NEVER FORGET YOUR FRIENDS!

 Ed Stalling & Joe Pysa take a break on a Rhode Island Beach!

I'm not sure just when, probably mid-1960's, but I remember taking this picture of two old friends on a Rhode Island beach when then let me tag along for a day of surf fishing.

Ed & Joe were friends long before I knew them. As young guys, they loved taking the drive to Lake Willoughby in Vermont where Ed had a cabin---and where he caught the big rainbow trout hanging on his wall for many years. They fished the salt water together too. They knew more about fishing the Norwalk Islands, the when, the where, the tides and weather to catch the biggest and the best.

Joe was a Game Warden. That's what everybody called them in those days and they eventually became Conservation Officers. Joe worked his way up to Fisheries Biologist. He worked closely with many other conservationists and scientists on early striped bass studies in Long Island Sound and on a Coastal level with Legends like Bob Pond. 

Ed was an ex-Marine who enlisted right after Pearl Harbor, fought ad was wounded in the Pacific, but made it back to raise his family in Westport. Three sons, followed him in the Marines, his youngest son Tim,  fought in Iraq.  Ed was my closest fishing buddy until a few years ago when cancer caught up to him. I fished with Joe a number of times too and  often ran into him on stocking days during trout season.

I miss them both and still stay in touch with families and while I'm in no big rush to get there, look forward to sharing some fishing tales with them when we meet again.

DWA

NO SCHOOL TODAY!

It was the late 1960's, a time when bluefish action was very strong. My son Todd was in third grade, but on this fantastic fall day there were better things to do than top go to school. Horrors! I took him fishing instead.

The blues were breaking at Burying Hill. They ran all day long from dawn to dusk feeding on peanut bunker. They drove the bait onto the beaches from Burying Hill to Bedford's Point and on the other side of this creek halfway up the length of beach to Billy's Rock on Sherwood Island. Every so often they would her the bait on up the creek. New Creek! It was simple to stand on the bank and cast. We watched them breaking at the top of the photo and a popping plug, any popper cast near the breaking fish would bring a strike. They weren't big, averaging maybe 3 to 5 - pounds, but they fought like twice their size.

I'm not sure just how much Todd missed in the ways of the Three R's that day, but neither of us ever forgot the fishing we experienced.

I don't think his education was really harmed. Today, he is a tenured educator with a Master's Degree.    - DWA

THE HIT!

THE HIT!

Carrying a camera has become as important to a fishing trip as rod, reel and tackle box. The photo's we take today are the memories of tomorrow. As an aging fisherman, photo-journalist, I have come to treasure the memories resulting from the many photo's, I've snapped over the past half-century. Recently, I discovered another box of slides in the basement and was astounded at the thoughts they triggered as I scanned them into the computer. That is the reason and the justification for this new blog. I thought it would be fun to share some of these long-ago fishing adventures. What better beginning than to relate the tale of the day when I captured the moment a big striper slammed a lure on the surface in the waters off Wiccapessett in Eastern Long Island Sound.

I think it was about 25 years back when my phone rang as I was watching TV after supper. It was Captain Greg Dubrule, then skipper of Seaweed Charters out of Noank. He was excited.

" Dick! Are you free tomorrow?", he asked. When I answered in the affirmative, he quickly told how there was a good bass bite happening and I should be at the dock by 3:30AM and if I wanted to bring somebody else, that was OK too. I turned to my son Todd, asked if he wanted to go fishing, got the nod and quickly answered that we would be there. 

We arrived on time, and headed out in the dark to first fish some live eels at a couple of Greg's favorite spots. WE came up empty, but Greg wasn't discouraged. Day was breaking and the skipper had plenty of possibilities. As darkness turned to light, he eased his boat between a couple of huge boulders, just visible beneath the surface. The current was strong and he handed Todd a heavy-duty spinning rig, big enough to toss a bright red Reverse Atom. He pointed to a spot about a hundred feet away, where a tidal rip emphasized the appearnce of another big rock just beneath the surface. 

"Drop your plug right next to that boulder", he instructed. Todd  made a perfect cast, landing the big plug a foot from the rck. "Give it a splash", said Greg as Todd leaned into the rod, making the big plug gurgle. That's when the fish hit. I was lucky enough to have my camera trained on the lure and caught the fish as it grabbed the big Atom plug.

We enjoyed a fantastic day of striper fishing, thanks to Captain Greg.Catching the photo at the exact moment the fish hit was a bonus.  - DWA

HOWARD DREYFUSS

HOWARD DREYFUSS

This photo was taken sometime in the early 1970's. Howard was an old friend who I met on a Westport Beach and occasionally exchanged fishing stories with.

It had been a good morning at Burying Hill Beach in Westport and the action was just about over. It's obvious that Howard had enjoyed a great day of bluefish action as I took the time to snap some photo's in the aftermath. I see Westport fishing fixture Doc Skerlick casting in the background but Doc is a story for another day.

Howard was an exceptional human being. A former Ct State Representative and a member of the Diplomatic Corps, he had traveled throughout the world, spending a lot of time in post-WWII China. 

When I had the film developed, I liked this picture and had a print made which I gave to Howard. He was very appreciative, but I didn't realize how much he liked it until weeks later when he knocked on my back door and presented me with his own favorite fishing rod, an Orvis Battenkill bamboo rod. He explained that he wouldn't be around much longer and wanted me to have the rod as he knew I would care for it. He told me he had fished the rod all over the world.

A few weeks later, Howard passed away. The rod remains one of my fishing treasures.      - DWA