Posts from the “Stupid Stuff” Category

Judas Goats and Other Memories of the Galapagos

Posted on February 21st, 2010

The Galapagos had a feral goat problem so the powers that be hunted them down and killed them. They used a tactic called the “Judas Goat,” where they captured a goat, fitted it with a radio collar, and released it back into the wild. The Judas Goat would return to the herd and scientists and hunters would track it by helicopter and gun them all down. They were conducting this on the islands of Isabela and Santiago during our trip there to chase striped marlin. We stopped at a spot the goats might be. There was a path marked by a goat skull nailed to a post. The last Judas here must have done his job; live goats were nowhere to be found. The…

Less Than Zero

Posted on February 13th, 2010

Florida is a cruel place to be when there’s fishing to be done and you’re not doing it. But I was down on someone else’s dime and had a job to do that didn’t allow for deviation, even to accept Marshall DeMott’s invitation to chase juvie tarpon. Not that the fishing would have been favorable. The thermometer dipped into the 30s at night–they had snow flurries up north in Tallahassee on Friday–and today the temp seems to be holding at 55 degrees with a fierce north wind blowing everything out of whack. These fish down here, they must be out of their minds, being run through a washing machine jumble of winter weather patterns over an extended period. Had I gone I could imagine a…

Liner Notes 1

Posted on February 7th, 2010

If you can’t handle rejection don’t write or fish. At least with fish, you know it’s nothing personal. A fish, with no cerebral cortex, is incapable of passing judgment. I project the thought process of a fish inspecting my fly to be this is food, this is not food or I could die, get gone. Brings out the cringe factor hearing someone use the phrase “match wits” with a fish.

If You Knew It Was Your Last For A While

Posted on February 4th, 2010

The fall didn’t end on such a hot note. The decent weather sandwiched between Noreasters left little windows of fishability. If you weren’t in a position to capitalize on those slots on the quick then, well, that was just too bad for you. Too bad for me for way too damn certain. [Exclamation point.] I’m off to Florida next week and I’m not so sure what I’m going to find. Some bad shit went down, man. I haven’t heard much about my ditches on the inside, but butterfly peacocks die when the water temps fall below 60 degrees. Usually not a problem in South Florida but this year…The only way to know for sure is to keep casting.

Subversive Elements in Children’s Literature

Posted on January 4th, 2010

Read a book 6,372 times in a year and minor details creep into your subconscious, fostering questions. How come you don’t say goodnight to the fly fishing rabbit? Why is the rabbit holding the net in mid cast? Why is he fishing for another rabbit? Is the illustrator promoting cannibalism? Pointless research reveals it is shameless self promotion. The fly fishing rabbit painting in Goodnight Moon is from a scene in another book by the author and illustrator, Runaway Bunny. Either way, I need to get out more.

HOW-TO: 5-Step DIY Rod Tube

Posted on January 1st, 2010

1. Go to hardware store. 2. Buy PVC stuff 3. Glue PVC stuff together 4. Breathe in PVC Glue, depress nervous system 5. Adorn with accumulated stickers [Inspiration derived from Urbn Outdoors last spring. He went further, making rod socks and streamer cases.] UPDATE: Original inspiration goes WAY BACK to the Headmaster of the Brownline School, JP the Roughfisher. Here’s his original post, with apologies for not remembering where I got the idea.

The Unfortunate Result of Drinking on the Job

Posted on December 15th, 2009

Beer is good for the recreational activities depending on the hand eye. When engaged in darts or pool at the local establishment, calibrating the right amount of beverage can lead the recreationalist into a zone where the table’s geometry unlocks its code or the dart flies freely from the hand into the triple 20. It works in fly fishing as well, to a point. In cleaning out the detritus from the last season, I came across the broken rod from above. I used it to land the pictured bass over the summer. With the help of tall boys, I had the patience to endure the nonchalance of this fish as it repeatedly ignored my offerings. And, when it finally made a move, I had…

Birds, Rip, Expectations

Posted on November 30th, 2009

Nothing like coming up on it and having it all laid out in front of you. The representative Northeast scene on a November day, with bait popping and birds busting. Only minor detail is, no one told the game fish. So unless I get a call about the herring run, and the coinciding means to be spontaneous, it ends with a whimper. There are some things on the horizon: The chance to try for my first chrome upstate around Christmas, the Bay Bridge and Tunnel prospect, the proposed  clown knife fish junket, and plans to push into the Florida back country. But it’s all nebulous at the moment. Until something is set in concrete, it’s time to learn some new knots, get underway with…

You’re Only As Faithful As Your Options*

Posted on November 25th, 2009

    In the piscatorial sense, we are all whores. No one does right by any one place or species. We experience long stints of faithful behavior to certain waters, or intense periods of focus in pursuit of a single fish, and sometimes we believe in our hearts that we are true. We are not. “I wish it would never end, this thing between me and you,” we tell the stripers all fall. “Forget about those albies that came rolling through in September. It was a lusty drunken physical thing.” And then winter comes and the striped bass go scarce and as Hank Williams Jr.** sings it, “But sometimes Lord, she just ain’t always around.”   There will be plenty of time for longing,…

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