The dog days of summer are supposed to wait until mid-August, but decided to come in July this year. Ouch! Having said that, the way the climate has been heating up in this decade, come August, the days could get even doggier. 

It was only 25 years ago when most of us drove around in cars sans air conditioners. I’m reminded of Wernher Von Braun, a Nazi rocket scientist imported by the United States military establishment, who, when asked how it was coming from northern Germany to live and work in the 100-degree days at the Redstone Arsenal in Alabama, replied, “I live in an air-conditioned house, drive back and forth to work in an air-conditioned car, and work in an air-conditioned office.”

The birds have suddenly gone quiet. The night chorusing of snowy tree crickets has yet to start. It’s hard to find a breeze at midday to evaporate the beads of sweat. If it weren’t for the vehicles swooshing by one after another all day long, there would be no breeze at all. The sizzling hot humid days are helping to create conditions that are just right for growing blue-green algae. Throw in a little nitrate, ammonia, and phosphate and you have got yourself a blue-green bloom and a pea-green soup. Not the kind of water you want to swim in, or even smell or look at.

On the other hand, the gardens and farms are flourishing. Potatoes are back and blooming big time. Sweet corn is just around the corner. The fishing community is still eking out a living providing us with fresh fish and shellfish. If it weren’t for the local farmers and local fishermen summer would not taste the same as it did when I was growing up in Mattituck across the bay.

There are four or five coyotes or coy-wolves wandering around now on the South Fork. They’ve been seen in Water Mill, Wainscott, Sagaponack, and elsewhere. Well, when Europeans first settled here, there were lots of wolves, bobcats, and other predatory mammals. They took care of any overpopulation problems amongst their prey. They do a much better job at it than our clumsy United States Department of Agriculture sharpshooters and those that cut the ovaries out of living does in the name of population control. Hell, we can’t even control our own population, let alone those of other vertebrates.

The shorebirds that nest on the tundra each summer after stopping by for a bite or two on the way are already wrapping up their breeding activities, and are already moving south, stopping along the way in places like Mecox Bay, Shinnecock Bay, and any other local waters with shoals and mud flats at low tide that provide a couple of hours of good picking in daylight. A few shorebirds — oystercatchers, least terns, willets, and piping plovers — don’t go much father north than Long Island to breed. Somehow they manage on our beaches and in our marshes year after year, but not without a little help from their human protectors. If you go near their nests when they are raising young they let you know it in no uncertain terms.

You may have noticed an uptick in woodchucks and flying squirrels here on the South Fork. The former are vegetarians, the latter rival crows and grackles in the way they steal nestlings for protein. 

Notwithstanding the renewed competition with eagles and the age-old competition with cormorants for food, the ospreys are having a very good year. There are at present four nests within a couple of miles of one another on either side of Long Beach Road, which runs between Noyac Bay and Sag Harbor Cove. All have at least two young beginning to flap their wings in anticipation of their flight lessons. Apparently, there are enough fish around to feed us and the fish-eating birds, a very good sign if you are a fisherman or fisherwoman.

This year, for the first time ever, I would guess, there are more fish crows around than common crows. Outside my window every afternoon the fish crows’ calls drown out the others. It’s as if the larger species and longtime inhabitants, have given in to the smaller interlopers. But since fish crows are suited for urban and suburban areas, it’s also a sign that the East End is becoming more and more citified with each passing year. Newsday quotes a local official that Montauk is becoming upscale, a euphemism for “gentrified.” 

As we run out of open parcels on which to build, no worry, just raze another house and replace it with a bigger one. If it weren’t for the 2-percent community preservation fund tax where would we be?

Then we have the green energy people getting more boisterous by the minute. A bunch of them now want to cut forests down to make room for solar panels, another bunch wants to muddy up the seas with wind turbines. Add up all of the free spaces represented by residential house roofs, those of big box stores, schools and institutions, parking lots, and other non-vegetated spaces and you could produce enough solar energy to light up the entire South Fork. Maybe we should return to the ways of the 1930s and play all athletic contests, professional and amateur, during the day, and use only LED lighting for public and commercial spaces. How about our political leaders preaching conservation of our resources? Drive less, take trains and buses, bike more, walk more, turn out lights when not in use, pee on the ground instead of in the toilet, have smaller families, live in smaller houses, and raise veggies and chickens in the backyard. What ever happened to the notion of zero population growth? If we had taken President Carter seriously back in the late 1970s we would be much further ahead than we are now.

Several scientists have been quoted as saying the oceans are dying. The Gulf of Mexico, an important arm of the Atlantic Ocean, may never recover from British Petroleum’s $51 billion oil spill. Come on, folks, it’s now or never.

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

The 40-pound striped bass that lately have been blanketing East End fishing docks were drawn to local waters by the arrival of Atlantic menhaden, or bunker as they are known locally. The name menhaden is derived from a blend of Native American words that mean “he fertilizes,” which refers to the fish’s early use as fertilizer, including by the pilgrims in the early-17th century.  

Menhaden are critical to the ecology of coastal waters. They are foraging open-mouth feeders that can filter up to four gallons of seawater a minute. Menhaden consume large volumes of algae, which mitigates dangerous algae blooms generated by nitrogen runoff from fertilizers, wastewater, and failing septic systems. The fish also are a favorite prey species of sport fish, including striped bass, bluefish, tuna, and sharks, as well as an important food source for many local bird species including ospreys, egrets, seagulls, and herons. 

Atlantic menhaden are the most heavily commercially harvested fish, by volume, on the East Coast, according to the National Ocean and Atmospheric Association. Only pollock off Alaska are landed in greater volume. 

Omega Protein Corporation, founded in 1913, takes about 90 percent of the menhaden collected in United States waters to manufacture fish oil, fishmeal, and aquaculture feed products. The total quota for Atlantic menhaden set by the Atlantic States Marine Fisheries Commission in 2016 is 187,800 metric tons. To paraphrase Elvis, that’s a hunka hunka bunker. 

Menhaden are highly valued as a rich source of omega-3 fatty acids, which have been shown to cut risks of heart disease and possibly other ailments, including Alzheimer’s. The balance of the menhaden bounty is sold commercially as bait. 

The history of East Hampton and the bunker are intertwined. At one time there were multiple factories that processed menhaden into fishmeal on Napeague and in Promised Land, an area along Gardiner’s Bay west of Napeague Harbor. A 1998 East Hampton Star article reported that Fannie Gardiner — who may or may not have been right — claimed that the name Promised Land arose when “an act of Congress ‘promised’ that [a] fish factory could be located at Napeague and never moved due to odor from fish.”

