Exit of a Man Called Horse

Things didn't really work out this season. I'm sorry I disappointed the three of you who make up my loyal fanbase.

If all goes well, I hope to finally do some exploring over the winter.

So, Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, and we'll meet again in the Spring of 2011.

Sam the Lion Remembers

I know I've been away. But I will return sooner rather than later.

In the meantime, the three of you visit this blog regularly--I mean the folks from Advance Publications in Manhattan, Westchester County government just north of the Bronx, and Sun Microsystems out in California--can enjoy this clip from Peter Bogdanovich's classic film, The Last Picture Show (1971). One of my favorite actors, the great cowboy Ben Johnson (whom I resemble a little), won the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor for his role as Sam the Lion, the aging patriarch of a dying small town in Texas. Sam, who acts as a father figure to some of the local high school kids who frequent his diner, pool hall, and little movie theater, takes two of them fishing. Although there's no fish to be caught in the "stock tank" (a reservoir used to water animals) where they go, Sam still goes there to enjoy the scenery and rekindle pleasant memories of a romance he had 20 years earlier. This is where he brought the woman (who was much younger and unhappily married). Those memories--and sharing them from time to time--keep Sam going and allow him to reconnect to a time when he wasn't "a decrepit, old bag of bones."

Although I usually go fishing by myself, this scene also brilliantly illustrates what Joe Pedulla once described to me as the "social aspect of fishing," talking to your companion(s) as you wait for the line to show some sign of life. One of the teens, Sonny (Timothy Bottoms), listens intently as Sam reminisces.

But It Was Only Fantasy

My losing streak continues. On Friday afternoon, I returned to Hudson Park. I wanted to try something. Many fishermen often rely on solunar calendars, which chart the phases of the moon. The In-Fisherman's solunar calendar (linked above) reported that the best day to fish was on Friday, when a new moon appeared. There's no astrology or voodoo involved, but the fish seem to be more active when there's a new or a full moon based on how it affects the Earth.

In my case, it didn't work out. I didn't even get a single bite. No one else I saw fishing caught anything either. So I guess it's not just me.

I picked up one dozen bloodworms from Jack's. They were out of fresh bunker. I decided to use all three lines to maximize coverage and increase my chances of catching something.

But nothing.

Is It Just a Waste of Time?

Yesterday, I made my second trip to Riverdale. The parking attendant told me that someone or some people caught a few big fish the day before.

I went to the last area on the promenade, the same spot I used last time. It was sunny and hotter than I expected. The tide was low, and it was coming in. I started fishing around 2:30.

Early on, I had two bites, which (combined with the parking attendant's report) increased my hopes of having a great day fishing.

As it turned out, it didn't work out that way.

At first I used two poles. Since there was little or no wind, I then used three. I had a couple of more bites, but failed to catch anything. As usual, I kept losing the bait. I didn't use the treble hooks I bought last year. I didn't just didn't feel like using them. Maybe that was a mistake.

I passed the time reading old articles I had ripped put of the Wall Street Journal. I listened to my iPod. I talked with a Metro North maintenance worker about fishing.

In the evening, the temperature dropped noticeably. I wished I had brought my sweatshirt or jacket.

After the sun disappeared behind the New Jersey side, the clouds came out. I thought this might increase my chances of catching something, but it didn't.

I packed up around 7 PM. I took a second box of bloodworms home with me to use next time.

My failure to catch anything today gave me a bad feeling: that this might turn out to be a really disappointing fishing season.

Unheeded Warnings, I Thought I Thought of Everything

Yesterday (Monday, May 3), the skies looked cloudy. I figured I would go fishing since I live for those type of overcast days.

I headed up to Hudson Park in New Rochelle. I went to Hudson Park Bait and Tackle to pick up bloodworms. The nice lady at the store told me they were out of bloodworms and fresh bunker. I was forced to settle for sandworms instead.

As I drove into the lot, I noticed the clouds getting darker and more ominous. A strong wind was moving the water. It started raining, and then the heavens opened up. I stayed in my car and didn't get wet. I figured I wait 15 minutes or so.

