Monte Burke

Property Rights Versus Public Access on Trout Streams

fieldandstream-editor — Thu, 31 May 2007 20:00:00 -0400

Beaver grew up in Bellwood, Pa.—not far from the present-day headquarters of his club—on the eastern ridge of the Allegheny Mountains, the epicenter of the state's best trout water. For four generations, his family leased and owned 1,700 acres on the banks of the Raystown Branch of the Juniata River, excellent hunting and fishing land that they had to themselves.

The World Record Controversy

fieldandstream-editor — Tue, 21 Mar 2006 06:30:00 -0500

Controversy has always been a big part of the chase for the world-record largemouth bass, starting from the very beginning: George Perry's 22-pound 4-ounce bass caught in the backwoods of Georgia on June 2, 1932. Skeptics have always doubted the veracity of Perry's catch, pointing to the fact that there is no photo or mount of the fish, and that it was weighed on a scale in a country store, then eaten by Perry and his family. Nevertheless, Perry's fish is now entering its 74th year atop the International Game Fish Association (IGFA) record book.

But another fish, perhaps even more controversial, now threatens to supplant it. At 6:45 on the morning of March 20, on Lake Dixon, a 70-acre drinking-water reservoir in Escondido, California, Mac Weakley, a casino gaming worker, landed a largemouth bass that has turned the fishing world on its head. His fish, which weighed 25 pounds 1 ounce on a friend's handheld scale, will eclipse the current world record if it stands up to the rigorous standards set by the IGFA, the keeper of all fishing records. As it stands now, that is a big "if."

Here's how the story goes: On Sunday, March 19, Mac Weakley watched from the dock at Dixon as a few feet away stood an angler named Kyle Malmstrom, in a rented boat, throwing repeated casts over a big bedding bass. Weakley asked how big it was, and Malmstrom answered that it was around 15 pounds. "He was telling me that his wife was really upset with him because he had been here all day," says Weakley. Malmstrom then offered to give Weakley a look at the fish and picked him up on the shore.

After taking one glance at the giant she-fish, Weakley said, "That's Jed's fish," referring to the 21-pound 11.2-ounce fish that his fishing partner and best friend, Jed Dickerson, had landed in 2003, the fourth-biggest largemouth bass of all time. He told Malmstrom that it was a 20-plus-pounder.

Malmstrom dropped Weakley off on the shore and went back out onto the lake. Weakley called Dickerson, who was at home, and told him to get to the lake. Dickerson arrived and asked Malmstrom if he was going to fish for it all day. Malmstrom said yes.

Weakley says that he was sure that if he and Dickerson had half an hour with the fish, they could catch it. He called out to Malmstrom and offered him $1,000 and some free fishing rods to let them try for the bass, even showing two young anglers on the dock the money, which he had in his pocket. Malmstrom refused and fished the rest of the day, 11 hours total. But he came up empty.

Meanwhile, Weakley, Dickerson, and another friend, Mike "Buddha" Winn, worked on a plan. The trio had been pursuing the world-record bass on Dixon for five years. They knew that this just might be their big chance. They decided to get a camping permit, which would allow them to be the first ones on the lake the next morning. That night they talked strategy over the phone.

The next morning, Dickerson arrived at the lake at 4 A.M. Weakley and Winn went off to get doughnuts. At 5:45 A.M., they got their permit (Dixon allows fishing by permit only in rented boats with trolling motors) and went down to the dock, barely beating two brothers, Daniel (14) and Steve (18) Barnett, who had also seen the fish the day before. "We were the first in line at the concession stand," says Steve Barnett. "We were pretty stoked. But those guys beat us to the water." The brothers decided to stand and watch from the nearby dock. "We had nothing else to do," says Steve.

On the water, the Weakley-Dickerson-Winn trio found the nest of the bedding fish and took turns casting for it. The morning was rainy and windy, which chopped up the water and decreased visibility in the normally clear lake. When Dickerson was casting, the fish bumped his white Bob Sangster rattlesnake jig three times, but he missed on each occasion. He passed the rod to Weakley, who also tried to set the hook three times withoout connecting. "We couldn't see that well," says Weakley.

Then, at around 6:40, Weakley felt his line twitch and swung the rod, finally hooking the fish. The bass dove for the depths in the middle of the lake. Weakley reeled the fish back to the boat. Winn dipped the net into the water and only got half of the giant fish in. It escaped and dove again. But in short order, Weakley led her back. This time Winn netted it.

But there was a problem. The jig was embedded in the fish's back, 3 inches behind the dorsal fin. "We yelled, Â¿Â¿Â¿Oh man, it's foul-hooked,'" says Steve Barnett, who watched the entire episode with his brother from the dock only a few feet away and says that it was "an insanely enormous bass. It was just insane how big it was."

