at sunrise

Billy had already deposited his 29-inch bass in the cooler and was now fast on a short.  Frank had one throwback schoolie and then the action died as quickly as it started.  The fish moved offshore to the west.  A quick look at the south side revealed another blitz in the making at Brown’s Rock beyond Turtle Cove.  But it was time for Billy and me to hit the road.

Later that evening at the Met, Anna Netrebko trilled her final high C‘s before the axe man cut off her pretty head. Then A-Rod whiffed at a 3rd strike in the Bronx, sending the Yankees to defeat in game 5 of the American League’s first round championship playoffs. Meanwhile, I was still grinning with memories of the morning’s mayhem in Montauk–and looking forward to the weekend prospects for the lesser known, but up-and-coming, Yom Kippur Blitz of 2011.

From Montauk to the Met: My idea of a great day

Fishing Fabulosity: The First 10 Days Are Hardest

September 25th, 2011
A slow start of schoolies on the beach built to a crescendo of keepers in Clark’s Cove

First Fish: A kiss for luck and back to sea

SEPT. 13-23: I finally got around to some serious beach roaming and casting once the last of summer house guests departed and the BW took off for points south and west on business. I ventured forth with the West Coast contingent: nephew Chris, who last year gave us all a fishing lesson at East Hampton’s Main Beach, Clam Pie Keith, who has been absent from the beach since the Rosh Hoshanah Blitz of 2009, and Chris’ barefoot buddy DJ, a novice to it all. I watched what looked like albies (false albacore) crashing bait under diving birds off North Bar while Chris gave DJ casting lessons. Homeward bound, we mugged a lone eagle surfcaster who just nailed a doubleheader of short bass as we drove past at the western edge of Napeague State Park. That was as much action as we could scare up for the day. Tenacious Bucktailin’ Billy then joined me and Keith hunting and casting in vain in all the right places. The good news is that despite the storms, the beaches were in good shape for driving.

Pair of Bass: Doubleheader

Midweek,  I landed a 16-inch chamber of commerce striper on Truck Beach, in between the A-frame and Koosmeyers. I threw a Kastmaster with a white tube teaser into a descending tide, frothy with white water from a stiff NNW breeze.  The fish hit the teaser right in the wash. That evening,  the season turned to autumn like someone threw a switch. The light changed, the temperature changed, the wind changed.  A cold rainy front rode in on a NNW wind, dropped temperatures some 25 degrees into the 50s. Lots of fall fishermen started to show up around the Point and they all had that forlorn “where’s the fish?” look.

Lots of fishing. Lots of reports. Lots of  rumor chasing. Catching, not so much. Dan joined us on the weekend for a 24-hour lightening round. But all we gained for our efforts was assurance that our equipment worked, and a tasty lunch of caponata sandwiches and grilled tuna on semolina at the North Bar. The season was way behind.

Sandy beach bass: Billy and the little 'uns

Catching up with Slammin’ Sam the Hook at Indian Wells Tavern, I fully expected his sarcastic reaction to my stunted quarry to date: “What’s that you were holding in the photo?” he asked.  “It looked like a striper, but was to small to actually be one.”  He went on: “That fish you were holding looked like it might grow up to be a striped bass one day.” Sam backed his bravado with a slaughter earlier in the day of blues and bass up to 18 pounds on the ocean beach west of Hither Hills State Park. Between quips, he corroborated a rumor that bait moved in around Montauk prompting a riot of hit and run blitzes. Seemed like every time I took a break, the fish hit hard.

Then another front moved through and the winds switched around out of the east.  The surf pounded, but most beaches remained passable. On Sam’s fish tip, Billy  and I switched from bottom dragging AVA diamond jigs to top riding Shorty Hopkins’ lures that scored us some throw-back schoolies at sun up on the sandy beaches of Napeague. A little action was better than none.  As the afternoon wind howled, Billy and I found other pursuits to avoid fishing. Word came later that fish blitzed in and out at the Point from Turtle Cove to Brown’s. At least Billy was negotiating a plumbing snafu.  What was my excuse?