I got there a little after high tide around 4 PM. It eventually stopped raining, so I started fishing. As I set up, another fisherman, who also waited for the downpour to end, got out of his van. We exchanged nods.

I just used two lines. As the weather got better, the lot gradually filled up with more fishermen. I also saw a few fishermen across the water in Five Islands Park. They weren't fishing on the dock, where I usually fish, but on the nearby rocks. In fact, the nice lady told those rocks were the places to fish for stripers.

I had exactly two bites. Unfortunately, I didn't hook anything. I added fresh sandworms to the lines several times as the day went on. I reeled in the lines a little to attract the attention of any stripers or flounder who might be hungry.

In the evening, the sun even came out, and the water became perfectly still. I enjoyed it as I smoked another Butera Capo Grande cigar.

I wondered how things would have turned out if I took the long way and went to Jack's on City Island and picked up bloodworms and fresh bunker. I don't think it would have made much of a difference since I didn't see anyone else catch anything.

I gave up around 7 PM.

The Catches of the Day

A small perch.

A small striper.

The fish I caught were so small, they could have been used as bait. Still, it's better than nothing.

Thank you, St. Peter.

A Flight of Fancy on a Wind-Swept Field

Yesterday, I went to the Hudson River in Riverdale.

I bought two fresh bunker, two dozen bloodworms, and some supplies at Jack's.

After parking my car in the Metro North lot, I picked the last spot on the promenade area. Conditions were sunny and quite windy. Because of the wind, I used only two poles. I made my usual intercession to St. Peter, the patron saint of fishermen, and he responded.

I had my lines in the water by around 3 PM, a couple of hours before high tide. I didn't have bites the first couple of hours. I passed the time listening to my iPod and smoking a Butera Capo Grande cigar.

In the end, I caught three fish, one small perch and two small stripers. The perch measured about seven inches. The first striper was only six inches. The second was about seven-and-a-half inches. I caught all three with blood worms and returned all three to the water.

To date, I have suffered one major injury while fishing. Yesterday, a bloodworm bit my right index finger. It happened as I was removing it from the box in order to bait my rod. Yes, bloodworms have teeth. I've been bitten a few times before. This time, my index finger hurt. The pain seemed to go all the way to the bone. When I got home, I applied some Neosporin ointment and wrapped my finger in a bandage. The pain gradually went away. It's fine today. Even with bait, always be careful.

As the evening set in, the wind calmed down. Although it got colder, it was quite pleasant.

I left around 8 PM as darkness set in. I dumped the two fresh bunker, but the took the second box of bloodworms home with me. We have a refrigerator in the basement and can store them there for next time. Next time I come to Riverdale, I would like to try eels as well.

As always, I'm glad I caught something.

Author's Note: Sooner rather than later, I will start reusing Pink Floyd lyrics for my posts' titles.

Return of a Man Called Horse

I have returned. My fishing blog now begins its fifth year. I know I got started a little late this year.

I cleaned and respooled my three fishing poles. To shake off the winter rust, I took a quick fishing trip on Sunday afternoon. I was determined to avoid either Riverdale or New Rochelle for my first fishing trip on the season. I will certainly return to both places and perhaps even this week, but I feel I became too dependent on them last year.

I decided to try Mamaroneck Harbor (specifically Harbor Island Park) for the first time in many years. I remember catching a nice stripper (maybe 15 inches) here back in November 1996. I left my car on the street. I fished directly behind the Mamaroneck Volunteer Firemen's Memorial (probably not its exact name).

I got there before noon. There were a few clouds in the sky. There was a little wind, but not much. The water was shallow, and the tide was coming in.

I just used two poles, and used bloodworms for bait. I didn't intend to stay long. When I got there, I realized I picked a poor spot to fish.

One time, I thought I had a bite. I reeled it in, but it was nothing. I changed the bait a few times, but I didn't have any luck. I gave up around 2 PM. I wouldn't call it a wasted experience since I was determined to get started for the season.

If I want to avoid complacency, I know I have to explore more areas, not only in Westchester, but elsewhere.