When J.P. Giraud, the American naturalist, published his book “The Birds of Long Island” in 1844, one would be hard pressed to find a single heath hen left on Long Island. Game birds such as the heath hen, Labrador duck, and passenger pigeon disappeared early, along with the wild turkey. The first three became extinct.

The heath hen is a species of prairie chicken that preferred grasslands. It was found in Montauk and elsewhere in Suffolk County, but where it throve until hunted out of existence here was on the Hempstead Plains, 60,000 acres of bona fide prairie land in the center of Nassau County.

In fact, the Hempstead Plains was the largest prairie in New York State well into the late 1800s. Except for 19 remaining acres on the campus of Nassau Community College in east Garden City, the other 59,500-plus acres have been turned into residential and commercial areas along with some airfields, one of which launched the Spirit of St. Louis when it made its historic first flight across the Atlantic Ocean piloted by Charles Lindbergh.

The names of communities such as Floral Park, Hicksville, and East Meadow suggest the flowering and grassland appearance of the plains before they were filled with people, residences, buildings, institutions, and highways. Levittown, constructed after World War II, was one of the last communities to be built on this expanse of treeless flatland. 

In the early part of the new millennium a group of plains-savers got together to conserve those last 19 acres, and notwithstanding the pollution and high-density uses all around them, they have performed spectacularly well. While heath hens are lacking, these 19 acres have several state and federally rare species, including the endangered sandplain gerardia, rediscovered in Montauk in 1982; bushy frostweed, also found in Montauk; silvery aster, bird’s-foot violet, and several typical prairie grasses — tall bluestem, indiangrass, and little bluestem. But it also has rare-to-Long Island birds including the upland sandpiper, grasshopper sparrow, and marsh hawk.

The Friends of the Hempstead Plains started from scratch, but with a piece of land to work with. They removed the invasive vegetation, returned the grown-up tangle to a semblance of historical prairie land, and went on from there.

Coincidental with the restoration of these 19 acres, a group called Greentree Foundation established on the 408-acre Whitney Estate, including the manor house, in Manhasset has been involved in restoration of grasslands in a big way. It held a forum for grassland managers on Oct. 18 in a large conference room in the estate’s main house. At that forum several individuals spoke of their work bringing back healthy grasslands on Long Island.

The longest, and perhaps most impressive, presentation was by Greentree, itself. It included video clips of the kind of work needed to bring back a part of the plains to its original state. It involved carefully burning brushland and weedy growth against the wind, not with it, thus keeping the spread of fire very slow and easily controllable. Many grasses such as purpletop and tall bluestem grew back forcefully and were shortly joined by various prairie flowering plants such as orange milkweed.

Prior to the forum, at which a delicious lunch was served by our Greentree hosts, we were led on walks on paths through two of these new grasslands. One of the highlights of these walks was the flushing of bobwhite quails, a species native to Long Island, which were recently released into the grasslands. One of the guides said that a human could practically walk up to the original bobwhites and pick them up, but all of their offspring were skittish and very wild right off the bat.

This forum made me think of our own grasslands on the South Fork, most of which are rapidly growing up into heathlands or being developed residentially. Shinnecock Hills, west of the old Southampton College campus, comes to mind. When I taught at that school in the 1970s and led field trips through the grasslands, there were lots of unusual prairie-type plants growing there, including Nantucket shad, as well as some unusual birds breeding there, including the large warbler species, the yellow-breasted chat.

Since that time that bit of grassland has been through the development era of the 1980s, followed by two more in the new millennium. There’s not much left to save. The grassland at Conscience Point, which used to be grazed by dairy cows to keep it low and turfy, is also growing up, but, at least it’s not occupied by houses or stores. It is now owned and cared for by the current owner of Robins Island.

Finally, there are the Montauk grasslands, which now are many times larger than the Hempstead Plains remnant in the absence of fire, first introduced by the Montaukett Indians and later continued by the ranch managers. Fire management was reintroduced in the 1990s for a time, but not since. Without fire, which is the number-one benefactor of grasslands, the Montauk ones will undoubtedly grow up into heathy vegetation infiltrated with a large number of invasive species already in Montauk, including mugwort and mile-a-minute weed. 

Hither Woods, the largest intact contiguous woodland in East Hampton Town, was once almost entirely grassland. In the absence of fire management it became treed, except for one small spot called Ram Level. In the absence of management that tiny bit of prairie will soon be gone, too. Then the new name for Hither Woods, Koppelman Woods, as printed in large letters on the sign on the north side of Montauk Highway and plainly visible to passing motorists, will no longer need an asterisk.

On the way back from the grasslands conference, Victoria Bustamante and I talked about Long Island’s fate. At least the best part of the pine barrens is in good hands, but what about the coming Long Island Rail Road third rail to Hicksville and its fearsome Ronkonkoma Hub tag-along, recently shown as an artist’s rendition in Newsday. Hmmm, in the future the largest freshwater lake on Long Island may sit beside the largest commercial development in Suffolk County. Yes, another case of the left brain 180 degrees out of sync with the right brain. What would Robert Moses say if he were still with us?

Larry Penny can be reached via email at [email protected].

As Roseanne Roseannadanna used to tell us on “Saturday Night Live,” “It’s always something,” Things haven’t changed, or is that “the more things change, the more they stay the same”? We’re living in an up-and-down world, in a dynamic equilibrium. If it weren’t for the sunrises and sunsets, the phases of the moon and the clock-like rise and fall of the seas two times a day, we would be lost.

The natural world and the human one are not that different, except that the first is dwindling more and more with each passing year while the population of the second is growing exponentially in size and complexity, with no sign of letting up. Locally, the first is beset with a new epidemic, the southern pine beetle, while the second is beset with McMansions, endless traffic snarling, and out-of-control opioid and alcohol use. And there is no end in sight.

Less than 50 years ago, we scientists thought that we had defined nature definitively. We worked out the structure of the animal and plant kingdoms and we divided the world into several ecosystems: deserts, grasslands, deciduous forests, coniferous forests, tundras, estuaries, and the like. We were able to describe in great detail the series of steps, or “seres” that were involved in going from bare soil to a stately forest, the end seral stage. We rejoiced in the culmination of this work; we thought we had it down solidly. We could take a well-deserved break.