According to Barnett, the trio then told them that they were going to talk in private, motored out into the lake, and spoke for a few minutes. The fish was on a stringer attached to the boat. When they returned to the dock, Weakley and Dickerson weighed the fish on a brand-new handheld Berkley digital scale. The scale read 25 pounds 1 ounce, which would beat the previous world record by nearly 3 pounds.

Weakley and Winn strained to lift the fish with one arm for photos. They also shot some video. Barnett says that either Weakley or Dickerson at that point said, "Look, there's a mark on its back and we don't know what's up with that." Barnett says he and his brother were a bit mystified by the comment, replying, "We saw you foul-hook it, though." Weakley then told Winn and Dickerson to release the fish. They did, and what might be the new world-record bass swam lazily out of view into Dixon's deeper water.

Dickerson and Weakley claim that the fish was definitely the same one that Dickerson had landed in 2003, which was reputedly the same one that Mike Long, another noted world-record chaser, had landed in 2001, when it weighed 20 pounds 12 ounces. The fish had the same prominent dime-size black dot just under its gills.

Weakley neither measured the length and girth of the fish nor weighed it on a certified scale, two requisites of an IGFA world-record application. "At that point, since it was foul-hooked, I just said let's weigh it and let it go," he says. "There is no doubt in my mind that this is the biggest bass that anyone has ever seen. It is the world record. And me and Mike and Jed got to hold a 25-pound bass. No one else has ever done that."

Although IGFA officials have said they will review the catch if submitted, Weakley says he's not sure if he will pursue the record. He says he would turn in the scale, photos, and videotape if he did.

Ray Scott, the founder of BASS and an advisor to the IGFA, says they shouldn't even bother. "Nobody wants to see the record broken more than I do. I'm as enthralled with the record pursuit as anyone. But there are certain things you have to do to certify the record. These guys-especially these guys who've been after the record for a while-knew what those steps were and they didn't do it," referring to the lack of measurements and failure to use an IGFA-certified scale.

Scott, known as the godfather of catch-and-release fishing, makes an exception to his philosophy for the most venerable world records, like that for the largemouth bass. "If you catch the record bass, you have to have the corpse," he says. "Without it, we'll never know for sure. Now only God knows."

Field and Stream Profile: Mickey Ellis, the Maker of the Largemouth Bass Lure Armageddon

fieldandstream-editor — Thu, 31 Mar 2005 19:00:00 -0500

On the lunatic fringe of america's $12 billion bass fishing industry there exists a small but dedicated group of mostly anonymous individuals who have boiled down what they want out of life to a single goal: breaking George Washington Perry's 72-year-old world record for catching a 22-pound 4-ounce bass. These men and women are engaged in a race against one another and the ghosts of Perry and his fish, and they have forsaken their families, jobs, sleep, sanity, and money in pursuit of this seemingly unattainable achievement.

Thou Shalt Catch the Big One

fieldandstream-editor — Thu, 24 Mar 2005 05:05:00 -0500

Adapted from Sowbelly: The Obsessive Quest for the World-Record Largemouth Bass 2005 by Monte Burke, out this month from Dutton, A Division or Penguin USA.

On the lunatic fringe of America's $12 billion bass fishing industry there exists a small but dedicated group of mostly anonymous individuals who have boiled down what they want out of life to a single goal: breaking George Washington Perry's 72-year-old world record for catching a 22-pound 4-ounce bass. These men and women are engaged in a race against one another and the ghosts of Perry and his fish, and they have forsaken their families, jobs, sleep, sanity, and money in pursuit of this seemingly unattainable achievement.

Although these world-record chasers operate in relative obscurity compared to the pros of the Bassmaster Tour, they all need one perfect tool to complete their quests-the lure, that tantalizing object that bass find appetizing or irritating enough to strike and get themselves hooked. For the best lures, these seekers look to an even more distilled subset of obsessives, the boutique big-bass lure makers, a group of men in search of that divine spark needed to triumph in their own impossible-seeming race to produce the one perfect lure, the one that would replace Perry's iconic Creek Chub Wiggle Fish No. 2401.

Big companies such as Berkley and Strike King mass-produce plastic worms, crankbaits, buzzbaits, spinners, and poppers by the hundreds of thousands for the average bass fisherman. The aisles of sporting-goods departments in every Wal-Mart in the country are lined with their products: Power Worms, Tube Lizards, Wild Thangs, Zara Spooks, Hula Poppers, and thousands of others. These lures are inexpensive, and for the most part, they do the job.

But big-bass anglers, particularly those who are chasing the record, tend to see the world a bit differently. They are not satisfied with the 2-pound bass the weekend warrior brags to his coworkers about on Monday morning. No, they are looking for something different-special lures that attract only the largest, wiliest bass in the world. And for those, they turn to men like Mickey Ellis.

Mickey says he became a lure maker because, like the disciples Simon and Andrew, God told him to do so. He even named his business the 3:16 Lure Company after the New Testament verse in the Gospel according to John, which you sometimes see on signs held up by spectators at televised sporting events. Mickey can reel off the verse on cue: "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life."

