THREE SNAPPERS A DAY --RIDICULOUS!!!

                                               

                            THREE SNAPPERS A DAY - RIDICULOUS!

                                                    by

                                            Dick Alley

                While my last blog about NO FISHING signs at Burying Hill Beach made mention of it as a prime location for fishing for snapper blues, it barely touched on an even sadder side of the fishing picture  regarding these late summer and early fall favorites.

                SNAPPERS are baby bluefish, spawned in the spring season and now in the 3 to 4-inch size. Before they leave in late September, many will measure half a foot in length.

                I discovered snappers in the late 50's, early 60's, when I first began fishing the waters of Long Island Sound. I started with stripers, thanks to the late Ed Boland, first owner of the Westport Tackle Shop.  The summer time striper picture slows considerably, but snappers are fun, fantastic in the frying pan and available in every cove, creek and current flow.

                They are relatively easy to catch, feed  on live or frozen fish baits and attack artificial lures with hard-hitting strikes that put a bend in a fishing rod and a smile on faces of kids from six to sixty and beyond.  

At PAL snapper derby's the bamboo rods were ideal for starting kids snapper fishing.

               In the good old days, the easiest method was the bamboo pole, line and bobber, baited with a frozen shiner. Weekends in August and September found dozens of anglers lining the Post Road Bridge on the dropping tide and everyone catching fish. They were mostly families--Moms, Dads and youngsters all sharing in the fun.

            More sophisticated and/or more experienced anglers utilized a favorite trout rod loaded with 4 to six pound test line, a heavier leader and a choice of a variety of shiny silver lures. Early favorites were the Thomas Eel, the Kastmaster, the small Hopkins, anything that was shiny and flashy. Then came the Snappa-Popper and variations that combined the splash of a panicked baitfish with plastic or rubber-based small lures. Many of us simply hooked up a bobber and baited with frozen shiners.

            There  were dozens of great spots along the river.  Almost any dock was fair game for finding snappers. Fire-fighters fished behind the Firehouse in Saugatuck. Anglers lined the river bank next to the Black Duck. The waters under the I-95 bridge and boat ramp was a popular spot. The most popular locations for locals were always Burying Hill and the tidal gates at Sherwood Mill Pond.

                 A family fishes for snappers at Sherwood Mill Pond.   

             A day's fishing consisted of filling a bucket to take home, clean and either feast or freeze for feasting during the winter months. Anglers could keep their catch. There was no limit and for decades, there was never a problem. Snappers came back in droves, year after year, no matter how good or bad the season was for the bigger of the species.

            Now the biologists are telling us there is a shortage of bluefish and this year limited the daily catch to 3 blues, irregardless of size. Not in terms of "science" but in terms of common sense, this is ridiculous.

An older photo of the creek and bridges at Old Mill.

             Snappers are food fish for many ocean predators. They are a favorite fluke bait. Stripers, sharks, sea bass and probably even bigger bluefish all  feed on snappers, along with seagulls, cormorants and likely lots of other critters found in the waters of Long Island Sound.

               If the bluefish population wasn't harmed back in the days when few recreational fishermen paid attention to conservation, how can it be a problem now when there are far fewer anglers on the waters and most are  aware of and practice conservation.

            I doubt whether any of our so-called scientists could come up with any real numbers showing increased bluefish populations due to a 3-fish limit on snappers. I'm sure that there are real numbers of small tackle businesses that have shut down because of over-regulation of the recreational fishing community. 

        How many thousands of bait boxes full of frozen shiners won't be sold this summer? How many lures, rods and reels, bamboo poles won't be put in the hands of kids with nothing to do? Kids who could be safely enjoying the sport of fishing in a time when most other sports are deemed unsafe in these times of COVID-19.

            How do we get a kid excited by letting him or her catch 3 fish in five minutes and then telling them it's time to go home? How do we produce a meal for a family with 3 fish measuring under 6-inches in length? A 3-fish limit is worse than ridiculous. It is obviously the product of a bunch of politicians, probably none of whom ever caught a fish in their life.

            As were the NO FISHING signs at Burying Hill. As were the temporary signs blocking Westport citizens from Old Mill Beach earlier in the season. There's more, but for now it is snapper season and there is a 3-fish limit that is in fact--- RIDICULOUS!

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ANGLINGwithALLEY: NO FISHING AT BURYING HILL

ANGLINGwithALLEY: NO FISHING AT BURYING HILL:                                 NO FISHING SIGNS - BURYING HILL                                                                     by      ...