In calm seas a school of bunker can be recognized from a distance by an agitating ripple on the surface of the water. One school of bunker can cover an acre of water and contain tens of thousands of fish. The more tightly compact the school the greater the chance a predator is in the vicinity. Menhaden are said to surface more often on a flood tide than on the ebb and more often in gentle seas than in rough ones.  

There are several strategies for fishing with bunker and around bunker schools. A common and proven approach is to cast a weighted treble hook into a packed school of bunker and jerk the line until one is snagged. The hooked and injured bunker is left in the water to attract a striped bass, bluefish, or other target species. An alternate tactic is to retrieve the snagged bunker and rig it on a traditional “J” or circle hook and cast it around the edge of the bunker school where its impaired condition will attract predators looking for an easy meal. Those who want to fill a live well with the bronze beauties should try using a cast net, which, when artfully tossed, can capture a large quantity of uninjured fish. Anglers can also cut bunker into chunks and fish them on the bottom. 

The Atlantic menhaden cleans our turbid waters, provides life-enhancing oils, and attracts sport fish for anglers’ enjoyment. Yet, like the Suffolk County native and departed comedian Rodney Dangerfield, it gets no respect. If New Englanders can call a menhaden a pogie, maybe we East Enders should call it a Rodney. Just seems right.

Local waters are very warm, if not hot, and so is fishing.  

Fluke fishing around Montauk Point is cranking. Frisbees and Midway rips are particularly productive now, reported T.J. at Gone Fishing Marina in Montauk. Some big stripers have been landed but over all striper fishing has moderated as a result of the bunker moving out of Montauk, he added. Sea bass, porgy, and bluefish up to 18 pounds continue to bite aggressively. T.J. noted that offshore action is picking up with one boat returning with an 80-inch bluefin tuna, a 185-pound bigeye, and several yellowfins. A sailfish was sighted by multiple boats not far from the Lighthouse, said T.J., another indication of very warm local waters. 

Fluke, sea bass, and porgy fishing are all strong on the far side of Gardiner’s Island, but fish have moved into water as deep as 80 feet, according to Sebastian Gorgone at Mrs. Sam’s Bait and Tackle in East Hampton. Harvey Bennett at the Tackle Shop in Amagansett reported bass at Georgica Beach and Sammy’s Beach, fluke at Napeague, and hot freshwater action in Montauk’s Fort Pond.  

Weakfish continue their strong showing in the Peconic Bay, though fish 12 to 16 inches are the norm, reported Ken Morse at Tight Lines Tackle in Sag Harbor. Crabbers can find blue claws in the Peconic Bay. Morse recommended crabbing at night and using a flashlight to spot blue claws along the shoreline. No bait needed. Fluke and porgies can be found at Cedar Point, he added.

Peter Honerkamp, a local businessman and former softball great, caught a 30-pound striper at the Sluiceway on a drifted eel while fishing with Capt. Ken Rafferty. It was Honerkamp’s first striped bass. 

The 14th annual Montauk Mercury Grand Slam honoring Jake Nessel of the Ebbtide was held last weekend.

The winners of the recreational division from the boat Jezebel were Jonathan Perkins, Shawn Ackley, Al Williamson, and Jeff Harrison. They received a 150-horsepower Mercury motor, compliments of Dan DeGray and Mercury Marine. Bryan Pieros’s boat Day Tripper came in second and won an 8-horsepower Mercury motor. Isaac Tilstra’s boat the Sarah Rose came in third and received a 5-horsepower Mercury motor.

In the individual angler awards, Sam Doughty won for striped bass with a weight of 44.55 pounds. William Callas won for bluefish with a weight of 14.2 pounds, Jonathan Perkins for fluke with a weight of 9.05 pounds, and Isaac Tilstra for sea bass with a weight of 4.2 pounds.

In the professional division, Capt. Rick Etzel and the Breakaway beat Richie Nessel and the Nasty Ness by less than a point to win the $3,000 cash prize.

Capt. Mike Vegessi and the Lazybones won the party boat division.

All kids that caught a fish were automatically entered in a raffle for a Mercury inflatable with a 2.5-horsepower motor. The winner was William Quackenbush.

The 24th Annual Mako, Thresher, and Tuna Tournament at Star Island Yacht Club and Marina runs next Thursday through July 30. Details can be learned at 631-668-5052.

Wet a hook in the bay and you might find a porgy or other commonly caught fish at the end of your line. But lurking below are visitors from afar, waiting to turn your ordinary day of fishing into a fish story of a lifetime.

Maybe a decade ago, Capt. Ken Rafferty and clients were angling in about four feet of water northwest of the Devon Yacht Club in Gardiner’s Bay when they saw three large shadows a short distance from the boat. Anticipating that these were large striped bass, Captain Rafferty quickly grabbed a wriggling snapper from his live well and rigged it on waiting rod. He directed his customer to fling the bait several feet in front of the cruising fish and wait for a strike. 

One of the fish quickly broke from the pack, inhaled the snapper, and sped west at an oddly quick speed for a striped bass. With line peeling off the reel at an accelerating rate and no chance of stopping the brute by applying additional reel drag, Captain Rafferty started the outboard and pursued the big fish. Moments later the fish leaped high from the water and revealed its true identity. It was a tarpon, a fish more at home in the Florida Keys than in the South Fork. 

Captain Rafferty continued to follow the tarpon, estimated at 80 pounds, as it headed towards a group of young sailors tacking to and fro in front of the yacht club. The stretched fishing line rubbed against the bottom of a boat and broke, simultaneously freeing the tarpon to resume its wild adventure up north and creating an improbable tale for the unlucky angler.

There is no record of a fisherman landing a tarpon with rod and reel in local bays, though one was allegedly caught off Montauk Point by a surfcaster in the late ’90s. But tarpon have appeared in local pound traps over the years. In 1974, Jimmy Lester found a 64-pound tarpon in his Fort Pond Bay nets. A picture of the fish is included in “On the East End,” a memoir by Clarence Hickey, a marine biologist, about his time with the New York Ocean Science Laboratory in Montauk in the early ’70s.

It’s believed that tarpon and other southern species are carried to our shores by the Gulf Stream, a powerful, swift and warm Atlantic Ocean current that originates in the Gulf of Mexico and travels north along the eastern coastline. It’s typically 60 miles wide and moves at about five and a half miles per hour. Some years the Gulf Stream shifts course and comes within a short boat ride of Montauk Point. Some fish riding this magic carpet evidently turn left at the Lighthouse and follow prey into the bay.

Tarpon is not the only unexpected species to swim among us, according to the “Annotated List of Fishes Found in New York Marine Waters,” a document that was maintained by the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation’s Bureau of Marine Fisheries up until 2002. In fact, the list is long and interesting. 