[NEXT "Story Continued..."] The workshop is housed in a garage set among a cluster of low-slung white buildings in an industrial park near Mission Viejo, an hour and change north of San Diego. It's crammed with the tools of his trade: sanders, carving tools, resins, and paint. A man named Pastor Chuck preaches on the Christian radio station piped through a pair of overhead speakers. Hundreds of clear-plastic bags and boxes of lures litter the floor of the office, where Mickey sits behind a metal desk. He is 35 years old and about 5 feet 11 inches tall with big shoulders and a broad chest. His hands are meaty and dirty and flecked with little red scars, and he's missing a fingertip on his left one. There's scruffy brown stubble on his cheeks, and his intense blue eyes are bloodshot.

Mickey is admiring his latest creation, which he just listed for sale on eBay this morning. It's a swimbait, but it's different than anything the world has ever seen. This is Mickey's first foray into hard-shelled lures after a few years of working with soft plastics. It weighs three-quarters of a pound and is almost 11 inches long. There are two metal door hinges in the body of the lure and a hard plastic tail, which also flexes on a hinge. The lure is painstakingly hand-painted down to the tiniest of tails, each one slightly different from the next, like snowflakes. A vivid pink stripe marks its sides just like a rainbow trout, and it has little dots on its flanks and a brown back. The glued-on eyes look wet and animate. It even has nostrils. The pectoral, dorsal, and anal fins are all perfectly shaped, and a glass rattle inside draws the attention of the bass as the angler reels it in. The lure looks like a piece of art, like something you might pick up at a flea market. But it's meant to be fished, and fished hard. The two treble hooks attached to the base of the lure are menacing, hooks usually used for tarpon, which can grow to 200 pounds.

Mickey calls it the Armageddon, after the biblical story. "In Revelations, all earthly kings gather to make war against God, the final war," he says, holding up the lure. "This is actually a weapon of war. This is a wrecking ball. They hit this thing and they're done, dude." His soft-plastic swimbaits sell for between $12 and $35 a pop-very expensive for lures. The Armageddon is priced at $316. "I stirred up a ruckus from day one with this lure," he says. "But it's worth it. This thing swims and looks exactly-spot on-like a trout. I caught four fish on it my first time out. This is a phenomenon. It's handmade, dude. It's not made in China; it's made right here in southern California."

Mickey is the sort of Christian that makes a pastor's job tough but worthwhile; he's the member of the flock who strayed far but seems to be slowly, warily circling back. A reclamation project. By every measure, he had a very rough childhood. When he was 3, his father was killed by a drunk driver. His mother never fully recovered and went into a spiral of drug and alcohol abuse. She remarried to an uptight Marine who didn't like Mickey. "Then it was my mom and the Marine against me, and I rebelled since I was 6," he says. He did his first stint in juvenile detention at age 11. His stepfather believed in being a man, in providing for one's self, and he made Mickey get his first job, at a doughnut shop, when he was 16. But he was soon cutting high school, and like so many men, he turned to fishing as a means of solace for a tumultuous soul. But even that couldn't save him.

[NEXT "Story Continued..."] "You don't know angry. I was so angry you could see red fire," he says, his eyes growing animated. "And that still pops up. Sometimes I get caught off guard. If there's one thing I'm really good at, it's just knocking people out. I've never had a fight that's lasted more than two or three punches. And I don't like fighting, dude. Don't like anything about it."

When he was 18, his anger finally got the best of him, and he was sentenced to four years in jail. He went in for drug charges and assault and battery. He was paroled when he was 21 but says politics, not good behavior, got him out early. His time in jail changed him, but not for the better. "You don't want to be a white boy in the pen, let me tell you," he says. "Jail has its own set of rules, apart from regular society. You're either a bitch or a man." Mickey decided to be the latter. He went in a skinny 180 pounds: When he left, he was 245 pounds and had 18-inch biceps.

After jail he worked a dozen different jobs, mostly in the construction business, learning new trades. He went to welding school and then got hired as a prototype fabricator in the booming southern California semiconductor business. The job taught him that there was nothing in the world he couldn't make, but he eventually got bored with that. To stave off the boredom, he started racing motorbikes. He crashed a lot, and with no money, he was forced to fix his own bikes. Eventually he opened a collision repair shop, which led to a job custom-painting Harleys. He kept working out and had "hair down to my butt," he says. In his late 20s, he hit rock bottom. "I deserved to die. I deserved to be lit up. Without a doubt, I've done more bad things than you can imagine." When asked if he's ever killed a man, he pauses for a moment: "No, no," he says. "But picture it like this: Take a very big guy and piss him off as bad as you can and then let him out in society."

He was living with his girlfriend, Kristy, at the time. She got tired of his motorbikes and dicey friends and kicked him out of the house, but before he left she handed him a Bible with his name monogrammed on the back. Mickey put it on the back of the toilet seat in his apartment and went back to his bikes. He was as lost as ever, in what he calls "a black abyss."