NO FISHING AT BURYING HILL

 

                        NO FISHING SIGNS - BURYING HILL

                                                       by

                                                   Dick Alley

    Yesterday's 06880 Pic of the Day  showed a man with a fishing rod who was obviously crabbing in New Creek, next to a No Fishing Sign. I commented  on the photo, wondering about the signs and labeling them as unfair to Westport's angling fraternity.

    Having moved back into Westport in December after a 20 year absence, I was shocked when I saw the signs for the first time, but presumed they had been installed sometime  during that time due to some tragedy.  I made a note to look into the matter once Covid problems were fewer and town offices were all operating normally again. Now I'm hearing they are new this spring and am really wondering why.

    Except for  20 years, I have lived in town since 1952. My wife was born here as were her parents and Grandparents. 

I will include a few photo's from the old days, all taken at Burying Hill of fish and fishermen. 

Westport Striped Bass Club and PAL teamed up for a kids snapper derby at Burying Hill Creek 

The late Howard Dreyfuss with a nice catch of blues at Burying Hill Beach

As a Staples teenager, I joined my buddies in hassling Bill Lockwood by  running past his car which he sat in as one of the early Security Guards, jumping into the creek to ride the currents on the dropping tides. He would yell at us, then laugh, probably wishing he could join us.

Burying Hill Beach looking east towards Bedford's Point

Anglers fishing the Creek at Burying Hill for snappers at flood tide 

PAL dishes out burgers for the kids at PAL Snapper Derby at Burying Hill

My son Todd plays a bluefish in the creek at Burying Hill. Probably 1970.

William "Doc" Skerlick with a couple of nice Boston mackerel caught from the beach at Burying Hill

Angler's fishing for blues at Burying Hill Beach. That's the late Louisa "Lulu" Parsell, daughter of  Westport legend, Alan U. Parsell, fishing in the foreground.

     It wasn't until a few years later after I was married, that I  got back into serious fishing. Burial Hill was a favorite spot.

     It remains a place with special  memories, not just of fishing.  My kids spent summers at Burying Hill beach since before they could walk. Sun tans and swimming were just for starters. 

    My son, Todd was in 3rd or 4th grade the day I  picked him up at school, fibbing to the office there that he had a doctor's appointment. I had driven there directly from Burying Hill after seeing bluefish blitzing the bait schools up and down the beach and on up the creek.  I headed back to the beach handed Todd his fishing rod and he waded in, school clothes and all.  It was possibly the biggest fishing day ever in Westport, but one of many great days over many great fishing years.

    It's too bad that whoever made that decision didn't have the opportunity to talk to Mary Eliason. Mary lived on North Morningside Drive and was my wife's school crossing guard. She was in fact Westport's longest term school guard (more than 30 years) and was honored for her service in a celebration in the classroom by Chief Bill Stefan when she retired. When she wasn't getting thousands of Westport youngsters safely to and from school, first at Greens Farms Elementary and then at Burr Farms, she could likely be found at Burying Hill Beach. She loved the sun and she loved fishing for snapper blues even more. She  fished every day, every summer and fall from the time snappers were big enough to eat until that first frosty Nor'Easter chased them out of the Sound to southern waters. What she didn't eat herself, she fed to her cat.

    Whoever decided to post NO FISHING signs would have done well to  have spoken with the late William "Doc " Skerlick, a Westport fisherman of legend, known for his conservation work as much as for his fishing. Doc could also be found casting into the creek on a daily basis for snappers. He fished for many different species but liked snapper fishing the best. He didn't have a freezer but would usually persuade someone to store his snapper catch every day and at season's end would put on a snapper cook-out for one of the many conservation organizations he belonged to.

    On a persona;l thought, I best remember Burying Hill Beach for the Westport PAL Kid's Fishing Derby, a combined effort by the Westport PAL and the Westport Striped Bass Club, two of my favorite organizations.

For several seasons, we gathered at Burying Hill with special kids, supplied them with Bamboo poles, bait and supervision and enjoyed an afternoon of fishing and feasting with burgers and treats cooked up by P-J Romano and others from PAL.

           I don't know why, how, or who made the decision to post No Fishing signs at this small but popular swimming and fishing spot. I presume it went through the Recreation Commission for discussion. I certainly hope that it could be reconsidered, rather than waste this valuable recreational resource at a time when fishing is a sport that can be practiced in complete safety.

