*and 16 smart-assed replies:

1.  When your wife or girlfriend asks, “You aren’t going to fish in the rain are you?”

Well, yes I am, and in the sleet, and in the snow, and in the fog, and any other time the other guys are at home sitting on the couch.

2.  Or when she wonders, “Why do you need another fishing rod, you already have three?”

And that puts me in the lower five percent of all the other fishermen I know who each have at least sixty.

3.  Or how about, “Will you be home by dark?”

No, I’ll fish until dark, and if the fish are biting I’ll keep fishing until they stop or at least until my muscles become so stiff they have to pry my rod out of my cold wet fingers. 

4.  And, I hope you haven’t heard, “My old boyfriend caught one bigger than that.”

I don’t care.  Okay, I do care, but I don’t want to hear about it!  And that reminds me, don’t say:

5.  “Cute little guy.”

Not about a fish, not about anything, not ever! Read More!

I may have found the best fishing spot in the Chesapeake Bay. I discovered it completely by accident a few years ago. I was zig-zagging across some ledges in the Mid-Bay when I saw something on my fish finder that looked like a miniature underwater forest. My first thought was that I was seeing small tree trunks or the remains of fence posts coming up from the bottom. Then I thought maybe I was seeing a shipwreck, but the more I explored the area, the more it became apparent that my sonar was pinging over more natural structure. I was seeing the sonar returns of oysters, and lots of them.

When oysters are left to grow, they form highly complex and irregular reefs. This is a result of the natural reproduction process by which larvae is set onto existing shells. These new shells clump together with older ones, and grow upward toward the surface. When the reefs go unharvested, they grow into mounds or plumes. When they’re left alone for a long time, the mounds can reach the surface of the water and be visible at low tides. In regions where oysters are plentiful, they call these mounds “oyster rocks.” That’s a term you don’t hear too much in Maryland because there aren’t any oyster rocks left.  Read More!

I hang with a lot of fisheries guys. If I had to guess at the backgrounds of the people I’ve fished with most frequently, it would be (in order) coaching baseball, cutting meat, and studying fish. My brother is a fisheries biologist as are many of my friends. I was thrilled recently when a young fisherman who is still in high school reached out to me about his career plans, “I want to be a fish scientist,” he said. “I want to make a difference.” Obviously, I appreciate those guys and the science in which they work.

I looked up the term Fisheries Management and found this:  Fisheries management draws on fisheries science in order to find ways to protect fishery resources.

I like the phrase, “draws on fisheries science.” As a fisherman and a conservationist, I want management decisions based on facts, not politics, pseudoscience, or hearsay. I am a student of the collective knowledge acquired by fishermen. There’s nothing I’d rather hear than the recommendations of a seasoned angler or the sage advice of an experienced waterman. On the other hand, I work in a scientific profession, so I recognize that good science trumps folklore on every occasion. Read More!

When I started dating my wife, I spent a considerable amount of time driving back and forth on Interstate 81 between Knoxville, Tennessee and Washington, DC. If you’ve ever driven that stretch of highway, you know that it can be miserable at times due to heavy traffic.  I didn’t have to sit through very many traffic jams before I figured out some alternate routes. Highway 11, also known as Lee Highway, was the primary north-south artery along the west side of the Blue Ridge Mountains through the Shenandoah Valley long before the interstate was built. I soon realized that, even on the heaviest traffic days, it’s possible to jump off onto 11 and ride for jam-free miles through some of the most scenic country in the region. Before long, I started picking out segments of Lee Highway to drive along even when traffic wasn’t backed up on the interstate.

Since I have family and property in Tennessee, I continue to make that trip often and I still plan these panoramic diversions into my travel. Sometimes my ventures off the main road last only for an exit or two, but on some trips, I’ll drive for miles though the beautiful scenery and quaint communities of the Shenandoah. I look at these Lee Highway detours like they are mini-vacations from the usual hustle and bustle of the main thoroughfare. As a result, I’ve made some interesting discoveries. For example, did you know there is a full-size replica of  Stonehenge made entirely out of styrofoam near Natural Bridge, Virginia, or that you can still get a delicious burger at the restaurant where Hank Williams ate his last meal in Bristol? Read More!

1.  It was still a beautiful day on the water.

2.  That’s why they call it fishing, not catching.

3.  I don’t go to catch fish, I go to relax.

4.  It was a nice day for a boat ride.

5.  I just needed to run the engine.

6.  There was a good band playing at The Jetty, so we came in early.

7.  It’s not how many fish you catch, it’s how good you look fishing.

8.  I just wanted to work on my tan.

9.  I enjoy bird watching as much as catching fish.

10.  I didn’t get skunked, I ran out of time. Read More!