But one day, in a drunken fury, he picked up the Bible and decided to read it from cover to cover. "Six months later, I shut the thing and said, with fire on my breath, Â¿Â¿Â¿There's no way that it isn't true.' Man can't think like that, dude. I read it as a very angry person, then gave my life to Christ."

[NEXT "Story Continued..."] For a week straight, he went soul-searching, fishing on Lake Mission Viejo, asking God what he should do with his life, knowing that he had the guts to do anything the Lord asked of him. It hit him one evening on the water. "I honestly believe He asked me to make lures," he says. "I was like, Â¿Â¿Â¿What?' I had never made a lure in my life."

Mickey started to attend Saddleback Church, a Southern Baptist church in Lake Forest run by Pastor Rick Warren, who is famous for his book The Purpose-Driven Life. He went to premarital counseling with Kristy and eventually married her, and together they had a son. And he started making plastic swimbaits with a vengeance in the kitchen sink of their one-bedroom condo.

A few months later Mickey took 500 Mission Fish swimbaits to the Fred Hall Fishing Tackle and Boat Show and sold them all for $20 a pop. He quit his day job. "I thought I was going to be a millionaire," he says. But soon he was broke again and had to take another welding job just to get by. Fishermen, it seemed, weren't comfortable springing that much money for a lure they knew very little about. He hit another stumbling block when Kristy divorced him against his will.

Still, he decided to push on with the 3:16 Lure Company. "It was a calling. I was supposed to make a difference," he says. "That's where God comes in. You take all that nasty, vile stuff and turn that effort in a different direction, and you have just unleashed one dedicated, serious animal." Everything Mickey created was handmade. He would take a block of wood intended to serve as the mold for a new lure, write 3:16 on it, and let it sit until it drove him so crazy that he would begin to carve it. "I could see it in my head," he says. "I believe that's part of what God's doing through me. God has a piece of it. I'm not a genius." He rented his current space in the industrial park and worked from dawn until after dark, sometimore bad things than you can imagine." When asked if he's ever killed a man, he pauses for a moment: "No, no," he says. "But picture it like this: Take a very big guy and piss him off as bad as you can and then let him out in society."

He was living with his girlfriend, Kristy, at the time. She got tired of his motorbikes and dicey friends and kicked him out of the house, but before he left she handed him a Bible with his name monogrammed on the back. Mickey put it on the back of the toilet seat in his apartment and went back to his bikes. He was as lost as ever, in what he calls "a black abyss."

But one day, in a drunken fury, he picked up the Bible and decided to read it from cover to cover. "Six months later, I shut the thing and said, with fire on my breath, Â¿Â¿Â¿There's no way that it isn't true.' Man can't think like that, dude. I read it as a very angry person, then gave my life to Christ."

[NEXT "Story Continued..."] For a week straight, he went soul-searching, fishing on Lake Mission Viejo, asking God what he should do with his life, knowing that he had the guts to do anything the Lord asked of him. It hit him one evening on the water. "I honestly believe He asked me to make lures," he says. "I was like, Â¿Â¿Â¿What?' I had never made a lure in my life."

Mickey started to attend Saddleback Church, a Southern Baptist church in Lake Forest run by Pastor Rick Warren, who is famous for his book The Purpose-Driven Life. He went to premarital counseling with Kristy and eventually married her, and together they had a son. And he started making plastic swimbaits with a vengeance in the kitchen sink of their one-bedroom condo.

A few months later Mickey took 500 Mission Fish swimbaits to the Fred Hall Fishing Tackle and Boat Show and sold them all for $20 a pop. He quit his day job. "I thought I was going to be a millionaire," he says. But soon he was broke again and had to take another welding job just to get by. Fishermen, it seemed, weren't comfortable springing that much money for a lure they knew very little about. He hit another stumbling block when Kristy divorced him against his will.

Still, he decided to push on with the 3:16 Lure Company. "It was a calling. I was supposed to make a difference," he says. "That's where God comes in. You take all that nasty, vile stuff and turn that effort in a different direction, and you have just unleashed one dedicated, serious animal." Everything Mickey created was handmade. He would take a block of wood intended to serve as the mold for a new lure, write 3:16 on it, and let it sit until it drove him so crazy that he would begin to carve it. "I could see it in my head," he says. "I believe that's part of what God's doing through me. God has a piece of it. I'm not a genius." He rented his current space in the industrial park and worked from dawn until after dark, sometim

Davis Love III Talks about Why He Loves Fishing

fieldandstream-editor — Tue, 31 Aug 2004 20:00:00 -0400

Davis Love III is among the most accomplished golfers of his generation. He has 18 career PGA Tour victories, including a major (the 1997 PGA Championship), and has been a member of five U.S. Ryder Cup teams. Just last year, he won five tournaments and $6 million in prize money.