In the early 1900s, a sailfish nabbed here was brought into Orient and a swordfish was caught in Gardiner’s Bay. In 1939 and 1940, bonefish were collected at Orient. In 1972, a goliath grouper was plucked from a Gardiner’s Bay pound trap. A net off Fisher’s Island snagged a northern pike in the ’80s. Cobia, pompano, amberjack, red snapper, king mackerel, flying fish, pilot fish, ladyfish, Coho salmon, Atlantic salmon, and brown trout have all been found in local nets. White sharks, thresher sharks, and blacktip sharks have also been captured in bay traps. Ocean sunfish, perhaps one of the oddest-looking creatures with fins, and large sea turtles have been spotted around Gardiner’s Island in recent years.

The next time you feel a tug at the end of your line think about the possibilities. More likely than not it’s a species you’ve caught many times before, but just maybe it’s a story for the ages waiting to be told.

A 730-pound mako caught by the 42-foot Thor, a local boat, won the 31st annual Star Island Yacht Club Shark Tournament in Montauk last weekend. More than 100 boats participated in the event. A 398-pound thresher and 378-pound mako won second and third places, respectively. The club’s annual fluke tournament is scheduled for July 9 with a captain’s meeting the day before. Information is at starislandyc.com.

The two-day Montauk Marine Basin annual shark tournament, the 46th, begins on Saturday with the captain’s meeting tomorrow. Feeling lucky? There’s still time to enter. Details are available at marinebasin.com. The tournament aids shark research efforts by encouraging anglers to tag and release sharks for study. Tournament organizers and participants donate meat from captured sharks to food pantries. 

Harvey Bennett at the Tackle Shop in Amagansett reported that surfcasters hooked bluefish up to 16 pounds at Napeague beaches in the morning and a 40-inch striper was taken on stubby Hopkins in Amagansett. Lots of bait in the bay and a strong moon bodes well for good bass fishing in the bay, he added.

Paul Apostolides at Paulie’s Tackle in Montauk said that surfcasters are finding lots of bluefish throughout the day, but striped bass remain elusive for all but experienced anglers fishing at night. Boats trolling umbrella rigs off the Point are limiting out quickly, but large fish are still the exception. T.J. at Gone Fishing Marina in Montauk reported that fluke fishing is heating up around Montauk with the north rips and the radar tower the most productive areas for keepers. He added that the porgy bite remains hot with many super-jumbos caught. 

Sebastian Gorgone at Mrs. Sam’s Bait and Tackle in East Hampton reported that keeper bass have been caught at the entrance of Three Mile Harbor on sandworms. Lures that work the bottom should get results, too, he added. Bluefish have returned to Accabonac Harbor and fluke fishing is spotty, Gorgone said.

Ken Morse at Tight Lines Tackle in Sag Harbor reported strong weakfish action in Noyac Bay with fish up to 12 pounds landed. Fluke action in the area is spotty but porgies continue to bite at Cedar Point and west.

The freshwater black bass (largemouth and smallmouth bass) season opened on Saturday. Anglers are now allowed to keep five bass with a minimum size of 12 inches on most waters. Up-to-date New York State fishing regulations are now available on the N.Y. Fishing, Hunting and Wildlife app for smartphones and tablets.

Follow our fishing columnist on Twitter, @ehstarfishing. Photos of prize catches can be emailed to David Kuperschmid at [email protected].

Perhaps during no other time in the history of modern man have so many people from so many countries and territories been on the move to seek new lands in which to live. This is the age of emigration and immigration, born of choice, vocational opportunity, the need to survive, mostly the latter. But it’s not just humans that are on the move. With global warming becoming more and more of a reality, plants and animals of all kinds are extending the ranges, moving from one place to another.

When, a plant or animal spreads into a new area we call it range extension. Perhaps the best example of it in the United States in the 20th and 21st centuries has been the eastward movement of coyotes from west of the Rocky Mountains. Whether they are pure in genetic composition or coywolves, as some back here have turned out to be, it’s been an amazing run. Several thousand years earlier the red fox did the same. They apparently came from Siberia during the Ice Age across Beringia when sea level was very low and North America was still in the grips of a massive glacier, the same one that created the better part of Long Island.

We won’t count the Norway rat, which started out in Eurasia and is now found on every continent and almost every ocean island throughout the world. It didn’t get around entirely on its own doing; it traveled mostly in the hulls of sailing ships. Our own osprey is one of those species that became ubiquitous worldwide using its wings.

Birds, fishes, and marine mammals and reptiles are better at getting around than land mammals, snakes, most reptiles and amphibians. The latter have to navigate rivers, climb mountains, cross deserts, and overcome several other difficult hurdles in order to conquer new territories.

Flying insects can be blown from one continent to another in order to start a new life. Some that are parasitic ride on birds or mammals to establish new territories. The lone star tick is one of those that got here from more southern climes by hitchhiking on another organism, most likely a migratory bird species. It’s been around for less than a half a century, yet in that short time it’s become the most prevalent and widespread of the three major local tick species.

In order for one of these newcomers to establish itself in a new land, a niche has to be available. No problem for southern ticks, almost any mammal or bird will do. For the deer, or black-legged, tick, their favorite niche is the white-footed mouse genus, species of which are found throughout the United States and Canada. The Norway rat, once it got here from across the ocean, didn’t have much of a problem either. It was used to living near humans, whether in the country or in cities. Interestingly, Long Island doesn’t have a native rat of its own, so there was never a problem for the garbage rat in settling down.

On the hand the local white-footed mouse does just as well in houses as the Eurasian house mouse. The latter is now much less common here than it was 50 years ago. When two species compete for the same niche in the same area, invariably one wins out in the long run.

Birds have the easiest time of spreading from one life zone to another. In the last 70 years we’ve seen Long Island populated by southern bird after southern bird. Cardinals, mockingbirds, tufted titmice, Carolina wrens, red-breasted woodpeckers, blue-gray gnatcatchers, boat-tailed grackles, and even some parrots that have taken to cities are all fairly recent residents. Niches with wild and domestic fruit have been available for cardinals and mockingbirds, and there is almost never a shortage of insects around for the others, except in the winter, when feeders with seeds and other edibles help them through.

Among the higher plants, the family with the most species is one that includes dandelions, asters, goldenrods, and hundreds of other genera, almost all of which produce seeds with feathery appendages that allow them to waft through the air mile after mile in a brisk wind. Several grasses, say, the bluestems and broom­sedges, also have seeds with feathery appendages that scatter in the wind.