Clark's Cove Keeper: The first striper is always sweetest

Back to the point again at first light,  we watched through our binoculars a handful of keepers landed by Stuie H. and a few other sharpies tossing bucktails near the Stepping Stones west of Clark’s Cove. Billy and I ventured to Oyster Cove Pond before the high tide washed out the beach trail  but missed the brief flurry of action. Billy was done for the day and I took the rest of the morning to “get some work done”, while monitoring encouraging fish reports from Charlie R. Blues and bass had hit the north side, he texted.  With a clear afternoon sky and diminished winds, I returned alone to the Point and that is when the action got hot in Clark’s Cove.

Waters were calm, and there was a gentle swell with an outgoing tide.  Pods of small bait visibly rippled the surface. The tiny, silvery fish exploded whenever my Shorty Hopkins landed in their midst. But whatever was chasing the bait, wasn’t interested in my offerings.  Further out, I saw birds diving and larger fish breaking water.  Under the cover of dark, I reasoned, these fish might move into range.  And so they did.  As soon as the sun slipped behind the dune, larger fish attacked the close in bait pods. I coulnd’t tell what kind, but from the way these predators flung their bodies from the water, I presumed bluefish.  Casting easily and using a fast retrieve to keep the 1-ounce lure topside, my rod lurched from a solid hit a mere 30 yards out.  Hook set, I had the fish ashore in no time and was astounded to see it was a keeper bass of nearly 30 inches. I got mugged immediately as I took striper to the truck. It was dark, but there was plenty of  fishing room even with some two dozen sharpies rimming Clark’s Cove. I had two more strikes, but dropped both fish. Then a solid slam convinced me that I may have kept the wrong fish. This one tugged and ran and then finally gave up at the shoreline.  It was a gangster bluefish some 27 inches long. Not the 20-pound bass I was hoping for, though it fought like one. This fish convinced me my night was complete.

Morning Bite: So close, it nearly rubbed his leg

I never have put together back-to-back fishing sessions with much success. The next morning was no exception. Billy was back and we returned to the scene of the crime, this time at oh-dark-hundred hours.  At first light, Billy got a big splashy hit so close to him, that if the fish had missed, he would have bitten Billy’s waders.  A 10-pound schoolie, just under the 28-inch minimum had attempted suicide on Billly’s Point Judith lure.  But it was not to be his final swim.  After a quick photo, the striper was returned to become table fare another day. Next up, is the Rosh Hoshanah Blitz (we hope) of 2011.  And then the fall fishing season prime time: October. Stay tuned.

Autumn's Abrupt Arrival: Someone threw a switch turning summer to fall

New York, New York: Ten Years After 9/11

September 11th, 2011

Amagansett Beach, September 11, 2011

Courtesy of a thoughtful and creative friend and neighbor, I pass along this uplifting video. Well worth a few minutes of your time today.

Link to New York, New York: 
http://bangworld.com/BANGWORLD/BangRemembers.html

FishTales 2011: Wet and Wild Irene’s Aftermath

September 4th, 2011
“I gotta do something about it: Do I ice her? Do I marry her?”
September 4, 2011: The line is from Prizzi’s Honor, in case you don’t recognize it. Consider it an alternative to the severely overused “Good Night Irene” cliche with which we bade farewell to last week’s hurricane-turned-tropical-storm.

Cocktail Bluefish for Tenacious Billy at Sammy's Beach

Speaking of cliches, when the going gets tough, the tough….go fishing!  Which is exactly what 2010 Surf Rookie of the Year Billy S. and his family did as soon as Irene left the East End.

Meanwhile, I’ve assessed Irene’s impact on the official post-Labor Day start of my fishing season ahead. For sure, navigating our south facing ocean beaches by truck will be trickier than usual, considering the pounding the shore took from Georgica, to Napeague to Gurney’s in Montauk and beyond.

Irene's Fury: Montauk town beach storm surf seen from atop the Surfside overlook

It remains to be seen if this year’s pummeling is as bad as the beach erosion left behind by tropical storm Earl, which struck our East End very hard last September, nearly a year ago to this day.