Crash Course

fieldandstream-editor — Tue, 24 Aug 2004 12:05:00 -0400

I'm an ATV statistic.

Hearing a shot on the far side of our property late one night a few years ago, I jumped on an ATV and raced toward the sound. It was days before deer season, and because the shot might have been from a poacher, I wanted to get out there as soon as possible. In my haste I didn't bother to put on a helmet, and I kept the lights off so as not to give away my position. Halfway there, my right front wheel ran into a stump.

One of the biggest ATVs on the market turned end over end, tossing me into the air. I did a complete flip and landed flat on my back. When I came to, I knew I was hurt. I crawled to the ATV, which luckily had landed upright and was relatively undamaged. The 2-mile ride back to the house was extremely painful. I recovered, but I had to spend about four months sleeping in a chair due to a separated shoulder and fractured, loosened ribs.

ATVs are rapidly growing in popularity, with an increasing number sold every year. They've also become bigger and more powerful-several models now have engine displacement up to 700cc-and capable of extremely high speeds. As a result, ATV accidents have also increased greatly. According to figures from the Consumer Product Safety Commission, there were 113,900 emergency room visits related to ATV use in the United States in 2002, an increase of nearly 68 percent from 1987 when there were 67,800 accidents. In the 20-year period from 1982 to 2002, the CPSC had reports of 5,239 ATV-related deaths.

Although better driver education in the past few years has resulted in a lower overall accident rate, drivers are still getting injured or killed. Most accidents are caused by the following factors, all of which are preventable.

1. Underage riders
Of all children in ATV accidents, 95 percent were riding adult-size vehicles. Children younger than 16 do not have the strength, size, motor skills, or coordination to drive the larger vehicles.

2. Riding double on vehicles rated for one person
Most ATVs are not designed for dual riders. Riding double on a single-use machine changes its balance and reduces driver control.

3. Not wearing safety equipment
Almost 80 percent of ATV accident patients treated at St. John's Emergency Trauma Center in Springfield, Missouri, were not wearing helmets at the time of the accident; almost half of those sustained head injuries. A recent study by St. John's showed that helmets could reduce the risk of fatal head injuries by 42 percent and of nonfatal head injuries by 64 percent. Over-the-ankle leather boots, long-sleeve shirts, and gloves should also be worn.

4. Riding too fast or carelessly
As I learned, this can cause an ATV to tip or flip over, throwing you off of the vehicle or pinning you underneath it. Riders who put their feet to the outside of the footboards, in the mistaken belief that doing so will improve balance, could get a foot caught on an obstruction or even between the footboard and the rear tire. Driving with one hand is another mistake. If you hit an obstacle, the handlebars can easily snap away, causing you to lose control.

5. Riding on hard surfaces
ATV tires and handling characteristics are designed for offroad travel. Tires can catch on hard surfaces, causing the ATV to flip over.

Remember that no amount of ATV riding experience is a substitute for safe driving. My negligence caused a serious accident, and it could have been worse. That's what I think about every time I strap on a helmet.

My Favorite Spot: Brokaw's Yellowstone

fieldandstream-editor — Wed, 12 May 2004 11:05:00 -0400

After the 2004 presidential election, Tom Brokaw will retire from NBC's Nightly News, turning the final chapter on one of the most distinguished careers in broadcast journalism. So what does he plan to do with all his free time? "I'm going to disappear into the wild for a while," he says. It will be a natural transition. Brokaw, who grew up in South Dakota, is a lifelong outdoorsman. He trains his Labrador retrievers every morning in Central Park and hunts birds in upstate New York. But he's most passionate about fishing, a sport he has chased all over the globe, from Labrador to Russia. His favorite spot, however, is a historic river not too far from his ranch in Montana: the Yellowstone. Here is his guide.

Why It's Great
"First of all, the fishing is almost always excellent. I've never made it out for the Mother's Day caddis hatch, but I've received maddening e-mails about it. I generally fish in July and August, using a big attractor that the fish can see and occasionally going deep with streamers and nymphs. The other thing is that you're just 10 minutes off the interstate, and you can absolutely disappear. You'll see moose, eagles, and egrets, and a lot of it is unfenced so you have this real sense of 19th-century Montana on this primal, undammed river. I always think of William Clark going back home on that river, floating down to the Missouri."

Hotspots "I love to float the Livingston to Big Timber stretch. I probably shouldn't be giving this away, but most people float through Paradise Valley to Livingston. Downstream, there are fewer boats. You can stop and have lunch on a sandbar and it will be just you and the willows."

Favorite Guides
"I fish with Steve Pauli in Big Timber [BRACKET "Sweet Cast Anglers, 406-932-4469"] and George Anderson at Yellowstone Angler [BRACKET "406-222-7130"]. Both guys really know the river. George even lets me row the boat, something I did as a kid on the Missouri. Holding the boat at a 45-degree angle to the bank, drifting along, and getting the angler a shot at everything is a tricky business. There's a picture of me rowing, with George in the bow and Howell Raines in the stern. I blew it up and sent it to George and wrote: Â¿Â¿Â¿Dear Mr. Anderson: I always heard you were a wonderful guide and I really loved our day together. But do you think next year there's a chance I can do some fishing?' He loved it."