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THE FLOODS OF 55'

                                        STORM FOLLOW-UP

                                        THE FLOODS OF 55'

                                               by Dick Alley

        My recent post on Hurricane Season 2020, drew a few comments on Facebook, including one from Larry Ritter, who told of boating down Center Street in the big storm of 1955.

Army Days - Godchild, Susie Hodio at her christening.

My 48 Chevy in 1955 made many "Monmouth Runs" to and from the base. Mary Anne took it over when I was transferred to White Sands Proving Grounds.

         In 1955, I was still a kid. I was just shy of turning 20, a PFC in the United States Army, attending the radar Repair School at Fort Monmouth, NJ. It was about as good an assignment as could be had in the military at the time. That particular school was 8 months in duration which put me on a weekend pass back home almost every weekend. I had my fairly dependable 48 Chevy to make the trips. There was even time during the week between classes to keep it running. I recall doing a valve job on one occasion and replacing generator brushes on another. Cars were simple and fun to repair in those days. Making it even better was the option to attend night classes at the school, which allowed us to begin our weekends on Friday morning right after class.

        I left the base  on Friday that weekend and made the uneventful drive home, totally unaware that a storm of major proportions was following me up the coast.  My girlfriend who I ended up spending the  next "65-years-and-counting-with", and I had a date for the movies.

        By the time I picked her up for our date, the rain was coming down in buckets. We were barely 2 miles from her house when the Chevy sputtered then stalled and wouldn't start.  I had the hood open, getting soaked while she cranked the engine when I heard a voice next to me. "Here, let me try this", said the voice. This kindly gentleman was standing there with a can of ether in his hand. He sprayed it into the carburetor. Mary Anne pushed the starter and the engine roared to life. " I don't know where you kids think you're going on a night like this, but get on home".

        This wonderful man identified himself as Dr. (can't remember the name but he had an office next to Christ & Holy Trinity Church). Three years later, we went to him for out blood tests before getting married. We thanked him and followed his advice. I dropped Mary Anne off and headed home.

         Next morning, the news told of major flooding everywhere. The Post Road was closed in Norwalk where the Bridge went out. Bridges on the Merritt Parkway were washed out at several spots all the way to the New York line.

          Locally, every river and stream rushed over its banks. Many roads were impassable. 

         Sammy Friedson ran one of Westport's busiest Main Street Grocery stores (Economy Food Store) and was an officer in the National Guard. He was in charge of the emergency shelter at Greens Farms Elementary School. 

           

    All of a sudden, my biggest problem became getting back to Fort Monmouth. First reports appeared to rule out every route into New York. 

        I recalled once being advised a way to avoid being ruled as AWOL was to report into the nearest available military unit. I went to Greens Farms School. Sam looked at me like I was nuts when I told him I was reporting for  duty and told me to get lost.

        Finally, I decided to start early on Sunday morning and make my way via back roads to NYC across the George Washington Bridge and into New Jersey which had been spared any major storm damage. I remember the normal 3 hour drive taking 12 hours and a whole lot of detours. I was about four or five hours late and reported in to my company Executive Officer, Lt. Slutsky (funny how one name pops back into your head after after 65 years and the name of the good Doctor didn't). As the base h

ad not felt the brunt of the storm, he at first didn't believe me about why I was late. I finally convinced him to check the radio reports and he let me off with a reprimand, telling me to "plan better" in the future.

    Recovery from the floods of 55 took a long time. In Norwalk, a Bailey Bridge,  constructed by Army engineers supported traffic for months. Many homes and buildings along rivers and streams needed major repairs. The floods of 55 were possibly the worst since I lived in Westport. It also showed how only a few miles can spell the difference between a drizzle and a disaster.

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HURRICANE SEASON

                                HURRICANE SEASON 2020

                                                    by

                                            Dick Alley

        Big weather news breaking on Thursday, focused on Hurricane Iasias, possibly tracking up the east coast and reaching our general area by midweek. Hopefully the most serious aspect of this storm will be learning how to properly pronounce its' name.  Unfortunately, each update seems to raise the possibility of some rough weather ahead. Twenty-seven years of dealing with these storms as an emergency responder tells me that the possibility is worth some words in my blog.

Storm prep is important. It ranges from shopping early for food supplies and stocking up with enough food for a few days to extra flashlights and batteries in working order. Past storms have caused power outages of a week and more.  Whether we get a minimum hurricane or a tropical storm, there could be extended power outages.  Keeping your cell phones, Kindles, Nooks and laptops fully charged in advance of the storm is crucial. They can provide communication and entertainment. 