Plants that produce edible berries are transported by the birds that eat them and then defecate the hard indigestible seeds here and there. That is precisely why the black cherry is so prevalent throughout the Northeast. There is hardly a wood or old field on Long Island that doesn’t have several of them.

One of the most cunning propagators of all belongs to a diverse group collectively know as tumbleweeds. One of these is our own purple lovegrass, Eragrostis spectabilis. It fruits in the late summer and early fall when southwesterly and westerly winds are still prevalent. The entire plant breaks off at the root and rolls down a road or through open fields, pushed by the slightest of breezes. It’s become more and more common locally and has become one of the prevalent grasses on the Sunrise Highway median in the new millennium.

With the inroads made by new species from the south and west, and those brought by humans, either accidentally or on purpose, over the past two centuries, local habitat types or “plant associations” are in trouble. Every year a newcomer such as mile-a-minute vine or giant hogweed arrives and begins to establish itself as the new kid on the block, some more readily than others. It seems that the dandelion has been here forever, but mugwort, garlic mustard, common St. John’s wort, and a host of others are more recent. They normally begin to our west, then spread eastward, especially accelerated by mowers operated by the state’s Highway Department along major state roads.

The inroads made by such “weeds,” say at the United States Fish and Wildlife Service’s Morton Wildlife Refuge in Noyac, compromise an entire ecotype, producing what modern plant ecologists have termed “novel ecotypes” because they have as many invasive species as native ones.   But some local plant associations have been able to hold their own, especially those dominated by beech trees, pitch pines, and white pines. They are a kind of keystone species. As long as they form healthy long-lived stands and have the appropriate undergrowth species, say as the huckleberries and blueberries found in pitch pine and oak stands, they provide a shield against invasives. But, should one of these keystone-safeguarded associations be attacked by a novel species that is immune to the keystone species protection, anything goes. 

That is precisely what is happening across Long Island’s pine barrens at this time. A novel species, the southern pine borer, has arrived from the south and is desecrating mature pitch pines. A ride along the Sunrise Highway through Southampton and Brookhaven Towns is an ample demonstration of such carnage.

More than 100 years ago, oaks and hickories were the keystone species for most of Long Island’s deciduous forests. That was before gypsy moths were loosed in Massachusetts, where they had been imported and cultivated to produce silk. Every 10 to 20 years since the end of World War II our oaks-and-hickory forests have suffered mightily at the hands of these moths’ larvae. Depending upon the extent of the damage with each new incursion, the forests come back, but less stately in appearance, with fewer white oaks and very few centenarian trees.

As our climate continues to heat up, look for more southern trees — to wit the southern red oaks establishing in Montauk — to set in and more southern birds nesting in them. Change is inevitable!

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

No two springs or summers are the same. June may continue the string of warmest months since records have been kept. It was also dryer than usual. Do high temperatures and droughts go hand in hand? There used to be a local guru I could call for answer that question, but Long Island’s most longstanding and celebrated weatherman, a farmer and resident of Bridgehampton, Richard Hendrickson, is no longer with us, having passed away earlier in the year.

Without a doubt, having just witnessed the fantastic blooming of the mountain laurel in the terminal moraine of Bridgehampton, North Sea, Noyac, and Water Mill, this spring was one of the best for tree and shrub flowering in decades. Beginning with the shads in mid-April, then sequentially the sweet cherries, beach plums, wild cherries, dogwoods, mountain laurels, arrowwoods, elderberries, and, lastly, just beginning, swamp azalea. It’s been a knockout year for the whites, as well as for their sweet aromas. Too bad there are so few honeybees around to take advantage of them. 

The spring birds arrived a bit early this year, probably because of the record warmth in late February and March. It seems that red-breasted male robins were everywhere come April. Then, come May, gray catbirds became the favored ones. In my 70 years living on Long Island I have never seen so many catbirds. Catbirds, brown thrashers, and mockingbirds are all in the same family. They mimic thrushes. They are the “new agers” of the birdsong world; they make it up as they go along, sometimes as with mockingbirds, even on a fully moonlit night.

Pretty much all of the other birds have distinct songs that they repeat while staking out their territories. Unless I use an amplifier, I don’t hear a lot of them and so am dependent upon younger ears to keep me in touch with those males that sing and call in higher ranges. Kate Epstein, who has been hearing the same bird over and over again, both at Albert’s Landing in Amagansett and the end of Mile Hill Road in Northwest Woods, described it to me. She tried playing birdsongs, but could never hit upon the one that went “do re me fa sol la ti do” in an ascending scale.

When I was only 20 and working during the summer of 1954 at the New York State Department of Conservation’s game farm in Ridge, I often heard a song like the one she described. It was coming from a prairie warbler. I emailed back and she searched her birdsongs. “That’s it,” she replied. Victoria Bustamante has been hearing the same series of notes near her house in northeastern Montauk, and she agreed it was a praire warbler.

Jane Ross has been busy over the years tending quite a collection of birdhouses on an old farm by Georgica Pond. Georgica Pond isn’t doing so hot, but Jane’s birdhouses are almost fully occupied. Her bluebirds, which have nested there for five years now, except last year, fledged five young after having had a first set of nestlings fail. “Wiped out by a raccoon,” she guessed. She thinks they may try to raise a second family in the same box.

She put out dishes of mealworms to help them along. She has four boxes of tree swallows, two of which fledged five young, two of which are on their way to fledging. Another box had four dead hatchlings; she thinks a May cold spell might have done them in. Jane also has a pair of house wrens occupying more than a single box and a pair of great crested flycatchers are nesting. They are the species that often adorns their nest holes by hanging a molted snakeskin; it’s thought to ward off potential predators. Then, too, there is a pair of Baltimore orioles nesting somewhere nearby. 

Jane is an international education consultant, of which there are not many. I wonder which she enjoys most, her vocation or her avocation? I would think the latter, inasmuch as she is so good at it and birds are so appreciative of those that look after them.

Following two disastrous years, Joe Giunta reports a good year for bluebirds and tree swallows. It seems that southern flying squirrels, new to the South Fork in the new millennium, have been raiding the boxes, especially those at the East Hampton Airport. Joe has had to move many boxes away from the tree line and altogether abandon a trail at Abraham’s Path. However, this year things have been looking up. As of Monday, 36 bluebirds and 50 tree swallows have fledged. If things continue as they are going, Joe, who has been tending bluebird trails along with his volunteers for nearly 20 years now, might end up with 75 fledged bluebirds, which would make this summer a very good year.