Anglers' Hangouts
"A stop at the Fort in Big Timber is a must [BRACKET "406-932-5992"]. It's one of those combination gas stations and sporting goods stores. It has everything. And the Chatham's Livingston Bar & Grille [BRACKET "406-222-7909"] in Livingston is a fine place for dinner and a drink."

Tom Brokaw Talks About His Favorite River, the Yellowstone

fieldandstream-editor — Fri, 30 Apr 2004 20:00:00 -0400

After the 2004 presidential election, Tom Brokaw will retire from NBC's Nightly News, turning the final chapter on one of the most distinguished careers in broadcast journalism. So what does he plan to do with all his free time? "I'm going to disappear into the wild for a while," he says. It will be a natural transition. Brokaw, who grew up in South Dakota, is a lifelong outdoorsman. He trains his Labrador retrievers every morning in Central Park and hunts birds in upstate New York. But he's most passionate about fishing, a sport he has chased all over the globe, from Labrador to Russia.

Stripahs in the City

fieldandstream-editor — Wed, 28 Apr 2004 06:40:00 -0400

When Jack Gartside thinks of fishing in Boston Harbor as a child, two memories stand out. In 1956 he was walking along the beach when he came upon a floating body. "It had been in the water for a very long time, if you know what I mean," he says. It turned out that the person had been a passenger on the ill-fated Andrea Doria, which had sunk earlier that year off Nantucket. Then there were the hours he spent fishing near what locals called the Bubble, which was the business end of a pipe that discharged Boston's raw sewage. With a good tide, the Bubble would produce a 200-yard-long slick of brown sludge. "I didn't care that I had to pick turds or bits of toilet paper off my line. There was actually quite a bit of life there, you know."

But things have changed, for the better. The harbor that the first President Bush once called "the dirtiest in the country" has become perhaps the best urban fishery in America, a baitfish-rich stopover on the east coast migration route for thousands of ravenous striped bass and bluefish. And Boston Harbor is not alone. All around the country, the once polluted waters that surround our nation's great cities have undergone remarkable recoveries spurred by the far-sighted Clean Water Act of 1972. It's not a stretch to say that, in modern times, urban fishing in the United States has never been better. But here's a little secret: Despite being accessible to literally millions of people, most of these waters remain relatively underfished.

It's a situation that perplexes men like Gartside, the undisputed "Dean of the Boston Harbor," who is a notable flytier and raconteur, among other things. "In my high school yearbook, other people listed doctor or lawyer in the space provided for their future job," Gartside says. "I put fishing."

For him, that's meant spending every May through November working the almost 200 miles of coastline in the harbor, which hosts healthy populations of stripers and blues. There's good fishing downtown near the Fleet Center, home of the Celtics and Bruins. You can cast a line in Charlestown with the Bunker Hill Monument peering over your shoulder. Or you can walk down to State Street near the New England Aquarium and fish off the walls where stripers lurk by the hundreds.

But for Gartside, the best fishing is on the 34 islands that dot the harbor. Wading the skinny water there offers shots at fish that are inaccessible to boats. For an $8 round-trip ticket, he takes the 20-minute shuttle from the city to George's Island, the site of an old Civil War fort. From there, he hops on a free water taxi that drops him off on any of the smaller, undeveloped islands, some of which allow free camping (Boston Harbor Islands National Recreation Area, 617-223-8666; nps.gov/boha). He fishes the in- and outgoing tides for stripers up to 30 pounds, using his various creations, like the famous topwater Gurgler. At 6 p.m., he's on the last shuttle back to the city.

To be sure, the municipal environment still provides some strange moments. Gartside was once fishing near the Fleet Center when a bunch of teenagers started throwing cups of beer at him from the bridge. "I made an easy target," he says. On one of his favorite spots, Nix's Mate, a small island near the harbor's entrance, pirates were once shackled as a warning to other sea dogs. "If you have an active imagination," says Gartside, "you can still hear the chains of Capt. William Fly rattling in the wind."

But to him, it's all part of fishing urban waters, where nature and commerce often go hand in hand. "The harbor feels like such a solitary place. Then the QE2 will come so close that I can bounce a fly off the bow."

Contact Jack Gartside, 617-846-5984; jackgartside.com.

More Fishy Cities
In these 4 places, you don't have to leave town to find terrific water.

1. Washington, D.C. (bass)
T Potomac River is one of the most underrated fisheries in the country. In the upper limits of our nation's capital, you can park along the C&O canal and wade or canoe the shallows of the Potomac from June to October. You'll find good sport with the 10- to 15-inch smallmouth bass hidden behind every rock near the Beltway Bridge. Downstream, the river becomes tidal, which means you'll encounter perch, herring, American and hickory shad, and striped bass. You can fish from shore in the Chain Bridge area, where the water violently rips through the gorge. Or rent a rowboat from Fletcher's Boat House (202-244-0461) for $20, anchor up, and catch stripers all day long.

