The Ignorant Traveler   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Boating in Connecticut

August 23, 2001 -- All aboard the Tish Time II for the second expedition to catch the elusive fish, and prove that Connecticut's side of the Long Island Sound has not been fished out. John S joined this year, to lend fresh-water luring expertise gleaned from the Pennsylvania mountains.

John L, gracious host as usual, provided a smorgasbord of eats for the trip, beverages mostly of the alcoholic kind, fishing poles and bait, and the all-important boat. The Tish Time II is a splendid, fast, craft, named in honor of John's dad. It has a cabin, radar, and bathroom on board. 


Messrs Jeff (left) and John S mug for the camera. 

[Click to enlarge thumbnails]


Messrs Jeff and John S 

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After a preparatory lunch, the four sailors launched off the coast of Branford Harbor, Connecticut in pursuit of the fish. All took turns steering the boat (except I think, Jeff), as John L provided expert tutelage on how to navigate the boat, even though this had admittedly been only his second time out all year.


Lou V tries his hand at captaining boat, and attempts to figure out difference between red and green buoys. 

Lou V took first crack at the wheel, and using the experience he gained from the first time out a year earlier, was able to navigate the boat on the correct side of all of the red and green buoys, out to sea. 

The strategy was to vulture up to the first fishing boat encountered, figuring that they must know what they were doing, and cut the engines. Fishing poles and bait were broken out, and the attempt to catch a fish began in earnest. 

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Couple of points on fishing in Connecticut -- first, if you're four guys on a boat, drinking a lot of beer, and listening to loud music on the radio, expect the guys in the boat near you to soon leave. Our four sailors chose to interpret this as the fact that the other fishermen had gotten fed up not catching any fish. They were determined to 'fish through'. 

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Second point is that when you've got your fishin' pole over the side, and the captain of the boat decides to move the vessel to another location, make sure your line doesn't get near the back of the boat, where it can get tangled in the boat's propellers. More often than not, when this happens, it is virtually impossible to get your hook back. 

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After fishing, and drinking a lot of beer, for about an hour or two, with nary a bite, and losing both lines numerous times to the boat's propellers, the comrades gave up their fight, and journeyed to a local harborside restaurant/bar, to reminisce about old times -- many of which date back to elementary school, where the four met -- and life in general. 


John L uses hands to describe life in Connecticut, at harborside restaurant.

Good thing too, because it started raining.

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With luck still on their side, the rain ended by the time it was time to head back to sea. Cigars, drinks, and a salute to lost loved ones was the order of the hour on the way back, and then they motored back to harbor before the coast guard could figure out who the heck set off that flare. 

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All in all, a great day, and further proof that there are no fish in Connecticut. 

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-- LouV