Then all of a sudden we discovered that there were no final end points. The whole progressive, step-by-step system could be returned to its starting point as if overnight and a completely different set of seres would could result. Once well-defined ecosystems would become novel ecosystems, in chaos with as many invasive species as native ones. The wildlife species in these novel ecosystems would behave differently. Some would prosper, some would fade away, new ones would enter and create a cacophony of disharmony, the old notion of a familiar, fixed-in-space-and-time ecological assemblage had been blown to smithereens.

Humans, being creatures of habit, were befuddled and distraught. Their behaviors began to deteriorate and they turned to other ways of getting by. They were pulled this way and the other by conflicting goals and choices. Do we off the deer or do we befriend them? Do we save for the future or do we live for the moment? Do we keep farming or do we get an M.B.A. and join the Wall Street crowd? Do we abort or do we give birth? Do we move away or do we live at home? Do we stay the course or do we flow with the tide?

Do we see a shrink or do we work it out ourselves? Do we go to church or do we sleep in? Who do we love? There are an infinite number of choices. Most of them will work, at least for a little while.

While we are busy morphing from one form to another at a furious pace, the wild animals and plants are equally beset with choices, but their cultures are much more conservative than ours. They don’t dare give up their set ways for fear of losing out. They don’t have doctors, psychiatrists, retreats, and the like to get them through. 

Take the white-tailed deer, for example. Their native habitat is dwindling. What are they to do? If they don’t steal someone’s rhododendron leaves or nibble on their arborvitae, they will lose out. Living by night and not by day will give one some relief. Raccoons, opossums, cottontails, as well as deer, do better feeding in the dark than in the day.

Starlings and house sparrows do well in bluebird boxes. Gray squirrels and flying squirrels like our attics; they’re more protective and cozier. Norway rats are the most successful species of all. They are supreme generalists and will outlive us all! 

Southern pine beetles, gypsy moths, oak wilt, Asian longhorn beetles, black-legged ticks, lone star ticks, West-Nile-carrying mosquitoes, all of the weeds you can think of from the Old World. It’s a jungle out there, but not one we were brought up to live in.

Dixieland, swing, modern jazz, rock ’n’ roll, disco, rap, driverless cars?

Maybe the old-fashioned way is still the best way. Beethoven still works for me. What works for you?

Larry Penny can be reached via email at [email protected].

Blackfish, or tautog or tog as they are also commonly referred to, will not win many underwater beauty contests. Compared to other fish like the exalted and highly prized striped bass, they’re just not the prettiest to admire from up close or from afar. But despite their outwardly dull appearance, don’t underestimate their popularity. 

Stubby and stout with a rather large girth and a uniform, dullish black and brown color, especially seen in smaller-size fish, the blackfish more than makes up for its rather unremarkable appearance by being one of the toughest fighters pound for pound in our local waters. And by feasting on a diet rich in crabs, lobster, mussels, and other hard-shelled specimens, its flakey white flesh makes it one of our more popular inshore fish for eating. 

It was with this in mind that I made my maiden voyage on Friday morning to pursue some tog. Dinner was calling.

With the season opening up the day before (anglers can now retain four fish over 16 inches), the beautiful early morning sky radiant with iridescent pink and orange hues backed by the dense and overly warm air made it feel and look more like late June than early October. Noticing that my water temperature gauge read a balmy 71 degrees at my dock, I fully realized it would be prudent to limit my expectations of the day ahead as blackfish prefer much cooler water temperatures ranging from 50 to 65 degrees.

I set a northerly course for Plum Island with half a bushel of lively green crabs for bait. The water temperature dropped a bit on the ride out to the grounds, but not by much. 

After a smooth 50-minute cruise on the oily-calm waters of Gardiner’s Bay, it was time to find suitable real estate on which to anchor up. Blackfish, like their tough exterior appearance, prefer to live in a very rough neighborhood. Their highly preferred residency consists of rocky, distressed bottom, dense mussel beds, long-gone wrecks, and other sticky hangs and ledges. Setting anchor even a few feet away from such prime structures will result in a long, fishless day. As the old real estate adage goes: location, location, location. 

With the anchor successfully dropped on a dense patch of rocks, the incoming tide, which was just off the recent full moon, was humming along at more than two knots. Not exactly prime time, but the tide was expected to reach full slack in about 90 minutes and would offer better conditions. Baiting a freshly split green crab in two pieces on a hi-lo rig and a 12-ounce sinker, I quickly lowered my rig into the strong current. In less than 20 seconds, I felt the telltale taps of an inquisitive tog seeking an early breakfast meal. And a few seconds later, the first fish of the day hit the deck. Well under the minimum size, the spunky fish was quickly released to fight another day. 

As the tide began to ease up, the action continued at a torrid pace, but a fish approaching 16 inches was just not in the cards, despite my prime location. It was clear to me that I was fishing near a nursery school, as it was overpopulated by juvenile tog and small sea bass. Clearly, the parents had left the kids alone that day and were spending their morning in another location. 

Notwithstanding my empty bucket, the day was still a success in my view. The combination of beautiful weather and fish actively biting, albeit small in size, is certainly hard to beat. I’m also grateful we have a number of fine fish markets around to help fill the void when you’re after fresh fish. 

Over at Tightlines Tackle Shop in Sag Harbor, the proprietor Ken Morse confirmed the slow start to the blackfish season. “The waters are very warm for this time of the year,” he said. “I’ve sold a ton of green crabs, but just about everyone who fished said they were inundated by small blackfish. Keepers have been few and far between.” Morse added that the action along the ocean beaches is improving, but it’s nothing to get too excited about. “Again, we really have not had fall weather yet. Even the fishing for false albies has been picky, too, of late.”

