Tough one - but the best time I ever had fishing was Memorial Day, 2003.
I went to visit my brother in New Hampshire. We borrowed our friend Rob's center console and headed to the Merrimack River (seperates MASS & NH).
It was just me and my brother, and boy did we whack them.
We stopped counting at 120 striped bass - and we caught alot more. Nothing over 34" but on 10lb spin tackle it was a blast. We watched guys chunking herring catching some, but nothing like we where. The bass where on sandeels, and the sluggo was the perfect match.
Took my 3 year old nephew to Disney world. Ask him what his favorite part of Disney was and he'll tell you it was catching his first fish in the lake behind the hotel, got him hooked. My best time fishing I can remember, even though they were small bass.
My best fishing memory is from many years ago when I was a kid growing up in Miami. My dad had been an Air Force pilot and had retired and gone to work for a govt owned airline literally the next day. He stayed gone for months at a time and when home rarely had time to go fishing. This went on for years, when I was 15 my parents seperated and my mom and sister moved to Va. and I stayed in Miami with my dad. He was still flying but had cut back to 3 days a week. I had been fishing alone for years but something was missing. One Saturday morning my dad asked me if I wanted to go fishing. Of course I did!!!! He said we'd go to any place I wanted to go, so we headed to my secret tarpon spot. My dad had never done anything but troll for Dolphin and other offshore fish. We walked a trail through the mangroves for about 500yds. My dad asked if I new where we were going, I said it was a place I had found several months before and had not told anybody about, he was more than a little skeptical. The trail ended at an open area that was about 50 yds long and bordered a crystal clear lagoon 100yds wide and 100yds long. There were Tarpon rolling everywhere, no big ones, all about 20-40lbs. My dad had never caught a Tarpon and I explained how we needed to fish for them. We were using mirro-lures and the fun began. We spent hours jumping Tarpon, catching Jacks and even a nice sized Snook. My dad and I had a ball, when we finished we headed back to the truck. My dad to this day very rarely shows his soft side, but that day he told me how proud he was of me and that he had missed a lot of time with me but that was going to change. That day started a whole new chapter in my life and Saturday fishing trips became a weekly event that lasted until I joined the military several years later. Whenever we get together we talk for hours about those days fishing my secret spots, it will be a sad day for me when he's no longer around to sit and talk with. He made me the man I am today.
best day ever was last year at massy's canyon with my dad and my buddy chunking for bft about mid day the live spot starts screaming off the 50wide was losing line fast on 22lbs of drag finally got the fish to slow when i looked in the slick and saw about 30 mahi and about a doz more tuna they sat there and caught all by one mahi while i faught this huge tuna about an hour and a half later we got the fish boat side stuck it with the hook and then thought about how to get this thing in the boat 5 mins later and 2 more gaffs we got it in 189lbs on the dot when we got back to the marina a cooler full of mahi and alot of big smiles
a couple of years ago my father and i set out on a late season overnighter aboard the canyon runner. it was to be capt. phils last trip of the season so our hopes were high. arriving on the edge sometime after 1pm we had fish on the scope almost immediatly. within minutes the first fish on the chunk was boated. no sooner as the deck was cleared another fish was on. my dad took that one. clear that fish...bamm. i took the next..clear...fish on again.
now, my dad hasnt completely lost his mind about tuna fishing like some of us have so half way into the fight of his second fish he handed me the rod and said, " i am too old for this sh&t..i am going to let you guys do the work... i am going to make a drink.( cc manhattan on the rocks w/ a twist of lemon)"
sometime later as i was reeling in my tenth fish i said to the mate ," this is insane, my arms are going to fall off." i was nervous about dropping a rod in the drink. each mate reeled in a fish after that. my dad and i discussed the trip' success and thought we could just head in. we told phil to start them up, we'd had enough. he made a face, whimpered a little, and started towards the dock. about one mile into the trip he throttled down and instructed us to put the lines back in. we boated another few fish and then, only then, did he bring us home. phil, my dad and i with the mates finished off the season in grand fashion on phils terms. he was upset not to stay overnight but we were back at the dock for giants monday night football and brought with us a full load of tuna. i think i finished the trip accounting for a personal best by far, 12 tuna in less than five hours. i am sure adam has the pictures to go along with this story.
my dad and i still recount that story whenever we talk tuna.
My story starts off with a man in love with a woman. He asks her to marry him over the Christmas Holiday and she says yes. It’s all about the love. Now, for the next 18 months, while they plan their lives together, the future “Best Man” and “Groomsman” are up to no good. Just as the future groom had hoped.
