Mike Toth

The Woodcock of Broadway: Part II

Joe_Cermele — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 09:57:23 -0500

A guest post by Field & Stream Executive Editor Mike Toth

So let's pick up where I left this story yesterday....

The woodcock is a creature of habit. Anyone who has hunted them for a while knows that you can find woodcock in many of the same places, autumn after autumn. One fall, hunting the bottom of a ridge in northeastern Pennsylvania, I kicked up a woodie from a depression in the ground not much bigger than a utility sink. I missed the easy going-away shot. The next year, hunting the same bottom, another bird (maybe the same one; who knows?) flushed from the very same hole. Having had approximately 364 days to prepare for the shot, I managed to drop that bird.

Woodcock, apparently, are also slow to adapt to changes--changes such as a teeming city being built in the middle of an historic flyway. That’s apparently why, a year ago this week, I found a dead woodcock near the corner of Broadway and 31st Street in New York City--just a few blocks from the Empire State Building, and a ten-minute stroll to where one million cold and not exactly sober people celebrate the New Year every December 31st by hooting and cheering as a glass ball descends a spire in Times Square at midnight. If you missed Part I of the story, click here.

The Woodcock of Broadway: A Christmas Story (Sort of)

Joe_Cermele — Tue, 22 Dec 2009 10:05:46 -0500

A guest post by Field & Stream Executive Editor Mike Toth

You see plenty of small brown objects on the sidewalks of New York City. Most of them don’t deserve more than a glance as you step widely around it on your way to school, museum, theatre, crackhouse, or restaurant. But this one, which I came upon exactly one year ago today as I was walking to work, was different. The breeze blowing in from the Hudson River and keening through the gray canyons of Manhattan were ruffling the feathers of the little woodcock, which was laying, dead, between a mailbox and a food cart on 31st Street, a long spit away from its intersection with Broadway.

On Squirrel Collaboration and Wasted Meat

Online Editors — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 10:18:46 -0500

A guest post from Executive Editor Mike Toth.

Most of us well know the inverse relationship between hunters collaborating on a squirrel and the squirrel itself. That is, the more the hunters collaborate, the less squirrel there is when the shooting is over. This rule was made abundantly clear earlier this week when Senior Editor Colin Kearns and I went after bushytails on a Wildlife Management Area in central New Jersey.

Jersey is a shotgun-only state (with exceptions for muzzleloader), and my favorite squirrel load is ...

The Mid-Life Slam

Joe_Cermele — Tue, 03 Feb 2009 15:36:29 -0500

Six miles from land in 8- to 10-foot swells is usually no place to have an argument
over a 4-inch fish. But here we are, seven experienced fishermen, heatedly discussing the identity of a little brown-barred creature as the charter boat heaves and yaws, knocking everyone off balance.

“Might be some kind of grunt,” says mate K.J. Zeher, grabbing a rod rack to keep steady.

“I don’t know.” Photographer Ron Modra takes four quick steps sideways as the boat rocks. “Looks like a young grouper.”

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fieldandstream-editor — Wed, 13 Feb 2008 09:39:45 -0500

A big lemon shark circles the boat as Willcox prepares line for a tailrope. Willcox rebaited the hook, and a few minutes later, a monstrous fish-a lemon shark, about 7 feet long, 200 pounds easy-was putting a dangerous bend in the rod, making Joe scramble yet again. Willcox grabbed the leader and tried to temporarily tailrope the fish for photographs, but the lemon was not about to be subdued and it soon parted from the hook. That was just as well, because the three of us were tired, which is no condition to be in when you're dealing with large, toothy sharks. We stowed our rods and Willcox turned the boat south to head back to the marina. "Before I finally moved down to the Keys, I'd been coming down here with my family for 19 years," said Willcox as we sped through the cobalt and turquoise waters. "We'd spend all of December here. The worst day of the year was when we had to leave.-Â¿ It was easy to see why. What fisherman wants to leave paradise? TIP: Even if you're planning to fish solely with a guide who provides all tackle, you'll probably regret not having a rod and reel at hand. There's just too much good fishing available down here to risk traveling rodless. Go ahead and invest in a pack rod. Look at Cabela's Fish Eagle (cabelas.com) and Albright (albrighttackle.com) travel rods. You'll find a variety of models suitable for the Keys.

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fieldandstream-editor — Wed, 13 Feb 2008 09:39:45 -0500

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fieldandstream-editor — Wed, 13 Feb 2008 09:39:45 -0500

Captain Jim Willcox throws a castnet for baitfish in Florida Bay. "We'll need some bait,-Â¿ said Willcox, and he slowed down in an area that to my Northeast eye looked like any other part of the expanse of blue around us. Willcox dropped a bag of chum over the side, told Joe to shake it, and started draping sections of a 10-foot-diameter castnet over his shoulder. After four throws we had about six dozen 2- to 4-inch pilchards and pinfish in the baitwell. "These work well, especially the pinfish,-Â¿ said Willcox, as we scrabbled around the deck, grabbing the bait that flipped out of the net. "Ow!-Â¿ said Joe, wincing as one of the sharp-dorsal-finned baitfish snapped out of his palm. "That's why they're called pinfish,-Â¿ said Willcox. "OK, this is fun, but we have enough bait. Let's go.-Â¿ TIP: Live shrimp are the default bait for most Keys shore species--snappers, grunts, bonefish, even "baby-Â¿ tarpon, which means a fish weighing up to 20 pounds or so. Don't take up valuable luggage space by packing a bait bucket; buy an inexpensive one at any tackle shop and give it to a fellow fishermen before you go home.