At the Tackle Shop in Amagansett, the owner Harvey Bennett was in a chatty mood about the improved, local fishing scene as he unfurled a Basque flag outside his shop on Montauk Highway in Monday’s stiff southwesterly breeze.  “Many people don’t know it, but the Basque people were fishing for codfish off the Grand Banks of Newfoundland well before Christopher Columbus discovered the new world in 1492,” he said of the group of people from a region in northwest Spain and part of France. “They had a rich whaling history, too. And I’m amazed how many people recognize the flag when they drive by the shop and want to talk about it. Very cool.” 

Fishing history lesson aside, Bennett was enthused about the action for striped bass. “Lots of bass from Gurney’s to Wainscott to the west with many nice-sized fish being landed,” he said. “Mixed in are some blues, weakfish, and a good amount of shad. For boaters, the bass bite has been very good at the fort at the north end of Gardiner’s Island. And if you want blowfish, they are big and plentiful in many areas, especially Napeague Harbor.” On a side note, Bennett added that he now has all the tools necessary to repair Van Staal reels. The pricey reels are considered to be the Rolls-Royce of surfcasting rods.

The action at Montauk continues its strong pace as well. “Striped bass fishing has truly been excellent,” said Ben Mahler at the Star Island Yacht Club in Montauk. “Lots of big fish continue to be landed in the usual spots around the point.” Mahler added that the blackfish action was just getting started, while porgy and sea bass catches continue to please many.

When the winds are not blowing, anglers continue to find some consistent action with sharks. Capt. Ron Onorato of the Captain Ron weighed in a hefty 268-pound mako for a recent charter. A fittingly successful way to end his offshore trips for the year.

 



We welcome your fishing tips, observations, and photographs at [email protected]. You can find the “On the Water” column on Twitter at @ehstarfishing.

Every once in a while we are visited by a strange species from the north, west, east, or south. These occurrences are called accidentals. On occasion, as in the case of the cattle egret, which is native to Africa, the exotic species will establish on another continent, as it did in South America, then visit a third continent, in this case, North America, and establish there. Those few bird species, such as the osprey, that are cosmopolitan and found on all continents, started on one and spread to the others, one continent at a time.

This October a different cosmopolitan species, the brown booby, common in the Caribbean countries and throughout tropical seas of the world, showed up in Montauk and may have found a new home. Most likely it was pushed up by one of the hurricanes, Jose or Maria, which moved up from the American tropics toward Long Island’s coast before turning easterly and heading out to sea. The brown booby is a spectacular bird, one of the biggest and most colorful of seabirds, with a wingspan approaching five feet. Unlike most pelagic birds, the albatrosses, gannets, etc., it is sexually dimorphic, with the males sporting a dark brown head, neck, and back, a white chin, and white undersides.

Without dwelling on the world-famous story of the so-called Montauk monster, Montauk is one of the places on Long Island where such accidentals frequently show up. And, not just birds. Tarpons have been caught off Montauk. One of the largest great white sharks was caught off Montauk. The Japanese shore crab has established in the rocky intertidal of Montauk Point. Not too long ago, a manatee from Florida made its home in Lake Montauk to the delight of many, some of whom fed it water from their hands.

Montauk had the first breeding turkey vultures on Long Island, the first gray and hooded seals. Montauk is also the home of the blue-spotted salamander, a native that is found nowhere else on Long Island.

The world is flush with animals and plants trading places and always has been. Montauk, halfway between the North Pole and the tropics and sticking out into the second largest ocean as it does, is the rightful spot for such a potpourri of species. Just about every rare pelagic bird known to man — including ivory, Iceland, glaucous, kittiwake and lesser black-backed gulls, two murres, all manner of petrels, and an occasional jaeger or two — have been recorded in the waters off Montauk Point.

Let’s not forget that Montauk has, or once had, the largest populations of a federally endangered flowering plant, the sandplain gerardia. After the Hempstead Plains, which was reduced to less than 20 acres over the course of the 20th century, Montauk has the largest prairie on Long Island and in New York State. It once included not only what is now Hither Woods, but also the state’s Montauk Downs golf course and the historical polo field and cattle ranch. Unfortunately, in the absence of major fires, that prairie, which once was home to prairie chickens, turkeys, and wolves, has been growing up into a shrubby savanna or heathland at a rapid pace.

Montauk is also an important aquatic habitat. Until Lake Montauk was opened to the sea in the mid-1920s, it was the largest freshwater lake on Long Island. Fort Pond, also in Montauk, is now the second largest, after Lake Ronkonkoma. Because there is a clay stratum between the deep sands and surface soils throughout much of southern Montauk, there are “perched wetlands” that are inhabited not only by eastern newts, spotted turtles, and a large variety of ferns and other rare-to-Long-Island wetlands plants. There are also several deep kettles, which have yet to be fully explored, that have wet bottoms covered with an unusual flora.

The Walking Dunes on Napeague, with their cranberry bog and sands that move southeasterly at a few millimeters a year, rival the Fire Island dunes in height and scope. The shad-and-holly-dominated moorlands of Montauk, running behind Long Island’s only ocean bluffs, are unique and sport several rare and unusual plant species, including the sandplain gerardia mentioned above.

Montauk is rich in glacial erratics, random large boulders that can be as large as a house. Some are land-bound, while others are off both the North and South Shores. The glacier that created almost all of Montauk’s land mass reached well offshore, thus the big rocks that stick up from the ocean’s surface here, and those larger ones that are permanently covered by water. Those that one comes across on land, such as Split Rock in Hither Woods, sport areas of green and gray lichens that are hundreds, perhaps thousands of years old. 

I could go on and on. But it was the brown booby, which I have yet to see, that got me into this long account. It is obvious that my love for Montauk is unbounded, isn’t it? 

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Larry Penny can be reached via email at [email protected].

Saturday morning dawned damp and gray at the docks in Montauk Harbor. The steady and strong northeasterly wind the prior three days had dissipated overnight and was now gently coming off the slowly cooling Atlantic Ocean from the southeast. Despite a forecast only a few hours earlier calling for little to no rain, I thankfully took the foul-weather gear and non-skid fishing boots as a precaution. Better to be over-prepared than wishing I had packed more clothing and supplies, especially if we were planning to fish a decent distance south of Montauk for codfish. 