Well, I am that groom and my “Best Man” and “Groomsman” planned a great Bachelor party. The “Best Man” will be referred to, as “The Dirty Hippie” and the Groomsman will be “Hubukai”. Pronounced Who-Boo-Kie.
After about 5 minutes of deliberation, we decided to go where we always go, Key West, Fl. Now, to give you some background…we’re infamous in Key West. Many years back The Dirty Hippie and myself took Hubukai there for his bachelor party and started off a tradition that will last a long time I think. We try to go at least once a year on “Guys Only” vacation. We have gone there so much that we can walk into certain establishments and they yell out “Philly In The House”, take off their clothes and we pay them. But that story is for another web site.
Now, in all the time I have gone to Key West with the intention of going fishing, I have never landed a Sailfish. I have caught plenty of Mahi-Mahi, Kingfish, Barracudas and even some rare Groupers, but never one of those beautiful Sailfish. As you can tell, this trip would probably change that.
The day starts off without a cloud in the sky, 5 slightly hung-over men who should have known better, a couple of box lunches and a desire to head out to sea. Its 6:30am and we’re late, of course. Capt. Bennett understands that we’re always late and heads over to fuel up. He has been our Captain for the past few years and I believe that he is the sole reason we catch fish when we are there. The mate leans over to me as we’re heading out and says that the wind is from the East and this means we’re going to catch sailfish, just like some Spiritual Guru. About 20 minutes after catching our bait for the day, we hit “The Spot”, now “The Spot” was easy to tell, a big buoy, a clear line between dark blue and light blue water and about 30-40 other boats.
When we go fishing we decide an order in which everyone grabs a line. There were 5 of us, and me being the bachelor got the first crank. The mate tosses out the first bait and while rigging up line number two…..a small Mahi Mahi takes off with it and a few seconds later we have dinner. Now the mate gets the rest of the lines in the water and Captain Bennett gets the kite out. Within 30-40 minutes….Captain Bennett spies a dark mass in the water and a few seconds later, we have a SAILFISH….Pete “The Flipman” was on the line. We let Pete go second because he had never been fishing for anything bigger than a flounder before. I don’t know how much time went by but Pete was smiling ear to ear when he was done. Not to long after that……WHAM! SAILFISH #2 is off and running. Hubukai took his shot and landed his fish. Not bad for being on a boat for less than two hours. Expecting a lull, I kicked back in the cabin to sit down for a few minutes. I don’t think I had been sitting down for 5-10 minutes when I hear “Fish On”. Mike “Land ‘Em” Landow brings in a Falsie that dove for the bottom like he had a 250lb eight around his neck. Within 20 minutes, , the Dirty Hippie grabs the rod and cranks in a barricuda well over 4 feet long. Nasty critter he was. At this point we have two sailfish, a mahi mahi, a barracuda and a falsie…..and its not even noon. This day has been awesome so far and we haven’t even gotten to the best parts!!!!
A little while goes by and I’m on the rod again when we nail another falsie. This guy was small but gave a great little fight…..
Now the fun begins….The Flipman is on the rod and what hooks up……SAILFISH #3. Can you believe it…..this guy has never been deep sea fishing before and hooks up with two Sailfish in one day. Amazing. He is struggling with this one when Captain Bennett goes nuts……SAILFISH #4 just took a bait…..Hubukai grabs the rod and starts his battle. Meanwhile….Flipman is getting tired but screw him……he’s going to have to work it. Oh, didn’t I mention…….SAILFISH #5 grabs a bait and starts heading to Cuba. Land Em is hooked up with than one. We have THREE Sailfish on at one time and yes, they are fight like beasts. This is now referred to as a Chinese firedrill. Hubukai lands his first and then the Captain makes a decision to back up on the Flipmans…… unfortunately Cuba is the other directions and that is where Land Em’s fish is. Pete finally gets his fish up to the boat and “Tag” he is caught. The captain set the trans in drive and takes off after Land Em’s fish….his arms are cranking away and he looks tired, very tired. He gets the fish up to the boat and the mate pulls it in for a picture….Land Em deserved that photo….Five on, Five landed in one day…….oh yeah, I have video of the three of them fight their fish at the same time. I can post the link but it’s a real big file. If you want to download it, email me and I will send you a link.