Some common birds, however, seem to be in short supply. Carolina wrens are wanting in many areas, such as in Hither Hills Montauk where Jane has had them for several years running. I haven’t been hearing their chatter either. It’s the first time they’ve been silent in my Noyac yard for years. Towhees, ovenbirds, and whippoorwills are in short supply. A few weeks ago on a warm, still night with a full moon, I drove 45 miles of back roads in Bridgehampton, Noyac, North Sea, and Water Mill, stopping to listen for five minutes at 35 different pull-offs. Not a whippoorwill did I hear. I did hear lots of gray tree frogs singing their breeding tremolos from sites that held water and saw the first firefly of the year lighting up along a wooded shoulder.

I’m sure some of you have watched red-winged blackbird males chasing crows. Crows are notorious nestling stealers and have very sneaky ways of going about it. Two crows will approach a nesting area, red-winged blackbirds will chase one away, often for several hundred yards, the remaining crow will swoop in and steal a nestling or two. 

While checking out the magnificent cactus blooms along Long Beach Road in Noyac the other day I observed a fish crow, the smaller relative of our common crow, being chased by two male red-wings. I wonder if the fish crows have learned a thing or two from their bigger brothers since they’ve settled in among them.

No whippoorwills, no bobwhites. What’s happening out there in birdland? I’ve been asking all kinds of people from all parts of eastern Long Island from Montauk to Riverhead the same questions: Any whippoorwills? Any bobwhites? Almost all say no, and often times they qualify their answers with, “I haven’t heard one of those call in 10 years or so.” The senior citizens among us almost all know the bobwhite’s call, as it used to be clarion cry for the Rinso soap commercials on the radios before TV. Rinso seems to have bit the dust as well.

People have been inquiring about deer lately. Many residents have been missing them. This is the first year in the last 10 that my daylilies haven’t been eaten before flowering. However, I notice that some of those near the edges or roads have been plucked off their stems. Last Thursday, coming back from Montauk in the fading light I was delighted to see 27 in the fields along Further Lane in Amagansett, 23 of which were in the big field on the north side of the road formerly known as the Rock Foundation property. Maybe the deer are getting tired of us humans — as I am — and keeping to themselves.

I’ve noticed very few among the road kills I survey in my trips back and forth. Squirrels and opossums continue to top that list.

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

Thursday, June 30

COLLEGIATE BASEBALL, Montauk Mustangs at Riverhead Tomcats, Veterans Memorial Park, 5 p.m.

BEACH VOLLEYBALL, play in triples coed league begins, Kirk Park Beach, Montauk, 6 p.m.

WOMEN’S SLOW-PITCH, Bono Plumbing vs. P.B.A., 6:45 p.m., and Schenck Fuels vs. Groundworks, 8, Terry King ball field, Abraham’s Path, Amagansett.

MEN’S SLOW-PITCH, Liars vs. Montauk Rugby Club, 7 p.m., and O’Murphy’s vs. Coast Guard, 8:15, Hank Zebrowski field, Edgemere Road, Montauk.

Friday, July 1

ULTIMATE, pickup games, Herrick Park, East Hampton, 7-10 p.m.

Saturday, July 2

COLLEGIATE BASEBALL, Sag Harbor Whalers vs. Montauk Mustangs, Montauk School, 5 p.m.

Sunday, July 3

RUNNING, Firecracker 8K and 3-mile walk, benefit Southampton Rotary Club scholarship fund, Agawam Park, Southampton, 8 a.m.

Monday, July 4

COLLEGIATE BASEBALL, Shelter Island Bucks vs. Sag Harbor Whalers, Mashashimuet Park, Sag Harbor, 11 a.m.

Tuesday, July 5

WOMEN’S SLOW-PITCH, Bono Plumbing vs. Groundworks, 6:45 p.m., and Schenck Fuels vs. P.B.A., 8, Terry King ball field, Abraham’s Path, Amagansett.

COLLEGIATE BASEBALL, Montauk Mustangs at North Fork Ospreys, Cochran Park, Peconic, 7 p.m.

MEN’S SLOW-PITCH, Montauk Plumbing and Heating vs. Mickey’s Carting, 7 p.m., and Raptors vs. Uihlein’s, 8:15, Hank Zebrowski field, Edgemere Road, Montauk.

Wednesday, July 6

COLLEGIATE BASEBALL, North Fork Ospreys vs. Montauk Mustangs, Montauk School, 5 p.m.

MEN’S SOCCER, Tortorella Pools vs. F.C. Tuxpan, 6:30 p.m.; Bateman Painting vs. Sag Harbor United, 7:25, and Hampton F.C.-Bill Miller vs. Maidstone Market, 8:20, Herrick Park, East Hampton.

MEN’S SLOW-PITCH, Brewery vs. Gig Shack, 7 p.m., and Raptors vs. Coast Guard, 8:15, Hank Zebrowski field, Edgemere Road, Montauk.

Mary Lee is a 16-foot, 3,456-pound great white shark. She’s about the size of a Honda Accord, or an Audi A5, for those who favor European rides. Mary Lee was captured, satellite tagged, and released on Sept. 17, 2012, in the waters surrounding Cape Cod by OCEARCH, a marine research organization that focuses on keystone marine species including great whites. 

While Mary Lee might not be the star of Discovery Channel’s Shark Week, she’s quite a celebrity. She has her own Facebook page with nearly 63,000 likes and a Twitter page with 98,000 followers. She’s an oceanic Kardashian. Like many celebrities, she has visited the East End. On May 12 of this year, Mary Lee surfaced a couple miles off East Hampton beaches before heading south along the East Coast.  

Mary Lee certainly has a little rolling stone in her. Since she was tagged in 2012, she has traveled more than 34,000 miles, including a visit to Bermuda. She has ranged as far north as Massachusetts and as far south as Florida. She last surfaced on June 20 near the Pelagic Sargassum Habitat Restricted Area off the coast of Georgia. Will Mary Lee return to local waters? Possibly. She likely will begin heading north sometime soon, though whether or not she hits the Hamptons again this summer is anyone’s guess.

While the thought of Mary Lee frolicking close to shore might be unsettling to some, the risk to swimmers and surfers is miniscule. The International Shark Attack File reported that there were only 59 unprovoked shark attacks and one resulting fatality in the United States in 2015. For comparison purposes, there are some 1.5 million deer-vehicle collisions each year, killing about 130 to 200 people, according to the United States Department of Transportation. That’s right, deer are more dangerous than sharks. Even cows kill more people than sharks, about 20 per year, according to the Centers for Disease Control. Mr. Spielberg, how about a scary cows flick in 2017? It has been 41 years since “Jaws.” 