        BOAT OWNERS need to be  well aware of just where and how the storm is tracking. I owned a bunch of small fishing boats and docked them at either Compo or Longshore over the years. I learned my lesson early on when my first small runabout filled with water and sunk at the dock at Compo. It rained so hard that the charge on my battery ran out. The bilge pump stopped running. My boat went down.

       Tip number one - If you can trailer your  boat, the smart play is to take it out well before the storm gets here and park it in a safe spot sheltered from wind and falling trees. Bigger boats should be secured with extra docking lines even if moored in sheltered basins.   

        Tip number two - Don't wait until the wind  is blowing a gale to make necessary preparations. Flood tides will close roads to and from beach areas. Marina's will be closed hours prior to the storm's arrival. When the water rises, it's too late tp make it to Compo Beach or Longshore, Cedar Point or Saugatuck Harbor. 

        Boats moored out in "the hole"midway between Longshore and Saugatuck Shores will likely end up on Harbor Road if a hurricane hits. Past storms have even found them tangled in electrical wires from downed utility poles.  

       Having worked as a patrolman, a desk officer and a supervisor during a number of storms over the years, I can verify that things get very busy at the cop shop. Phones ring off the hook. Trees fall on houses. Transformers blow up. Tree branches big and small break off and fly in the wind. Even a small tree branch a foot or two in length propelled by a strong wind can cause a serious injury. 

        During one storm, a large group of young folks decided that the hurricane was a great time for body surfing at Compo. Of course it was our job to chase them back to safety. I think the only actual injury was when I was dinged side of the head by a small branch blowing in the wind, but none of us were too happy (except for the kids).

            Beach areas where tidal flooding occurs are especially dangerous. If you are asked to evacuate, please do so. Beach areas like Compo and Saugatuck Shores may not be reachable by emergency vehicles when the storm is raging. While body surfing, kite surfing and jumping in and out of a heavy surf sounds like fun it puts those folks who might have to rescue you in even more danger and for them it is not fun.

            Sometimes beach areas have to be evacuated. Inevitably,  some folks resist. One such incident occurred many years ago on my watch. I was shift supervisor and weather people were predicting a direct hit on our area and the word went out to evacuate.

               One of the best cops I ever worked with, the late Wayne Dolinski radioed that he needed a supervisor at a Soundview Drive residence. I responded and found that the Town ambulance and Westport EMS were all there pleading with a lady in her 90's to evacuate her beach  home. She was disabled and had a live-in caregiver who took her job seriously and also would not leave without her charge. We must have reasoned with the lady for a half hour, with the wind getting stronger by the minute. I asked her again, telling her that we would bring her back right after the storm was over. She was adamant. It was time for some tough love.

    "Do you have any relatives", I asked. "Only my daughter", she replied. "She lives in the city". "Can I have her telephone number", I asked?

    "What do you want that for", she questioned.  "Well, I replied," It appears you are not willing to leave. If you don't leave, you are probably going to die. If you die, she will have to be notified and I will need her number to make the notification."  

       It worked. She gave me the number. I was able to get through to the daughter who had no idea a hurricane was about to hit Westport. Thankfully, the daughter was able to talk Mom  into taking an ambulance ride to the evacuation center and five minutes later, she was on her way.  

        

        Latest bulletins as of Saturday afternoon have the storm arriving here on Tuesday evening. It has a long way to travel but one never really knows how bad these storms can be until they hit.

        I wasn't really aware of my first hurricane. It was the biggest ever to hit New England in 1938. I was three years old. I remember my Dad telling the story about how Gramps wanted him to go out and close the garage door, but not soon enough. Before he could get the door to the house open, the garage door was torn from its hinges. We found it in Percy Baker's yard a hundred yards down the hill the next day. While I don't remember the storm personally, Mom and Dad too some pictures which I will attach.  Keep in mind that the damages in these photo's occurred in Rockville, CT some 20 miles east of Hartford, a long toss from the coast.

This photo was at 90 Talcott Ave. in Rockville CT., the day after the 38 hurricane. I lived in the house on the left which belonged to my Grandfather/

This photo was taken at a beach in RI where 

Gramp's family had a summer cottage. The debris is of houses totally destroyed by the storm.

Normally a small stream of water flows through this tunnel under the Mill in Rockville. This torrent was in the aftermath of the storm.

        The latest reports have Tuesday's storm  under hurricane strength, but stay tuned to the weather in case things change.

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