Well, its been a crazy day so far…….about 6+ hours into our full day trip…..we’re just all feeling really good about ourselves…….those guys with their Chinese Fire Drill and The Dirty Hippie and I for filming it……we out of the corner of my newly purchased, $19.99 polarized sunglass, I see a dark blue mass on our Port side…..”Pa Pa Pa Pa……..PORT SIDE FISH ON!!!!”. I finally get it out of my mouth when the mate goes flying………SAILFISH #6 is on and the Dirty Hippie has got the stick….now up until today….the Dirty Hippie was the only one to ever catch a sailfish but after only a minute or two, the fish threw the hook…..we all felt bad, the first fish lost of the day. Usually, if a fish gets off in the beginning of the fight, we let the guy stay on for the next fish and that was the plan……as I said “was.”
My friend, the Dirty Hippie, did the coolest thing a guy could do for another guy, with the possible exception of hooking him up with his sisters nymphomaniac swimsuit model friend…..…….SAILFISH #7 hit the line and it was going to be last fish of the day……and he gave up the rod to me because I had never caught a sailfish. And this fish was no slouch……probably came in well over 100lbs and 8ft long, at least. This fish took me a good 20 minutes to land but I will say it was incredible. My choice for Best Man couldn’t have been more appropriate.
The guys who took me away are the best bunch of guys, the guys that actually went fishing….got a trip to remember.
Well, that’s my story………Tight Lines to everyone!!!!
WELL I USED TO GO CAMPING WITH MY GRANDFATHER UP TO HILLS CREEK UP IN TIOGA COUNTY PA... ALL WE DID WAS FISH OFF A LITTLE ROW BOAT WELL THAT TIME IT WAS ME ,MY UNCLE ALBERT, MY GRAND FATHER AND DAD... WE HOOKED INTO THIS MUSKY AND MAN WAS IT BIG PULLING THE BOAT AROUND FOR LIKE 15 MIN MY UNCLE ALBERT WAS SCREAMING IT WAS THE LOCHNESS MONSTER AND I WAS SCREAMING I WAS ONLY ABOUT 7 AT THE TIME 25 NOW AND I WAS SCARED MY DAD WAS YELLING AT MY UNCLE TO STOP AND MY GRANDFATHER WAS YELLING AT ME TO STOP CRYING.. AND ALL IN THIS TIME MY GRANDFATHER GOT IT BOAT SIDE HE MADE ONE TURN AROUND TO YELL AT MY UNCLE ABLERT AND THEN THE ROD BROKE IT WAS ONE OF THOSE OLD RODS MY GRANDFATHER HAD FOR SUCH A LONG TIME... NOW ALL WE HAVE LEFT OF THE MEMORY IS THE BROKEN ROD HANGING AT THE CAMP... I REALLY MISS THOSE DAYS HAVEN'T REALLY BEEN TO CLOSE WITH MY GRANDFATHER SINCE MY MOM STOPPED TALKING TO HIM BUT SINCE THIS BRANG BACK SO MANY MEMORIES I THINK I MIGHT CALL HIM SEE IF HE WANTS TO GO OUT ON A PARTY BOAT OR SOMETHINGHE IS ABOUT 74 YRS OLD NOW I KNOW I WILL BE UPSET IF I DON'T GET TOHOOK UP ONA BIG ONE WITH HIM THERE.... THANKS FOR MAKING ME REMEBER MY BEST MEMORY FISHING.
It was the July moon of 1984. I was rockin and rollin in my fishing career and moving forward at full speed. I had built up a small fleet with boats in Jersey, The Keys and St.Thomas. Still something felt empty about it. My father was a Fortune 500 CEO and though he supported and encouraged my choice to persue fishing, I always felt that some how he was unsure about it. As I was always looking for some way to demonstrate what I do as legitimate to him, I decided to fly him down and fish him during the hottest bite of the year.
Past my means, I was bound and determined to impress him. I added an extra mate for the trip, rented first class accomodations and really cleaned my rig up for his arrival. When he flew into the nightmare of an airport we had there, I was waiting with a fist full of Cuban Cigars he so dearly loved. Dinner with the crew at the finest restaurant in town and cocktails at the Yacht Harbor...
I pushed the throttles hard and the 6v71 Johnson Towers delivered the ponies to my 42' Post for the 22mile run to the drop. I was in my infancy with lure making and decided to deploy tried and true Moldcraft wide range and hooker models rather than rish splashing a "helicopter" in front of him. Ten minutes into the drag I could see a fish closing in. I passed off the wheel to Davey (my first mate) and got to the pit in a blink. The 400 class blue piled on the pink and chartreuse soft offering and bowed right up. My Dad's bright blue eyes lit up brighter than the fish when it launched. As I was preparing to put the 80w in his gimble my Dad vanished behind me.