On the ride out — hot coffee secured in the cabin — the seas were still a bit lumpy from the previous blow. By the time we reached our first fishing hole in about 130 feet of water, the steady drizzle turned into a light rain. Good call on bringing the extra gear.

There were some decent reports of cod a week earlier, but the ever-present black sea bass could be a problem. While they are widely proclaimed to be one of the tastiest fish, sadly, we would not be able retain any, as the season for them in Rhode Island and federal waters (more than three miles offshore) remains closed until this coming Sunday. Aggressive feeders that swim fast, sea bass can quickly overrun a hungry cod to a hook baited with clams. Still, if there were enough cod around, we stood a good chance of taking home a few for dinner that night. It was a risk we were willing to take. 

With the boat slowing to a crawl, the fish finder screen in the wheelhouse was lit up, showing a plethora of life below. Was it baitfish, sea bass, porgy, cod, or a combination of them all? Whatever was showing on the color screen, it looked like there was a big New Orleans Mardi Gras-style party going on. And we would soon find out who was invited. 

While my colleagues decided to bait up with fresh skimmer clams on a hi-lo rig, I rigged up with an eight-ounce diamond jig adorned with a pink rubber squid teaser about two feet above. I’m always happy to avoid dealing with slimy clams if any fish is willing to inhale an artificial lure. The boat now settled squarely on the drift, the rain started to intensify along with a newly formed blanket of fog. 

Casting away from the boat, my jig took about 15 seconds to hit bottom. And as soon as I engaged my reel to start my slow retrieve, my rod took a huge hit and a large fish was immediately hooked. About two minutes later, it was a sight to behold as a beautiful double-header of sea bass, each weighing at least four pounds, lay lazily upon the surface. I have never caught two sea bass of that size on one cast before. Alas, the fish needed to be safely returned to fight another day and rejoin the party down below. 

Looking to my left, my four friends on board were also instantly hooked into similar-size fish. All were sea bass and all had doubleheaders on their respective rods. The fishing was insane. After about 45 minutes and a few drifts, it was clear that the sea bass were just too thick and that our hopes of landing a cod would be in vain. We did land one short cod that was released, but it was impossible to get away from the giant-size sea bass.

Back in New York State waters closer to shore, the sea bass were still in residence but were remarkably smaller in size, as it was a true struggle to find any keeper fish.  Despite a distance of only a few miles, the adults and children clearly resided in different neighborhoods. No doubt when the ban on fish being taken in the deeper federal waters is lifted on Sunday, some excellent fishing will take place for those lucky enough to venture offshore. Get ready.

As for the other bass, striped bass, catches remain solid at Montauk. “Striped bass fishing has been excellent when the winds allow us to get out,” said Capt. Michael Albronda of the charter boat Montauk. “Lots of nice-sized fish too.”

Big bluefish are also in town. “The giant-sized gators are everywhere from Shagwong to the Point,” said Capt. Michael Vegessi of the Lazy Bones, which specializes in half-day fishing with diamond jigs. “The blues have made it a challenge to get to the striped bass, but hopefully some cold weather soon will change it up a bit.”

Over at Mrs. Sam’s Bait and Tackle in East Hampton, the owner, Sebastian Gorgone, was enjoying the memories of savoring the culinary delights from his recent trip to Paris. “Paris is such a great city and the food was just amazing,” said Monsieur Gorgone after returning home Saturday night. “I had my share of frogs’ legs and escargots for sure. And the local people there were so nice, too. Great time.” Gorgone added that bass and blues were being taken locally in Three Mile Harbor. 

“Fishing along the beaches has been pretty good,” said Harvey Bennett of the Tackle Shop in Amagansett. “Some nice keepers were taken on Monday morning at Georgica and some blues and weakfish have been mixed in too.” Bennett added that blowfish and kingfish are still running on the bay side and that false albacore fishing continues to be productive as well.

Fishing news out of Sag Harbor was on the quiet side. “I had very few reports coming in,” said Ken Morse at Tight Lines Tackle. “Blackfishing is still slow and even the activity along the ocean beaches has not been great either.”  

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We welcome your fishing tips, observations, and photographs at [email protected]. You can find the “On the Water” column on Twitter at @ehstar­fishing.

If you are a fan of catching black sea bass, you have certainly been spoiled for a number of years by the increasingly large biomass of the fish. It seems they are everywhere, and now they are showing up in locations never seen before. 

In Sag Harbor and points westward deep into Great Peconic Bay, the waters are teaming with small fish in the 5-to-10-inch range (recreational anglers can retain eight fish over 15 inches). Up until 5 to 10 years ago, it was truly a rare occasion to catch one in these areas. Not anymore. 

It’s not often you hear that too many fish are a problem, but not everyone is pleased by their increased presence in our local waters. A voracious feeder, sea bass, among other fish like striped bass, cod, spiny dogfish, blackfish, and even seals, have a strong appetite for one of our most prized and expensive seafoods, Atlantic lobster. While there are no lobsters to be found in the mostly sandy Peconic Estuary system for the fish to feast on, once you get out to the deeper and cooler waters of Long Island Sound, Block Island Sound, and farther offshore, it is a different story, as a natural rocky structure provides a safe haven for lobsters to hide from predators. But even with the cover of rocks, kelp, and mussel beds, fishermen who drop a line for sea bass or set traps for lobster, continue to witness a decrease in the number of lobsters being landed, and much of the blame is being pointed at sea bass.

“The National Marine Fisheries Service biologist’s attribute the decline in the Long Island lobster population primarily to warming ocean waters,” said Capt. Ron Onorato of the charter boat Captain Ron out of the Montauk Marine Basin. “While this may be contributory, I think the greater likelihood is the predation of juvenile lobsters by a biomass of sea bass that is the largest I have seen in my 45 years of fishing at Montauk. After every sea bass trip, the bottom of my fish box is littered with upwards of 15, three-to-four-inch, regurgitated lobsters. Clearly there is decent lobster recruitment as is evidenced by this. But there are so many sea bass right now, I can’t fathom any bottom-dwelling crustaceans surviving.”