Near Georgetown, where the marshland was filled in the 1700s, you'll find the occasional striper lurking around structure, but from Key Bridge on down, largemouth bass predominate. Two Bassmasters tournaments have been held in this part of the river, and the first President Bush was known to make a cast here while in office. An added bonus is the Constitution Gardens Pool on the Mall near the Vietnam Memorial, where you'll find bass, sunfish, and catfish. Just watch for tourists on your back cast. Contact the Angler's Lie, 703-527-2524; anglerslie.com.

2. Atlanta (trout)
Trout fishing is usually not the first thing that comes to mind when you think of Atlanta, but maybe it should be. Thanks to a bottom release from the Buford Dam on Lake Lanier, some 45 miles of ice-cold Chattahoochee River runs from northern Georgia through "Hotlanta." The Hooch, as it's known to locals, just might be the best trout water in the Deep South. The river wends it way through leafy woodlands, beneath the shadows of office parks, and under interstates, and has up to 5,000 rainbows and browns per mile.

Wading is an option, but a drift boat is a better bet for covering the water and taking in the scenery, like the prehistoric fishing weirs that were first built by the native Cherokee and Creek Indians. Spring is one of the best times to be on the river, when caddisflies blanket the water, and the blooming azaleas and dogwoods on the banks rival that of the famous golf course in Augusta. Guide Ken Louko says that good fishing is available all year long. One of his favorite spots is the pool below the bridge of I-75, where fat rainbows sip bluewing olives as commuters zip by on the highway above. Contact Spring Creek Anglers, 404-664-4823; springcreekanglers.com.

3. Detroit (walleyes)
Guide Jim Barta will never forget the morning he guided an executive from GM on the Detroit River. He anchored his boat on his favorite spot, a reef that fronts the Renaissance Center, Detroit's paean to modernism. Ten minutes later the client landed a 10-pound walleye, then phoned up to his office in one of the buildings and proudly displayed his catch for his coworkers. "It was like the guy had signed a big contract or something," says Barta, a retired fireman who has fished the river for 45 years.

In the 1960s, the Detroit River could be bright blue one day, green the next, and orange the day after, depending upon which effluent the steel mills and chemical plants upstream were discharging. Rescued by the Clean Water Act, the river now boasts a run of nearly 10 million walleyes each spring. And fishing isn't the only entertainment. Barta enjoys watching the joggers and inline skaters on the lively waterfront and catching the smell of hot dogs in the air. And he really likes the front-row seat he has to outdoor concerts at the Civic Center-imagine jigging for tasty walleyes while listening to Aretha Franklin belt out "R-E-S-P-E-C-T." Contact Capt. Jim Barta, 313-388-5847; truefishing.com.

4. New Orleans (redfish )
Just on the outskirts of the Mardi Gras Mecca lies an endless jumble of ponds, canals, and marshes known as Myrtle Grove, a place where "you feel like you're in the middle of nowhere, save for the oil refineries on the horizon," says Hilary Thompson, a Louisiana State University medical school statistician and obsessed angler. In places with some freshwater inflow, there are schools of good-size largemouth bass. But the king catch of New Orleans is the redfish. Hidden among the marshes, you can spend the day sight-fishing the clear water and have shots at dozens of hard-fighting reds a day, all in the 6- to 8-pound range.

In the 1980s, famed chef Paul Prudhomme made the blackened redfish a staple of his menu. Some say this simple, delicious recipe incited a craze that sent the fish spiraling toward extinction, setting off what was known locally as the redfish wars between commercial and sport fishermen. But cooler heads prevailed, and commercial net bans and catch restrictions were put in place. The redfish is back now, with a vengeance, which means you shouldn't be bashful about stopping by CafÂ¿Â¿ Degas (504-945-5635), where chef Stephen Hassinger serves up a mean redfish meuniÂ¿Â¿re. Contact Uptown Angler, 800-974-8473; uptownangler.com. ve for the oil refineries on the horizon," says Hilary Thompson, a Louisiana State University medical school statistician and obsessed angler. In places with some freshwater inflow, there are schools of good-size largemouth bass. But the king catch of New Orleans is the redfish. Hidden among the marshes, you can spend the day sight-fishing the clear water and have shots at dozens of hard-fighting reds a day, all in the 6- to 8-pound range.

In the 1980s, famed chef Paul Prudhomme made the blackened redfish a staple of his menu. Some say this simple, delicious recipe incited a craze that sent the fish spiraling toward extinction, setting off what was known locally as the redfish wars between commercial and sport fishermen. But cooler heads prevailed, and commercial net bans and catch restrictions were put in place. The redfish is back now, with a vengeance, which means you shouldn't be bashful about stopping by CafÂ¿Â¿ Degas (504-945-5635), where chef Stephen Hassinger serves up a mean redfish meuniÂ¿Â¿re. Contact Uptown Angler, 800-974-8473; uptownangler.com.