"You fight that thing. Its Got shoulders like Dick Butkiss!"
"Get in the chair Dad..."
"Bullshit! I don't know how to use one of those bent butt things , you show me how its done!"
I took the chair and Davey set my machine to going backwards against the six foot slop that always dominated the "drop". Fifteen minutes later, the fish was released by Craig, my extra mate."See Dad, nothin to it..."
He seemed to relax some. Possibly because he watched how it was done or, was it really because he thought we had our one shot for the morning and he could play macho until his afternoon nap? I popped the spread back out and checked the drags. Up in front of us I could see birds working and I would never give up a shot at a quick yellowfin for the table or fresh skipjack for a pitch bait. I slid a small ballyhoo into the wash on a 20lb outfit.
Just as I pushed its lever forward I saw a 500 class blue one surfing down a wave at my left inside bait. I set the 20 down and got to the other outfit just as the Mustad 7731 found its mark. Before my Dad could budge, I had it in the gimbal and had the clips from the Murray Brothers bucket seat clipped off.
"Oh no you don't. That fish is bigger than that other monster you just caught!"
"Dad, put your feet on the pedestal and lean back. You don't need to hold the pole so tioght!"
"God Damnit you're not getting my estate that easy!"
" Dad, shut up, sit back and enjoy the ride."
I went about clearing the other lines and when I got to the last one, the 20lb stick, another blue showed up and piled on the hoo! Doubled up on nearly identical blues, I decided to motion to Davey to get back on my dad's first as it was likely that we could actually get that one. Mine would surely be a freak thing if we got her. Water poured over the transom as Davey tested the limits of my trannies and running gear.
I could see the fish was pushing 500 which back then was acceptable to kill as the natives always appreciated when we gave them meat. That gift was usually returned with intrest in the form of labor, local food, rum or transport around the island. Even though both fish were stretched out pretty far I had Craig ready the flyers.
My dad finally got the hang of working the bent butt and bucket seat combo. It was so great coaching him through it. I closed my eyes and drifted back to the first blue I ever captained ato and fought at Walkers Cay, where it was him doing the coaching. I could feel the same sweat burning my eyes now, here in my role reversal. TWenty minutes later I benched my rod and stroked the fish Craig now had on the leader. The "C" GULL III" rolled in the trough as the colors of the fish muddied in her death throws. In through the door she came and now it was time to focus on mine.
The fish ran down sea allowing Davey to come back on her nicely. With only seven feet of leader and six pounds of drag ,at any moment the fight could have ended with a straight rod; but luck smiled and the fish stayed up top until Craig planted the flyer in her tail section. Water flew high then the big fish went quiet.
Not a word needed to be exchanged. It was understood that Dad and I had one of those consumate father/ son moments going on. It didn't seem to matter much that he caught yet another blue that afternoon or that I caught a nice yellowfin. I only slightly missed my 500 guess on the two fish. His weighed 486 and mine 484 back at the dock. The natives rejoiced in their windfall gift of mountains of meat. Today the mounted bills adorn my office and the now quiet office where he once sat. That defining memory of Dad and I sweating it out doing combat in the Virgin Island sun, is forever etched in my mind. That day the passing of the torch so to speak took place. Past that we came to realize in the shadows of the the four flags we had flying in the Red Hook marina that what we had was beyond simple father son bonding. It was a relationship of lifetime fishing buddies. That day, dear friends is forever cherished in my mind and shared when ever I can. Thanks for reading...
I was fihing with my son Philip who was 10 yo at the time on the Indian River Sportsmans club in Oak Orchard, Delaware. It was about 10 PM and we could hear large fish hitting bait on the surface, all of a sudden my son calls out " Daddy help!!!" I turn around and the 9 ft pole he was holding on to has a serious bend to it and he's getting dragged down the dock. I grab hold of him and he fights this fish for 15 minutes. The thing is running all over the place and when we finnally get a glimpse it turns out to be a very large sting ray. I was an emergency room RN and just recently treated a guy who got stung so the story was fresh in Philip's mind. We hauled it out of the water and Philip overcame his fear and I showed him the buisness end and how to avoid getting stung. I had a heart attack when I saw him getting dragged away but he never let go of the pole.
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