Lobsters don’t have it easy. In addition to trying to avoid a variety of predators, they are very slow to reach market size. It takes about seven years for a lobster to reach legal size (lobsters landed in New York waters must be at least three and three-eighths inches in carapace length). And in the midst of the current sea bass population boom, Onorato advocates an increase in fish limits for both commercial and recreational anglers to help “thin the herd” more than is allowed now. “Until then, this situation will continue,” he said. “In addition to the juvenile lobsters, I also have seen many more regurgitated one-to-two-inch bergalls. It’s time to look overall at the predator-prey relationship in fisheries management decisions.”

Tom Eckart, a veteran commercial fisherman and lobsterman out of Montauk Harbor, echoed Onorato’s observation. “The inshore lobstering this year was terrible,” he said from the stern of his heavily used boat the Laurentide. “No doubt about it, the sea bass population has exploded and it has taken its toll on lobsters. My fish pots are jammed every time with sea bass. It’s ridiculous.” Commercial fishermen can only retain 50 pounds of sea bass per day. 

Whether catch limits for this popular fish will be raised next season remains to be seen. For now, sea bass continue to luxuriously dine on a heavy diet of fresh lobster. Bon appetit. 

On the fishing front, fluking off the south side of Montauk in 45 to 60 feet of water, finished up in fine style (the season concludes today), despite the swells and rougher seas due to Hurricane Jose, which stayed offshore this week. Plenty of large fish were taken up until the blow, including a doormat of nearly 14 pounds taken on Saturday aboard the Miss Montauk II. 

“The fishing was really good, with some fish over 10 pounds, but each day was different,” said Capt. Michael Vegessi of the open boat Lazy Bones. “They bit at different times of the day or tide. But we had a nice long season with the fluke.” The Bones will make the annual shift to diamond jigging for striped bass and bluefish on tomorrow. 

“Fishing has had its up and downs of late,” said Capt. Michael Potts of the charter boat Bluefin IV out of Montauk. “One day the striped bass are very large and the next day they are smaller. It’s the same with other species. But it should be a good fall of fishing. I’m looking forward to it.”

At the Tackle Shop on Montauk Highway in Amagansett, the owner, Harvey Bennett, said that striped bass have been consistent at first light at Napeague. “It’s been good, but the ocean heave this week may change that up a bit.” Bennett said that the false albacore fishing has been “off the charts” of late, at various spots, including Montauk Inlet and in and around Gardiner’s Island. He recommends a small Deadly Dick lure as the weapon of choice for landing the small tunny. “And there is no reason to reel like crazy, too,” preached Bennett. “The fish are directional feeders and do not move forward as fast as most think. They are pursuing baitfish from the bottom towards the surface.”

An avid hunter, Bennett is also in the midst of gearing up for the fall season. “Fall is the best time out here on the East End for fishing and hunting,” he said. “Goose season opened on Sept. 1, and my favorite, woodcock season, opens on Oct. 1.” The archery deer season also opens that day. In addition to providing local fishing charters on his own boat, Bennett is a licensed hunting guide ready to take people afield or on the water.

“The albies invaded Three Mile Harbor on Sunday,” said an enthused Sebastian Gorgone of Mrs. Sam’s Bait and Tackle in East Hampton. “Folks were catching them from the jetties. It’s pretty rare for that to happen here.” As for the ocean beaches, Gorgone said that the surf is rough and dirty and will likely remain that way for quite a while until Jose departs. 

Farther to the west, reports were a bit more scattered. “Things have been a bit quiet,” said Ken Morse of Tight Lines Tackle in Sag Harbor. “Some false albacore are around Gardiner’s Island, as well as Big and Little Gull Island.” Morse added that bluefish can still be had at Jessup’s Neck. Note that Tight Lines is now closed on Tuesday and Wednesday.

We welcome your fishing tips, observations, and photographs at [email protected]. You can find the “On the Water” column on Twitter at @ehstarfishing.

Hear ye, hear ye, hear ye! The Long Island hunting season for bobwhite quail starts on Nov. 1 and ends on Dec. 31. The bag limit is six per day, 40 per season. One wonders if there are still 40 bobwhites left on Long Island to hunt, least of all on the South Fork, where I haven’t heard one piping for several years running. As a boy growing up in Mattituck on the North Fork, I would often hear that pleasant bob-bob-white call on a spring morning. 

I first learned that call before I was 2 listening to the Rinso advertisements during my mother’s morning soap operas, many of which were sponsored by soap companies. Some of you may remember it: “Bob-bob white, Rinso white happy little wash day song.” Radio soap operas have gone the way of the Hudson, Nash, DeSoto, and Studebaker automobiles, and knickers. The Rinso white ditty died out with them. 

In the 1930s and 1940s the bobwhite was as well known as the robin and the mockingbird, two other birds that often found their way into the lyrics of the popular songs of the day. Every schoolchild knew the names of those birds. Ironically, perhaps, our own native bobwhite, Colinus virginianus, is doing better in many other parts of the world, such as Italy, to which it has been introduced from American stock. Today how many American kids have heard a bobwhite singing outside their windows? I bet very few.

Just as the ruffed grouse has disappeared locally, bobwhites have become scarcer and scarcer with each passing year. The last time I saw some was 20 years ago on the grounds of the Peach Farm on the south side of Northwest Road in East Hampton when I frightened a covey that took off in all directions with a loud whirr of wings. In my mind’s eye I still see that event clearly.

Lately, however, with all the news about ticks and the diseases they carry, Lyme, ehrlichiosis, and babesiosis, bobwhites have found a new level of popularity. Apparently the adults and young eat ticks. Thus, the Town of North Hempstead in Nassau County this year raised several native quail and released them a few weeks ago, while Southold Town, across the bay, has been making plans to do the same. On the South Fork, the Friends of the Long Pond Greenbelt are thinking of doing it in 2018. That organization let some go locally several years ago, but they quickly disappeared, apparently eaten by hawks, foxes, and feral cats.

Having had a very bad bout with Lyme disease in the past and, perhaps, still suffering sporadically from chronic Lyme syndrome, and also being a lover of bobwhites, I am seriously thinking of doing what North Hempstead did and Southold is planning to do. 