The One-Man Duckboat

fieldandstream-editor — Sat, 03 Apr 2004 04:05:00 -0500

Small-water duck hunters need a boat that they can paddle quietly into swamps and sloughs, yet one that has enough room for decoys, gear, gun, and dog. This boat is perfect for the job. It comes out to approximately 16 feet in length and weighs about 100 pounds. Building it isn't very difficult, and it should take about 20 working hours. Although you should follow the general measurements, much of the construction is fit-and-cut, then fit-and-glue. Total cost for materials is about $200.

1. Joining the Hull
Sides First rip the four side pieces 8 feet long; cut the bow and stern ends at a 35-degree angle from bottom to top. With a radial arm saw, make the mid-cut for the 75-degree scarf joints (overlapping, beveled edges). Coat the scarf-joint edges with an even strip of five-minute epoxy, clamp them in place, and let dry to create the two 16-foot-long hull sides.

Next, cut the bow and stern end blocks from a 2x4, using a table saw with the blade set at an 80-degree angle. The triangular end blocks should be 1/4 inch across the top and 11/2 inches across the bottom. Join the hull sides at the bow: First coat an end block with epoxy where the inner surface of the hull will make contact. Clamp the sides together so that they pinch the end block in place. Once the bow has set, bring the stern ends to meet in the same way with the other end block. You can add countersunk brass screws for strength after the epoxy is dry.

2. Bracing the Hull
The three braces form the internal framework of the boat. They are different sizes (see diagram), but you construct and insert them in the same manner.

Cut the ends of the bottom brace at a 98-degree angle, and epoxy and screw on the two side braces to create each U-shaped assembly. Set the center brace at the hull's midpoint seam. Set the forward brace roughly 55 inches back from the bow, and the aft brace roughly 38 inches forward of the stern. To secure the hull, screw a temporary wood stretcher where each brace goes, across the tops of the hull sides. Epoxy and screw the braces flush to the sides, making sure that the bottoms of the braces are even with the bottom edges of the hull sides, and the tops of the side braces even with the top edges of the hull (see cross section).

3. Completing the Hull
When the braces are set, turn the boat upside down and lay two 4x8-size pieces of plywood over it. Draw the contours for the hull bottom, and cut them to shape with a jigsaw. Join the two pieces with a 75-degree scarf joint and epoxy.

Glue the hull bottom to the bottom edges of the hull sides and the braces. Rip the gunnels 16 feet long and epoxy them in place, flush with the top edge of the hull. Fasten these with screws from the inside of the hull.

4. Creating the Decks
This boat has hinged rear and front decks, and a center deck just fore of the seat section. (Check for leaks before you begin this stage by floating the boat. Patch any problem spots with fiberglass tape or cloth and resin.)

Remove the stretchers from the hull sides. Then cut the fore and aft top braces and epoxy them to the fore and aft brace assemblies, making them flush with the top of the hull (see cross section).

Both the fore and rear decks, which should end at the midline of the brace tops, are installed in the same way: Mark the contours on a plywood sheet and cut to fit. On the front deck, epoxy the hinge strips on either side of the seam created by the front deck and center deck lid (see below), then attach the two 2-inch brass butt hinges. For the rear deck, epoxy a decking strip to the exposed brace surface (to create an even plane for the hinge strips). Epoxy the hinge strips in place, and then attach the hinges. Screw in the deck lids.

The center deck lid is designed to give your dog a place to sit. Trace the dimensions of this section on plywood and then cut it.. Next, make as large a hole as your dog will need to jump in and out, but allow him enough coverage to duck out of the wind. Cut the center top brace and epoxy it to the center brace assembly. Anchor the deck lid with epoxy and screws to the tops of the hull sides and braces so that its back edge is flush with the center line of the brace top.

5. Finishing and Painting
Cut the two 4-inch nose blocks from a 2x4; these are shaped just like the end blocks. Glue them into place on the stern and bow points, then install a screw eye in each point a few inches below the top edge. Loop a piece of tough but stretchy rubber tubing through each eye, leaving it long enough to pull up and around the back of the nose block to secure the deck.

For a seat, a simple plywood plank screwed into the aft top brace and boat seat pads can work fine. Or build a more secure seat frame with wood, and install padding. A pop-up kayak seat can also work.

All joints should be strengthened and sealed with fiberglass tape. Applying a coat of epoxy paint or fiberglass cloth and resin will provide further protection and waterproofing. Then add a camouflage pattern. You can do so with stencils, or simply make your own design with nonglare paint-just be sure to make it dull so that it breaks up the boat's outline and blends in with mud and vegetation.

Boat Seat

Front End of the Boat

Dog Area

Back of the Boat

Diagram