Hollywood films and a long list of television shows have done a great job conditioning the public to fear sharks. But if screenwriters really want to scare people, maybe they should focus on the eight-inch blue ring octopus, which has venom 1,000 times more powerful than cyanide, or the chironex, a beautiful box jellyfish that kills more people than sharks, crocodiles, and snakes combined in Australia. What about the stonefish, the most venomous fish in the sea? 

Very little is known about a great white shark’s mating habits, including the number of pups in a litter and how often they reproduce. A live birth has never been recorded. Scientists believe female great whites don’t sexually mature until 16 years old. After mating, the female develops several eggs, which hatch in her womb. Research suggests that newly hatched pups feed in utero on unfertilized and fertilized eggs, making Cain and Abel look like BFFs (that’s best friends forever, old folks) compared to great white shark siblings. Great whites are estimated to live 30 to 40 years, though a 2014 study by scientists at the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution indicates that the sharks can live more than 70 years. Great whites are currently protected under several federal laws, regulations, and management efforts. 

Elias, a 6.75-foot, 100-pound smooth hammerhead shark, was captured, tagged, and released on July 19, 2015, off of Montauk. His satellite tag last pinged a location south of Long Island on Sept. 16, 2015. A few weeks earlier he had surfaced inland west of Fort Pond Bay. Elias’s present location is unknown. Perhaps his tag was dislodged or he met an unfortunate end. The ocean can be a cruel place, even for a hammerhead shark. 

One can follow Mary Lee’s travels and those of other sharks tagged by OCEARCH at ocearch.org. 

Black sea bass season is now open. The size limit is 15 inches and the possession limit is three fish for the period between June 27 through Aug. 31. The possession limit increases to eight fish from Sept. 1 through Oct. 31 and 10 fish from Nov. 1 through Dec. 31. Local waters are packed with sea bass, according to all reports, but, with many thieving shorts and porgies in the mix, be sure to bring lots of bait.

Schools of stripers just shy of the 28-inch size limit have entered the bay. They have been caught in the Race and Plum Gut on bucktails and eels, on the flats by fly-fishing clients of Capt. Merritt White, and in Kelly Lester’s pound nets. Sand eels are in thick and bluefish are gorging themselves at Bostwick Point and outside Accabonac Harbor. If you just want to have fun with the bluefish rather than keep some for dinner, use an Atom plug with a single hook. Maybe even crush the barb for an easy and safe release.

Harvey Bennett at the Tackle Shop in Amagansett reported that porgy fishing remains strong everywhere and that blowfish, a.k.a. bottlefish, can be caught from the pier in scenic Navy Road Park in Montauk. He added that Brendan Fennel landed a 42-pound striper at the South Ferry slip on North Haven on a live bunker and that an 8.5-pound fluke was caught off Napeague. 

Ken Morse at Tight Lines Tackle in Sag Harbor reported that fluke fishing is spotty but some anglers have had success in deeper water east of the Ruins. Weakfish continue to cooperate in Noyac Bay. 

Sebastian Gorgone at Mrs. Sam’s Bait and Tackle in East Hampton reported that umbrella rigs with rubber shad are the hot item for stripers at the Race and fluke are biting outside the entrance of Three Mile Harbor.

Paul Apostolides at Paulie’s Tackle in Montauk reported that bluefish continue to dominate the Montauk Point surfcasting action, with some small bass grabbing a hook now and then. Boats are having better success with larger bass, particularly those fishing the rips early morning or at night. He said fluke and cod fishing are strong south of the Point. 

The 46th annual Montauk Marine Basin shark tag tournament took place last weekend with 350 anglers participating. Capt. Rob Aaronson of the charter boat Oh Brother won the categories of largest overall and first-place thresher with a 278.4-pound catch. The first-place mako prize was awarded to George Limosani Jr. from the boat Golden Rod with a mako weighing in at 236.8 pounds. James Gravel Jr. from the boat Taylor May won first place in the blue shark category with a 252.8-pound shark.

The Star Island Yacht Club and Marina’s third annual fluke tournament is on July 9. 

Our fishing columnist can be found on Twitter, at @ehstarfishing. Photos of prize catches can be emailed to David Kuperschmid at [email protected]

We are well into summer. It’s been warm, almost hot. The worst is yet to come. We’ve had just enough rain to make the oaks, hickories, maples, sassafras, and the rest of our native trees as lush as lush can be. I’ve been giving them all a 10 as I drive past and through them, which is unprecedented, but I may becoming dotty or too sentimental.

The South Fork of Long Island has just about every kind of ecological assemblage found in all the rest of the Mid-Atlantic States, but in miniaturized form. Then, too, it has a bunch of new-ish novel ecotypes, mixtures of native and alien species, the latter often outnumbering the former. My yard in Noyac is a good example of this.

I used to weed out the foreign flora, but they came back faster than I could remove them. Now I try to relate to them in a warmer way. Many of them, such as the dense ground cover vinca, are toxic and the deer don’t eat them. With each passing year one or two new ones pop up. Thus far, this year it’s mullein, Verbascum thapsus, with soft furry gray-green leaves and yellow flowers. Where they come from is a mystery; there are none around for hundreds of yards.

The natives are not as accommodating as one might think. The pitch pine-oak forest that mantles the moraine in Southampton and covers much of Wainscott, Northwest Woods, and Napeague in East Hampton Town keeps most of the aliens on the periphery, say, along the edges of roads, but out of the interior. Stephen Hand’s Path in East Hampton is a good example. When you motor past you will see a lot of honeysuckle, bittersweet, and other alien vines, but they rarely penetrate in more than 50 feet, where there is too little light for them to prosper.

The road shoulders of Springs, Bridgehampton, Sagaponack, Tuckahoe, and Amagansett are home to garlic mustard and mugwort, but step inside the woods, and you will find very few of these and usually a nice cover of the natives like lowbush blueberry, huckleberry, and maleberry preempting that territory. Where the deciduous trees have been attacked by gypsy moths and other insects, you will often find the ground beneath them covered with short Pennsylvania sedge and tall pilewort, or fireweed.

Hither Woods in Montauk is almost all deciduous with the exception of the evergreen stands of mountain laurel in Rod’s Valley. Just about every hardwood tree species native to eastern Long Island can be found there. 

After the great conflagration of 1986 when so much of it burned over, it has come back in fine form and is almost standing as tall as it was in the early 1980s. It remained almost tick-free for decades after the fire. Before 1900 it was still mostly grassland, pastureland. As such, as it had been cleared and lumbered during the late 1600s and 1700s to accommodate livestock. But, when grazing ended, the woods returned in original form. A few areas, such as Ram Level, are still in the throes of transition from grassland to woodland, but it won’t be long, barring another fire, before Hither Woods will be 100 percent trees and shrubs.