That is why I attended a bobwhite quail release at a fowl farm on Manor Lane in Jamesport in the Town of Riverhead on Saturday. It was hosted by a former model, Abra, who with her husband raises all matter of fowl, mostly for the restaurant trade, but also to let go in the wild at their Feisty Acres Farm.

The local Girl Scout Troop 1971, or the Quail Scouts, as they have renamed themselves, sponsored the event, the second quail release of the year, at Feisty Acres. Indeed, the Girl Scouts were the ones who released the quail from the specialized brooder pens, made with raised wire bottoms to keep babies off the ground as a sanitary measure. Abra explained that these bobwhites are already able to fly, but are not imprinted on humans and are not set in their ways as adults can be, and so are at the perfect stage for release.

At the appointed hour, several excited Girl Scouts lifted the top of the brooder opening, freeing the birds to take to the sky. And take to the sky they did, but only a few feet off the ground, as quail in the wild do when frightened. Most flew in the direction of the nearby hedgerow, but a few had to be redirected.

We will see what happens. Foxes are few and far between, hawks are more plentiful than in the second half of the last century, and there are several diseases that quail and other gallinaceous birds are prone to. But even if a handful of the more than 30 released quail survive, it could be the start of a rebuilding of the population.

It’s a crapshoot at best, but wait, think of the wild-caught turkeys from upstate New York that were released in Hither Woods, Montauk, by the State Department of Environmental Conservation in the late winter of 1971. How they have prospered since then! Let’s hope that releases of bobwhites here and there on Long Island will eventually bring the population back to pre-1950 levels.

It has been argued that their habitat is gone, but there is as much undeveloped land left on eastern Long Island as developed, thanks to the action of the five eastern towns, in particular their community preservation funds, and to Suffolk County and New York State. The large majority of that undeveloped land is ideal habitat for bobwhites.

Would a resurgence of our bobwhite population help reduce the tick population? That remains to be seen. In the last 10 years the lone star tick, the one that isn’t a Lyme disease threat, has greatly outnumbered the black-legged tick. I would think that those white spots on the backs of the otherwise brown disease-carrying female lone stars would make perfect targets for the pointed bills of the bobwhites.

Woodsmen, please spare those bobwhites. In taking even one a day or one a season, you might be further depleting a number which today one can hardly count on the fingers of one hand.

Larry Penny can be reached via email at [email protected].

As the owner of the Tackle Shop in Amagansett for nearly 40 years, Harvey Bennett has probably seen just about everything that could happen on the water. But even with his keen sense of awareness and history, Bennett has never witnessed so much action tight to the ocean beach with sharks — mainly brown, thresher, and dusky sharks — as he has this summer.

“I have never in my life seen anything like it,” said the wide-eyed purveyor of bait and tackle behind his counter the other day. “Since July, it has been something crazy to see. I mean, so many people are getting their reels spooled by sharks taking their line and bait to Portugal that I’m actually running out of line to refill all the reels I need to do. It’s also been a challenge to keep enough bunker in the shop.” Sharks have a strong affinity for feasting on the oily baitfish, which have been in extreme abundance close to shore all summer.

And the encounters and stories of the activity continue to grow every day. Bennett relayed the tale of a recent incident involving a surfcaster fishing near the rocks of the Montauk Lighthouse who landed a very respectable 20-pound striped bass. About 20 minutes after safely securing the fish to his left torso on a stringer, the caster felt a violent tug to his left side and was immediately pulled off his rocky perch. After regaining his balance and securing his footing, the hapless caster checked on the status of his recent catch to find that only the head of the freshly caught striper remained. The once 36-inch fish was now down to a mere 12-inches or so.  Bennett was not sure how quickly the caster exited the water, but I’m sure it was in near-Olympic-record speed. 

And it’s not just sharks getting all of the attention of late. Seals, too, are in abundance, especially out at Montauk, and are creating their own news, as well.

While fishing Montauk Point last Saturday with three anglers, Capt. Ken Rafferty was experiencing some excellent light-tackle action with bluefish. Then the scene changed quickly. “We were catching lots of bluefish, and off in the distance near a big rock I notice a huge gray seal, but I really don’t think anything of it,” Rafferty said of his own personal close encounter of the strange kind. “About 30 minutes later, one of the anglers hooks up with a bluefish and his line goes screaming out at full speed. I know it has to be that same seal that grabbed his fish, but there is nothing I can do that will stop it or allow the leader to break at my knot. It completely spooled the reel in a matter of seconds.”

About an hour later, in about 17 feet of water, Rafferty’s crew hooked into a bluefish in the bow of the boat, while the captain was busy in the stern helping release a small bluefish that was also hooked. “Just as I released the fish in the stern, I turned to deal with the fish in the bow,” explained Rafferty. “But that same seal comes charging up from the bottom and grabs the bluefish that’s on the line as he rubs against the hull of the boat. The seal then breaches with the bluefish in its mouth to a height where all our eyes meet. It scared the hell out of all of us. We were all stunned as it ran off with the bluefish, spooling another reel.” 

Rafferty may want to call ahead to Bennett to see if he has enough line in stock in his store before paying a visit.

On more benign fishing matters, the action on more low-key species of fish remains good in many areas.

Despite a bloom of rust tide in the Peconics west of Shelter Island, action for blues, weakfish, and porgies remains good. “Excellent weakfish action is going on in Noyac Bay and Smith’s Cove,” said Ken Morse of Tight Lines Tackle in Sag Harbor. “Bluefish can be had at Jessup’s Neck on the incoming tide, while porgies of mixed sizes can be found just about everywhere. Blowfish, too, are also hanging around in good numbers.” Morse added that the local action on snappers and blue-claw crabs remains excellent as well.

Large summer fluke are gearing up for their annual fall migration offshore, as fish up to 14 pounds were landed from the deeper water south of Montauk and Shinnecock in recent days. Providing that we avoid any hurricanes, the action should remain strong through most of September. Those focused on porgies and black sea bass also continue to encounter some great action in local waters. Mixed with them have been a good number of triggerfish. Note that the limit for sea bass expands from three fish per person to eight as of tomorrow. The minimum size remains at 15 inches.