Indian Wells Beach: Gouged by high tides and storm winds

In Amagansett, beaches lost at least 5 feet of soft sand, washed down to hardpan. They are severely sloped and in some places narrowed to unpassable at high tide. Wind–the big culprit as the predicted 12-inch rains never materialized–and higher than normal tides that coincided with Irene’s arrival, August 27 and 28, gouged the primary dunes, which the sea breached on beaches to the west in East Hampton and Wainscott. Plenty of downed trees in the villages, but damage and chaos way below what was feared. Power in Amagansett and much of East Hampton was out for 4 to 5 days. In hindsight, we were luckier than most on the east coast. As a hurricane, Irene whacked tens of millions on the Atlantic coast from North Carolina to New Jersey before weakening. Then, the huge size and slow path of the storm wreaked havoc with flooding in upstate New York and Vermont.

My pre-Irene “Plan-A” was to ride out Irene in Amagansett. We had water, food and booze. How bad could things get? But on second thought, we went with “Plan-B”: Get out of Dodge. Without power, Irene would have gotten old as soon as we sobered up. Once we returned to the beach, we grilled up the dozen filet mignon medallions that defrosted in our unpowered freezer. Then I  prepped four racks of baby back ribs for a weekend beach party.

All this meat has made me anxious to get into the surf and land some keeper bass. Suprisingly, a plump, pink striper filet, courtesy of John M.’s offshore Birthday-Bass fishing charter, landed in my fridge by surprise yesterday. Yum. Labor Day can’t get here soon enough. Tomorrow, it is fishing season for Fred.

Good Eats for Bass: Irene churned a potpurri of clams, mussels, crabs at the surfline

Case of the Missing Crystal Room Clam Pie Recipe

September 1st, 2011
Yes, it looked like a haunted house; but its clam and fruit pies were spooky good

Sign of the times: Hand lettered poster; homemade pies

Sept. 1, 2011Scores of tag sale treasure hunters pored through tons of dishes, glassware and cookware at the estate sale of the Crystal Room and Cricket Caterers at 250 Pantigo Road, hoping to hit the jackpot and find the bona fide recipe for the Crystal Room’s famous clam pies. The pies were mainstays at past Springs’ Fisherman’s Fair, and irresistible take-home meals for many who succumbed to the hand-lettered “Clam Pies” sign in front of the ramshackle building that is now for up sale.
Justine Ross, is one of the executors of the estate left behind by her cousin, Albert Peter Trages, who died last October, a mere three months after the death of his mother Sophia,  who founded of the Crystal Room and Cricket Caterers with her husband Albert Anthony Trages. Ms Ross notes that the clam pie recipe was “modified” from one by Lee Dion of East Hampton. “We haven’t come across it yet, but we hope it turns up”, she says 

The senior Albert Trages died in 1986, which is about when the regular catering and restaurant operations reverted to now-and-then sales of clam or fresh-fruit pies from the seemingly abandoned building on the main road between East Hampton and Amagansett.  In a bygone era, however, the Crystal Room was a thriving and swanky business run by a family of hardworking entrepreneurs.

On her liquor license application, Sophia described the couple’s $19,000 purchase and intention to operate “an attractive and moderately priced restaurant” supplemented by gourmet catering and a gift shop. The Trages originally ran a Crystal Dining Room in Bayside, Queens, before moving it to East Hampton where “land was cheap and they could raise chickens and turkeys,” recalls Ms. Ross.

Treasures and Trash: A historic tag sale at the Crystal Room of East Hampton

The 1½-acre property they bought, on what was then known as “Amagansett Road, down Pantigo”, was the former John Johnson farmhouse. Kasimir and Halina Wierzynsky, Sag Harbor émigrés who fled Nazi occupied Poland, had already converted the site for Bazaar Culinaire, described by a local newspaper at the time as a very “unusual food shop” offering international gourmet food for take out or catered events. Clearly ahead of its time, Bazaar Culinaire operated for only a short period before the Trages’ Americanized, post-war comfort-food concept debuted on July 4 weekend, 1959.

American Comfort Food: Nesselrode pie anyone?

