Author Bios

Articles by this author:

  • Last Monday morning, while lying flat on my back on a cold, narrow, operating room table in a Manhattan hospital, an inordinate number of thoughts raced through my mind. It’s not an everyday situation to find yourself in, and your brain tends to go into overdrive.
  • Irony can be a bitter pill to swallow at times. A perfect example came about last week as my boat was pulled from the water for the season.
  • The jarring blast of chilling arctic winds that we experienced last week also abruptly created a thin glaze of ice on many freshwater ponds, and even a few saltwater coves and creeks. Most important, it served as a stern warning to me that having the very last boat still in the water at the marina may not be the smartest thing.
  • The fishing season for private boaters is quickly coming to a close.
  • I’ve never been an early adopter of the latest fishing techniques, baits, and tackle. Instead, I’ve tended to stick to the tried and true ways I learned. Stubbornness is not a good trait.
  • Why the anxiousness and lack of sleep on such an odd day in November? It’s pretty simple really: Monday at sunrise is the opening of the bay scallop season in state waters.
  • On Oct. 23, I joined a group of friends for a full day of fishing on the Oh Brother!, a charter boat out of Montauk whose captain, Rob Aaronson, and his first mate, Rudi Bonicelli, are seasoned pros who know the inshore and offshore waters around Montauk as well as anyone.
  • For many years, commercial fishermen in New York have complained about the inequities they faced in the numbers­­­ of summer flounder they could land (as well as other popular species), when compared to other states along the East Coast. The fight has gone on for nearly 30 years and continues to this day.
  • Everyone who fishes has his or her share of fish stories. Some are impossible to believe, while some are clearly embellished and need to be taken with a grain of salt, along with a wry smile of doubt. But some are actually the honest truth, no matter how far-fetched they may sound.
  • Bob Dylan did not write “the answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind,” here on the East End — it was probably in a brownstone apartment in Greenwich Village — but if the Nobel laureate has been in these environs over the past 10 days or so, he most certainly would have been inspired to pen that familiar refrain, as the gusty winds have been unrelenting of late, thwarting many a planned fishing trip.