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fieldandstream-editor — Wed, 13 Feb 2008 09:39:45 -0500

Joe Toth and Willcox get a handful of Toth's first tarpon. We ran another mile or so and entered the mouth of a slow-moving river bordered on both sides by mangrove roots and seemingly unending scrub. The tide was going out. We heard the smacks of jumping fish as soon as Willcox slowed the motor. "Oh, this is good,-Â¿ said the guide, anchoring from the bow and getting out a couple of medium-weight spinning rods rigged with hook and cork bobber. He handed one to me, then baited and cast another. "Rig it up with a pilchard, put it as close to the roots as possible, and let it drift,-Â¿ he said. "I'm going to drop one downcurrent with no bobber and get one out on the other side. Fish everywhere here. Oh, this is good. Here we go!-Â¿ The back rod dipped and Willcox grabbed it and handed it to Joe. "He's on!-Â¿ Joe started reeling, pausing when the fish took line. I took my bait in, quick-stepped back onto the stern, and started looking for a net. Joe and Willcox were struggling to get the third outfit out of the way. A rod dropped in the water and Willcox clawed down and got it before it sank. Joe's drag started peeling again. Then the fish jumped--a tarpon, about 10 pounds. I hooted, Joe pleaded with the fish to stay on, and Willcox was giving urgent instructions and encouragement: "Tight line! Good! No slack! Bow when he jumps! That's it! OK, bring him over!-Â¿ We'd been anchored all of ten minutes, and already it was turning into the kind of day I'd been hoping for. TIP: A 15-pound-test spinning outfit will cover most of your needs from shore. If you think you'll fish a bonefish flat, drop down to 12-pound test. If you're going to be casting to tarpon at night, go up to 20.

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fieldandstream-editor — Wed, 13 Feb 2008 09:39:45 -0500

Joe Toth's beautiful Florida Bay backcounty snook, caught on a live pinfish. Joe got that tarpon, his first. We put it back and I shook his hand. "So what do you think? Fun?-Â¿ "Awesome!-Â¿ he said, using the word appropriately for once. "Now you get one.-Â¿ A good plan, but it wasn't my turn. Not yet, anyway. Joe's rod went down again, and time it was a nice snook. The fish raced back and forth in the river and we did our three-man dance on the flats boat, switching rods, cranking in line, trading spots, lunging for the net. The snook, about a 20-incher, finally slowed, and Willcox got it in the net. There's a limited season on these fish--it's open from September through April, and only those between 26 and 34 inches are legal--so back in the river it went. We had a few more hits and misses, and two fish that threw the hook. Willcox saw a school of small mullet go by and readied the cast net. "Good bait,-Â¿ he said. "They're worth going after.-Â¿ TIP: Many larger species--tarpon, barracuda, grouper--feed on baitfish, and pinfish are tops. You can cast-net for them from a boat, but that takes time and expertise that you may not have. I baited small hooks with pieces of shrimp to catch the small fish and used them as bait for the bigger species.

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fieldandstream-editor — Wed, 13 Feb 2008 09:39:45 -0500

The author, pleased with his Florida Bay redfish. I put one of the three-inch mullet on my hook and cast out next to the mangroves. The bobber drifted, slowed, then jerked nervously. "Something there,-Â¿ I said, and the bobber disappeared. I reeled in and avoided the urge to set the hook, which was unneccesary with the Gamakatsu Octopus circles that Willcox used. The fish bulled its way toward the bank. "Keep it out of the roots!-Â¿ shouted Jim, not a second too soon. I put some pressure on the fish and got it out into the current, where it kept its head on the bottom. Eventually I got it to the surface-a beautiful bright redfish, "Jim, I said, "we're not looking to fill the cooler. But my whole family's here, and we all eat fish. So if this one's legal, we'll bring it to a restaurant tonight.-Â¿ The fish measured 22 inches--right in the middle of keeper range, which is 18 to 27 inches. "Your dinner fish,-Â¿ said Jim, and he put it in the box. Three different species, and a lot of excitement, and a great-eating fish to bring back. TIP: Many area restaurants will prepare the fish you catch, so it pays to take a cooler filled with ice. We brought our fish to to Lazy Days Restaurant in Islamorada (305-664-5256), just a stone's throw from Bud N' Mary's Fishing Marina. They can prepare your catch in a number of different ways, from blackened to battered. We had the variety platter, and it was superb.