Lost another buddy

[Seaker]

RIP Frank Stout

Most of you know me as a salt water guy but my roots go way back to fly fishing way before a river ever ran through it. I was blessed to meet and become friends with many talented individuals. Frank was such a person and in his memory let me share a tale or two with you.

Frank was a newspaper editor for a large Philadelphia paper for many years before retirement where he became a teacher in north Worcester county. He had the amazing ability to voice or mouth call many different game animals without the use of diaphragm or reed calls. He could voice call or create a crow and owl fight that would have the crows dive bombing you.

Back in the day of my fly fishing and fly tying all of us guyz had young family’s and at times purchasing money for tying supplies just wasn’t there. So a bunch of us got together and would share stuff, pheasant skins, red fox, mallard and wood duck plumage all got dividy up. We were tying mostly for trout back then until the obsession took full control over almost everything we did. Good hackle was hard to come by and when you did find it quite expensive but more on that later just a moment.

The right Rod Sir if you would!

We really pounded the Squanacook river because it was close and it fished pretty well. One day Blacky and Franky were working a pool and down the bank came a nattily attired gent sporting the latest and greatest right out of the pages of Orvis. Now we had about 25 patches in each wader from the abuse they took and most of our stuff leaked pretty good. But we could fish with the best of them. So Blacky and Franky welcomed the newcomer into the pool as we always shared the water. Both were well finished their ability to throw a fly line. First Frank then Blacky and they are laying out 60 feet of line no effort. The new comer is having a horrible time of it and his casting prowess says novitiate. After a bit Blacky asked if he could try the fellows rod. Frustrated with his casting the fellow passes Blacky the rod and with one or two false casts Blacky lays it out like a pro but Blacky is left handed. The fellow tries again and fails. Then Frank takes the fellows rod and casts left handed and lays out another sixty feet..no effort. Frustrated no end the fellow ask these two what do they think he’s doing wrong. Frank without ever missing a beat says someone has sold you a left handed rod. Fellow thanks them and leaves to return to ill fitting rod

Free Hackle
Our group is Litzy, Weeksy, Franky and me. Litzy has a line on some free hackle. Rhode Island Reds, Barred Rock man o man this is too good to be true..free hackle.

Well we get into the details and we find that Litzy has found a farmer and the farmer is going to retire and will give us some roosters and hens free for the taking. Our plan is simple we’ll off the chickens and roosters, cape out the feathers and cook the carcass. What a win free hackle and dinner to boot.Litzy and Frank pick up the volunteer poultry at the farmers house and show up at my place where Weeksy meets up. I asked how are they going to do them in. I live on a lake and think maybe drowning but once again we are working with the masters and all that wet plumage is never going to cure correctly.

Plan B
The guyz get some burlap bags and they will euthanize them with the exhaust of the Franky’s van. It takes some time and while this is going on someone broke out some beer, Pabst Blue Ribbon if I remember correctly, and some of last winters jack. Jack is made from apple pressings put into a barrel and what doesn’t freeze in the dead of winter is Jack. By the time all the poultry is done in, copious amounts of Jack and Pabst has been consumed. An executive decision was made that we should not attempt to cape out the chickens until the following morning less one or more of us loose a finger to a sharp instrument. Now we are not citified and know that if we leave out the poultry the foxes and raccoons would surely dine on our new prize.

I still don’t know how or who but the chickens ended up in Franky’s basement in the burlap bags. Miracle or miracles occurs and they return to life only to begin crowing up a storm around 0500. Franky’s wife who has also come to pass, was never a big fan of sporting gents, and she was outraged at all the wildlife in the basement whooping it up celebrating salvation. She screamed Franky’s name so loud and so many times that poor Franky was chasing chickens with a throbbing head from the jack and his BVD’s. He called out to Litzy for reinforcement and the two showed up at my place the next morning with renewed vigor. Well we did get the hackle and two days later my wife let me back into the house only after making holy vows it would never happen again.

Waste not want not
We cleaned the birds and now sober enough to plead our case showed everyone all the free food we had. Well I will only say these birds gave new meaning to the term free range. They must have been marathon runners they were so tough no matter what you did they were not edible.


Frank will be buried in small plot close to the banks of the Squanacook

Rest in peace my friend Franky

[tunatamer4]

sorry to hear of your loss seaker.

[Captain Michael Buffington]

It's hard to lose a fishing buddy

[HOLWACHAGOT]

Sorry for your loss Seaker. Prayers up and out for those affected.
Holwachagot

[gottaflylee]

Seaker, What a great story and read. I feel you pain with your loss of your friend as I returned to Wilmington today as I friend from my childhood that I sent many hours in the boat with is the last stages of cancer and I want to spend another day or 2 with him. It is a fact that with memorys like that your friend will live on forever...

[squirtis]

Seaker, great story and your connection to this person is obvious. Thank you for sharing.

Sorry for your loss.

Curtis

[SeaBiscuit]

May God rest Frank Stout.
Thank you Seaker for the wonderful eulogy.
SeaBiscuit

[WAHOONBOX]

KEEP YA CHIN UP VINNIE....PRAYERS FOR THE FAMILY SENT UP........

[POON MAN]

Nice tribute to THE MAN

RIP