Seems like sea robins have found a nice home in Shinnecock Bay of late. “The bay continues to hold the most sea robins anyone has ever seen,” said Scott Jeffrey of East End Bait and Tackle in Hampton Bays. “That said, we have seen an increase in the amount of keeper fluke despite all of the robins.” Jeffrey says that the best action is coming from those who fish in the shallowest part of the bay. He added that the Shinnecock Inlet has seen a few nice fluke taken on live spot and that the area around the Ponquogue Bridge is holding some schoolie striped bass for those chumming and fishing with clams.

Offshore, bluefin are still in range at the Coimbra wreck and Butterfish Hole. The action for yellowfin has been a bit picky, with some making the long trek to Veatch Canyon far to the east to secure a few fish. Capt. Robert Aaronson of the charter boat Oh Brother out of Montauk set course for a long-range trip recently and reported that the mahi mahi were plentiful everywhere. The captain and crew also hooked into a white marlin and a large blue marlin on the same trip. 

Light-tackle enthusiasts will be pleased to know that false albacore have shown up in force on the east side of Gardiner’s Island. “I was out there a few days ago and there were several pods of them around,” said Bennett. “It’s a sign that the seasons are changing.”

No word if any sharks or seals followed Bennett around that day.

We welcome your fishing tips, observations, and photographs at [email protected]. You can find the “On the Water” column on Twitter at @ehstarfishing.

Like me, I’m sure you have seen more than your fair share of out-of-state license plates on our roads this summer. California has been a common one, along with Texas, Ontario, Illinois, Florida, and New Mexico, to name just a few. There have been no sightings of a plate from Guam, but there is still time; however, we have seen some other foreign and distant visitors make a cameo appearance in the high-profile Hamptons scene of late. These are not your summer jet-setters ready to attend the latest charity event. These have fins and gills.

Every season, especially during the heavy depths of our summer warmth, we have a unique chance to gawk at some rather unexpected and infrequently seen species of fish that make an impromptu appearance in our local waterways. While striped bass, fluke, porgies, bluefish, sea bass, and the like rule the roost as some of our most common inshore species, especially for those who tend to commercial pound traps, the diverse assortment of fish caught each morning can provide some interesting surprises. And this summer has proven as no exception. 

Over the past few weeks commercial baymen, as well as recreational anglers, have reported such unusual catches as Lafayette, Spanish mackerel, cobia, black drum, torpedo rays, spiny southern puffers, sheepshead, hickory shad, southern croakers, and even a tarpon or two. Old-timers would call that a mixed bag for sure.

One fish that has taken up residence this summer in numbers not seen in years is frigate mackerel. A subspecies of tuna, they are normally found in tropical waters around the world. “Frigate mackerel are all over the place this summer feeding on juvenile butterfish and peanut bunker,” said Capt. Merritt White, the light-tackle specialist and guide of Gunkholin Charters. White also said that small tinker mackerel, a cousin of the frigate, are also in good supply.

The prevalence of frigate and tinker mackerel, along with huge pods of bunker close to our ocean shoreline, is a very likely reason that shark fishing has been exceptional of late, with a short ride to the fishing grounds from just about any port of call. 

“The shark bite is about as close as you want now,” said Scott Jeffrey at East End Bait and Tackle in Hampton Bays. “The massive schools of bunker are in anywhere from 20 to 60 feet of water. Thresher, mako, and brown shark have been spotted, caught, and landed by many.” He added that schools of Spanish mackerel are also mixed with the bunker. Jeffrey was equally enthused that false albacore have showed up in force at Shinnecock Inlet. Time to unpack your light tackle, small jigs, and thin fluorocarbon leaders. 

Bluefish have been a bit more elusive of late. While some small cocktails can be had on the incoming tide at Jessup’s Neck, better action can be found at Montauk. “The bluefish out in Montauk have been plentiful and large,” said Capt. Ken Rafferty, a light-tackle specialist in East Hampton. Large is probably an understatement as Rafferty’s nephew, Bobby Yurkewitch, landed a Godzilla-like bluefish that bottomed out the scale at 24 pounds. Even the most experienced dentist is likely to stay away from those teeth. Bluefish are not nicknamed “choppers” for nothing.

Down the road at the Tackle Shop in Amagansett, Harvey Bennett also extolled the great variety of fishing on a number of fronts. “Bottlefish are everywhere and the fluking is good off of Napeague and Fort Pond Bay,” he said. “Weakfish showed up off of Accabonac Harbor and Promised Land too.” Bennett confirmed that the big bluefish are roaming the shoreline at Montauk and points east along the ocean beaches, where sharks of several varieties have also been landed.

Sebastian Gorgone, the proprietor of Mrs. Sam’s Bait and Tackle in East Hampton, also confirmed the local shark reports. “It was truly shark week,” he said. “And many different species too, including dusky, thresher, bull, and brown sharks close to shore.” Gorgone added that bluefish finally showed up at the Ruins at the northern tip of Gardiner’s Island in recent days.

For those intent on weakfish, the action has been red hot in Noyac Bay. “It has been excellent near Buoy 16 in particular,” said Ken Morse of Tight Lines Bait and Tackle in Sag Harbor. “The sizes are mixed. One day they are small, but on some days larger fish up to eight pounds can be had even during the midday sun.” As a reminder, the recreational limit for weakfish is one fish over 16 inches per person. 

At Montauk, the striped bass action continues to be good depending on the tides, while porgy and sea bass fishing remains consistent. Fluke fishing has been excellent, with Midway, Cartwright, Frisbees, and Rocky Hill being the popular spots of late for those focused on larger fish.

“We have seen a number of big fish, too,” said Kathy Vegessi of the open boat Lazy Bones. The top fish of the week was taken by Joanna McKasty on Saturday afternoon’s trip: a true doormat tipping the scales at 13.7 pounds.

For those who don’t mind a longer boat ride, the cod action to the east of the wind farm at Block Island has also been productive. Despite a strong tide, a group of friends and I landed about 30 cod up to 15 pounds in Saturday’s rain. Good news is that we did not encounter any pesky spiny dogfish during our outing. Now that’s one visitor I’m glad we did not see. 