A typical Crystal Room dinner menu of the time offered: Long Island Duckling Cumberland, at $3.95; Broiled Swordfish Garni, $3.50; Braised Beef Casserole, $3.50. Each entree included choice of appetizer: Chilled herring; Clam chowder; Vichyssoise; Liver pate; or, for $1 extra, a cold half-lobster. Dessert, also included, was either a slice of fruit pie, Nesselrode sundae, or Camembert cheese. Buffet suppers were on Wednesday and Sunday evenings.  So-called party-platters of deviled eggs, cold cuts, cranberry mold salad and the like were offered for $3 per person.

The grounds had extensive garden plantings, daffodils in particular, which were often sold in front of the building. An arbor in the rear was a favorite for photos of the many wedding receptions celebrated at the Crystal Room. “Aunt Sophie’s passion was for every bride to have the perfect wedding”, says Ms. Ross.

Hugh King, East Hampton Village historian, who organized a Springs School faculty retirement dinner there in the mid 1970’s, recalls raised banquettes, a small bandstand and a cloakroom.

But most contemporary customers, such as Keith Criado, of Santa Barbara, CA, know the Crystal Room for its Bates Motel-like eeriness and the iconic hand painted “Clam Pies” sign nailed to a tree. Criado enthusiastically recalls the early clam pies, especially at prices of $6 in the late 1970’s. They rose to more than $20 when he bought his last one about 5 years ago.  “The recent ones didn’t have nearly as many clams. But he did make his own crust,” says Criado, referring to the reclusive younger Albert Trages, who supervised pie sales of the later years.

For those lucky enough—or brave enough—to partake in the veritable haunted-house experience that was a Crystal Room clam pie purchase, the memory of Albert’s brusque instruction–“Cook it at 400 degrees for at least one hour and don’t defrost it!”–remains spooky.

If the clam pie recipe whereabouts remain a mystery, there’s no secret where the “Clam Pies” sign wound up.  According to Nick Nicolino of The Clearing House Exchange, supervisors of this weekend’s massive tag sale, the owner of Townline BBQ restaurant purchased it. “Unlike so many other sales that we manage,” explains Nicolino, “there is nothing here that anyone truly needs.  But it’s the kind of stuff that people really want.”

And for many folks who fondly remember the Crystal Room and Cricket Caterers, the elusive clam pie recipe tops their most wanted list.

Hugh King seems to be closing in on the recipe, having recently located Lee Dion.  We’ll have a FishTales update on the missing clam pie recipe when Hugh next checks in.  Meanwhile, the succeeding clam pie queen, my sister-in-law “St. Toni of the Blitz” has agreed to share these pictures of her homemade creations.  But not the recipe.  For that, you have to show up in person.

A version of this article first appeared on The East Hampton Patch

CLAM PIE BY TONI

She starts with a couple of dozen cherrystones, harvested by Big Brother Frank......

... minces and mixes the clams with celery, onions, potatoes and lots of .....

...herbs and stuff we can't tell you about (but don't forget the fresh clam juice!)....

....seals it all in pastry dough, and then bakes it at 350 degrees for one hour.....

.....Voila! A briny slice of heaven from the sea! Thank you Toni!

Record Breaking Striper Caught off Connecticut

August 6th, 2011
Talk about BFF! 82 pound, 54-inch bass hauled from Long Island Sound waters

Record Striper: It already had one broken leader in its mouth. I think it was mine!

Aug. 6, 2011: A striped bass that could break the world record was fished up from local waters by Greg Myerson, boating out of Westbrook, CT. The striper weighed in at 81.88 pounds. It has not yet been certified by the International Game Fish Association. Myerson was drifting eels on August 4th when the monster hit. Can you imagine a fish this big at the end of your line? Read about it here. 

The current record holder is Albert McReynolds who landed a 78.8 pound striper from the night surf of Atlantic City, NJ, July, 1982.

 

I Want to Catch A Big Striped Bass

February 6th, 2011

A recent chat with my wife on surfcasting . She still doesn’t get it.

Click the image above to hear our chat