The Point Woods in Montauk just west of the Lighthouse and Camp Hero and north of the ocean bluffs is another case in point. It is a little richer than Hither Woods in tree species and has some wet spots with aquatic plants, shrubs, and trees, to boot. You will find some unusual native trees here: southern red oak, alternate-leaved dogwood, and basswood among them. It also has more hollies than any other South Fork wood and is reasonably absent of interlopers.

The grasslands north of the Point Woods and east of Lake Montauk were once Long Island’s second largest prairie, second only to the Hempstead Plains in Nassau County. That prairie has been reduced to less than 20 acres by ongoing development, while the Montauk maritime grasslands are growing up into a collage of this and that. Billy Schultz, a fisherman, used to be a Montauk cowboy looking after the cattle grazing there and remembers a time in the early ’50s when he and his partners would purposely drop lighted matches to set the area afire to keep the grasses from being overrun with woods, just as the Montauketts were wont to do 300 years and more earlier.

The Nature Conservancy tried to reintroduce controlled burns in the 1990s, but finally gave up. Maybe the historic method was the best method and we should consider returning the land to the Montauketts so they return it to the way it was prior to settling by white man. Victoria Bustamante lives on the edge of this area and watches it grow up, first into a shrubby savannah with lots of weedy plants, and then into the early stages of becoming a young forest. The other day she heard a bobwhite uttering its song repeatedly. No one I’ve queried during the past five years has heard one; it could be a good sign, or a bad omen.

West of the Point Woods are the Montauk moorlands. They are populated mostly by shrubby species — hollies, arrowwoods, highbush blueberries, chokeberries, elderberries, and Bebb’s willow — along with a few trees, but rarely do any of the trees exceed 20 feet in height. They house a variety of ephemeral wetlands where you can find some rare species such as Christmas fern, Virginia chain fern, Massachusetts fern, and the Arethusa and ragged-fringed orchids. The moorlands and their look-alikes, the shrubby downs, or savanna, between Fort Pond and Lake Montauk were once covered with sandplain gerardias come August. This species, still found here and there in Montauk, has become so rare that it is now on a federal endangered list.

West of Montauk is the Napeague isthmus, which has one of the most interesting plant assemblages on Long Island. First of all it has an orchid species, Platanthera pallidum, which apparently is found only in East Hampton, and another rare species, the curlygrass fern. One hundred years ago it was all dunes, cranberry bogs, and dune slacks, where both cranberries and three species of insectivorous plants grew, as well as two more orchid species. It has been slowly growing up into pitch pines extending themselves from the Amagansett end of the terminal moraine, but also with introduced Japanese black pines, foreign olive shrub species, and the usual weeds, including one of the worst weeds of all, common reed, Phragmites communis, an Old World species that has taken over much of the United States, including Long Island. 

Napeague is also famous for its beach plums, beach heather, and bearberry, what the locals called “deer feed.” They cover most of the dune plain and back dunes. The salt marshes are extensive and the lady slipper orchids not only occupy the piney woods, but also march out onto the dunes, which is unheard of elsewhere in lady-slipper lands. Interestingly, common reed has had a tough time trying to take over the marshes here, perhaps because the Napeague tides keep it at bay.

Napeague also has piping plovers, ospreys, oyster catchers, and willets, and may be the last bastion for a rapidly retreating bird, the whippoorwill. Diane Ryan who lives in Promised Land, part of Napeague, writes that she hears many of them night after night. It’s the kind of habitat they would like, especially because half of Napeague, the old fish factory and a flat dune plain that is unique to New York State, is open. Whippoorwills and their close cousins, the onomatopoeic Chuck-will’s-widows, like to hunt over such lands in the twilight and nest on the ground in brushy spots. The East Hampton and Montauk mainlands have become very noisy at night, while Napeague is relatively quiet and presents little competition to these two night-singing goatsuckers.

Napeague is also home to three unique herptiles, the puffing adder, the Fowler’s toad, and the spotted turtle. The first is known for playing dead after feigning a cobra-like attack. The second lives underground for an entire year without emerging until a torrential rain falls and creates its breeding ponds. The last, becoming rarer and rarer, looks like a painted turtle with its black carapace, but has yellow spots on its scales.

West of Napeague are the morainal woodlands of Amagansett and the double dunes of Amagansett and East Hampton Village. Bluff Road demarcates the seaward edge of the land thousand of years ago. The double dunes are a collection of several waves of dune building that first took over the tops of the old bluff line and then proceeded southward storm after storm into the Atlantic Ocean. Now there are as many as four separate dune ridges north to south, but they have lost their parallel orientation over the years as the wind has scurried them around. Half of them have been built on, thus the community known as Beach Hampton on the east and the Maidstone Club and golf course community on the west. But half of them are still unoccupied and mostly squirreled away as open lands forever thanks to the Nature Conservancy and East Hampton Town and Village. 

Downtown Wainscott is not a sight to behold, but to the south and north of Montauk Highway the woods are pitch pine-oak and used to be home to breeding hermit thrushes, whippoorwills, roughed grouse, bobwhites, and a variety of smaller birds. Now they are overrun with wild turkeys, but not disparagingly.

North of Wainscott is Northwest Woods, which is home to the only native white pine forest on Long Island. It is said that white pine boles from this forest used to be the number-one pick for forming the main masts of British ships during colonial times. Apparently, this forest will be here for years to come, as the majority of saplings are also white pines. Gypsy moths prefer oaks, so, in a way, the caterpillars from these little beasties are protecting the white pines. Indeed, they have taken over much of the Grace Estate and are extending easterly, where they have almost reached the shores Three Mile Harbor.

But beware! The same southern pine beetle that is ravaging the pitch pines in western Southampton Town and elsewhere on Long Island is trying to make inroads east of the Shinnecock Canal. The white pines could be wiped out in a decade once this little monster gets a hold of them. Enjoy them while you can. 

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

Open a fisherman’s tackle box and you’ll see lures of every imaginable color. But what color catches the most fish? 

The first thing every fisherman must understand is that a lure looks different above and below the surface of the water. As the lure descends in the water column, the intensity of its color gradually diminishes. But, importantly, not every color loses its vibrancy at the same rate. This has important implications when considering which color lures should be fished at what depths. 

Visible light comprises seven colors. Remember the ROY-G-BIV cheat for memorizing the colors of the rainbow? An object’s color is determined by which color(s) it reflects and which it absorbs. A lure is perceived as red by both humans and fish because it reflects the red segment of the white light spectrum. The stronger the light source, the more vivid the color and vice versa. Anyone with a light dimmer in their house experiences this daily. 