We welcome your fishing tips, observations, and photographs at [email protected]. You can find the “On the Water” column on Twitter at @ehstarfishing.

I tried not to get caught up in the whole solar eclipse hype, but it was hard to escape the constant chatter and commotion leading up to the Monday afternoon event. 

While grabbing an early cup of coffee on Saturday morning at my local 7-Eleven, I even noticed a display of some rather flimsy paper eyewear near the ever-rotating hot dogs for those keen on taking a peek at the infrequent celestial event. They had micro-thin, dark green plastic lenses that appeared not to be more than a sheet of Japanese nori seaweed paper. I passed on purchasing a pair, and the hot dog, too. Better to just take in the event as an everyday occurrence and go about my day’s business as usual. And if I were to somehow possibly miss it, I could always see it replayed on just about every media platform imaginable.

But upon my exit from the establishment, I glanced at the television screen above the counter to see that the Weather Channel was heralding acute warnings that the Atlantic hurricane season was gaining strength and was set to become more active. My ears perked up at that point. 

Meteorologists and their forecasts will always get a bad rap. That will probably never change. However, I usually get a bit of a chuckle when Colorado State University puts out its annual forecast for the Atlantic Basin hurricane season. 

For me, it’s just a matter of basic geography. Colorado is a pretty darn good distance from the Atlantic Ocean. I would figure the meteorologists on the campus located at the base of the Rocky Mountain Front Range would have a lock on predicting snowfall amounts for some of the nearby ski resorts. Notwithstanding the location of the college, the C.S.U. Tropical Meteorology Project has actually done a respectable job over the years in its projections. 

The other week, C.S.U. updated its forecast for the rest of the Atlantic hurricane season this year. The new forecast is for 16 named storms (with winds of 39 miles per hour or higher), 8 hurricanes (74 m.p.h. or higher), and 3 major hurricanes of Category 3 or higher (111 m.p.h. and up). An average year has 12 named storms, 6 hurricanes, and 2 major hurricanes. Time only will tell how accurate C.S.U.’s predictions will be.

While the hurricane season enters its prime historical level of activity over the next few weeks, fingers remain crossed that Long Island will once again luck out and dodge a big storm. We’ve had a number of close calls over the years since Hurricane Bob hit the East End hard on Aug. 19, 1991, when it passed between Montauk and Block Island with gusts nearing 120 miles per hour. While electric power was knocked out in some locations for over a week, including for yours truly, the storm certainly left an indelible mark on the local fishing scene as well.

“We never caught a fluke after that storm,” recalled Capt. Michael Vegessi, the longtime operator of the Lazybones party boat out of Montauk. “The groundswells and dirty water just killed the rest of the season right then and there. We had to ultimately switch to striped bass and bluefish, something we would not normally do until much later in September.”

Vegessi also noted fishing can suffer just as badly even when a powerful storm remains far offshore. “Even a large storm off the Carolinas can kick up the seas pretty bad up here and throw the fishing off for many days,” he said. “Fluke are particularly sensitive to this, but others like bluefish and sea bass seem to be less affected. Each storm is different and can have different repercussions, no matter how close it gets.” Vegessi believes that noise plays a factor, too. “Wave and swell action create a lot of turbulence and noise on the bottom, and fluke just don’t like that. They shut down and move to quieter and cleaner water.” 

Speaking of the current fluke action, Vegessi has been generally satisfied with the activity of late. “Some days are better than others,” he said. “Sea bass have picked up the slack, too, on some of the trips. But, let’s hope we don’t have any big storms to mess it up.” Depending on the action, Vegessi will likely stick with fluke until the middle of September, before focusing on bluefish and striped bass for the remainder of the season.

Some may think of him as a hurricane himself, but Harvey Bennett, proprietor of the Tackle Shop in Amagansett, was closely watching the track of his own storm — Tropical Storm Harvey — as it skimmed into the southern Caribbean Sea, before ultimately fizzling out as a depression before reaching the Yucatan Peninsula a few days ago. 

“Hopefully we will avoid a major storm this season,” said Bennett, before noting that shark catches along the ocean beaches still remain common. “Most seem to be sandbar sharks, but there have been some others too.” He added that snappers continue to grow in size and remain plentiful at nearby docks and bulkheads, while porgy and sea bass fishing remains top notch in and around Gardiner’s Island. For aficionados of large bluefish, choppers up to nearly 20 pounds can be found roaming around Montauk Point, Shagwong, and Fort Pond Bay.  

And as baseball season reaches its final stages of the season, Bennett’s season-long quest to secure various baseball items for underprivileged children in the Dominican Republic, including mitts, gloves, bats, and helmets, has officially entered the bottom of the ninth inning. “The boxes are getting filled, but we need more stuff,” exclaimed Bennett, giving his finest fiery Leo (the Lip) Durocher manager speech. “Keep looking in your basement.”

Over at Mrs. Sam’s Bait and Tackle in East Hampton, the owner, Sebastian Gorgone, was very enthused over the large influx of baitfish that have encamped at the northern end of Gardiner’s Island of late. “Lots of bait around that has brought in a mess of mixed sizes of blues and striped bass,” he said smiling behind the counter the other day. “One cast could have a small snapper blue and the next will be a 15-pound fish. Same with stripers, with the bigger fish hugging close down to the bottom.”  

Ken Morse at Tight Lines Tackle in Sag Harbor reports that blue claw crab catches remain strong. “It’s been a great summer of catching in many of the coves, bays, and creeks,” he said. “Porgies are near Robins Island out to Cedar Point, while weakfish are still good around Noyac Bay.” If bluefish are on your menu, Morse suggested tossing a diamond jig on the incoming tide at Jessup’s Neck.

Those focused on offshore action continue to be pleased with sharks a close ride out from port. Plenty of mako and thresher sharks continue to follow the massive amount of bait set up in 100 feet of water south of Montauk.

Here’s to no hurricanes and calm seas.

We welcome your fishing tips, observations, and photographs at [email protected]. You can find the “On the Water” column on Twitter at @ehstarfishing.