Well, it turns out that water absorbs light very effectively. At only half an inch below the surface, nearly 25 percent of sunlight is reflected or absorbed. At just three feet below, about 55 percent of the light is lost. At 33-feet below the surface, only 22 percent of the light is available. So no matter what the color, a lure is difficult to see at almost any depth even under perfect conditions. Throw in a cloudy day, rough sea conditions, or dirty water and it quickly gets dark down below. 

As sunlight travels through the water column, its component colors progressively disappear. Red, with the longest wavelength, is absorbed first. In typical conditions, red turns muddy gray at about 17 feet. Orange follows at 24 feet. Yellow is next at 50 feet. Then Green at 85 feet. Indigo follows at 116 feet. Violet remains visible at great depths. 

When choosing a lure color, a fisherman must consider how it will appear at the depth it will be fished rather than how it appears in hand. A fish can only react to a color it can see. 

Your favorite red fluke teaser that kills at 15 feet depth will likely not impress at 30 feet. A white jig with a sexy yellow grub tail might produce bass in the shallow rips around Bostwick Point, but likely won’t get results in the deep, dark water of Plum Gut.  

One would think that a brightly colored lure would work best on a dark night. But the opposite is true. With little light available, colors are indistinguishable. It’s best to cast a black popper to the fish feeding under the Lighthouse. The silhouette of the lure against the relatively brighter night sky will entice fish looking up towards the surface. It’s also a good idea to use black when fishing deep. If you don’t have a dark lure, use one with two contrasting colors to gain visibility. This also is a productive strategy when fishing during the day under thick cloud cover or in dirty water. Try a red/white shallow popper or shallow swimmer on those schools of bluefish around Accabonac Harbor.

If all this color science is too much, then take comfort in the fact that a lure’s action and profile are probably more important than its color. But on a day that fish have lockjaw, knowing which colors shine at which depths can make a difference.

What color catches the most fish? Chartreuse.

Harvey Bennett at the Tackle Shop in Amagansett reported that blues have taken residence at the Point, frustrating surfcasters targeting stripers, which still haven’t shown in numbers. He also said that small fluke are biting outside of Accabonac Harbor. Bluefish continue to feed there as well. Bennett said that the porgy bite remains hot but fish seem to be a little smaller now. He also reported that large striped bass are moving into Gardiner’s Bay, which is typical for this time of year. 

Ken Morse at Tight Lines Tackle in Sag Harbor said that striped bass remain thick in Peconic Bay. He suggested live-lining a bunker for best results. Morse reported that fluking is spotty, with few keepers landed. Porgy fishing remains strong in the Peconic and anglers using chum are catching a weakfish here and there too. 

According to T.J. at Gone Fishing Marina in Montauk, fluke fishing is heating up from the rips to the radar station, with one customer bringing in a 9.1-pound fish. Sam Doughty of Springs, a Tackle Shop customer, caught two hefty fluke off the south side of Montauk. One was over eight pounds. 

Sebastian Gorgone at Mrs. Sam’s Bait and Tackle reported great porgy fishing in Gardiner’s Bay and said that party boats from as far away Connecticut are getting in on the action.

This time of year large striped bass take temporary residence in the rip that forms between Bostwick Point at the northern tip of Gardiner’s Island and Gardiner’s Point Island, where the crumbling remains of Fort Tyler, known locally as the Ruins, stands today. 

The history of Fort Tyler is widely known. It was built in 1898 by the Army with a four-gun battery to stop Spanish warships from entering inland New York waterways during the Spanish-American War. Fort Tyler was abandoned in 1928 when shifting sands made it unstable. In 1936 and again in the late 1940s, the fort was used for target practice by bombers stationed on Long Island. The island is now part of the Long Island National Wildlife Refuge system.

The rich local history of Gardiner’s Point Island didn’t start with Fort Tyler. It began in 1851 when the federal government purchased the land from the Gardiner family for $400 for a lighthouse. At that time, the property totaled 14 acres and was still attached to Gardiner’s Island by a narrow spit of sand. The one-and-a-half story stone lighthouse building was completed in 1854 at a total cost of $7,000. The decision to build the lighthouse at the end of a sandy peninsula would prove to be a disastrous one. 

In February 1894, Gardiner’s Lighthouse was toppled by a storm, killing Frank Miller, son of Jonathan Miller, the lighthouse keeper. Its masonry foundation had been undermined by surrounding seas. By that time, storms had punched a hole through the sandy shoal connecting the lighthouse to Gardiner’s Island, creating an exposed Gardiner’s Point Island. 

According to a story published by The New York Times shortly after the tragedy, the lighthouse had been reported as unsafe to authorities in Washington, D.C., by both the elder Miller and his predecessor, who had recently resigned because of his concerns about the building’s deteriorating condition. Government officials had discussed moving or replacing the lighthouse for several years before the accident, but no decision was made. The Times article noted: “Old seamen who are familiar with the situation of the lighthouse do not express any surprise at the collapse of the structure.”

It’s unclear if the submerged rocks that surround the island are remnants of the toppled lighthouse or the fallen walls of Fort Tyler. Regardless, they do provide structure that attracts striped bass and other fish including porgies. There is a small field of boulders east of the Ruins that makes for treacherous navigation but promising fishing. The failure to pay close attention to tide height and current there will result in a dinged prop or hull if not a worse result. Anchoring in the area is restricted due to the concern that unexploded bombs might still rest on the bottom. 

At high tide, drift over the rocks as your boat’s draft allows or work slowly along the edges. Toss a live-lined porgy or eel among the rocks and wait for a striper to strike. Be patient and don’t expect furious action. Anglers can also cast surface plugs and shallow swimmers over the rocks and into the small rips that form there. Keep any eye on your depth finder and the boulders below, which are visible on a sunny day. This is not heels-up relaxing fishing, particularly when charter boats and others are fishing the area. 

If the area is occupied by more than one or two boats, then just motor east towards Bostwick Point and fish the Rip. There, trolling, casting, and live-lining baits can produce bass and bluefish any time of day, though dawn and dusk often are most productive. Once again, keep an eye on the depth finder. It’s no fun pushing a 4,000-pound boat off the sandy shoal. Seen it. Done it.

In local waters, porgies continue to hurl themselves at baited hooks in Cherry Harbor and throughout local bays. Fluke action is hit and miss around Shelter Island, said Ken Morse at Tight Lines Tackle in Sag Harbor. He recommended that anglers change strategies when fish aren’t biting, perhaps substituting a scented Gulp product for a squid strip. Those set on a fluke dinner should focus on Montauk waters where keepers continue to be landed, according to Paulie Apostolides of Paulie’s Tackle in Montauk. 

Anglers are catching keeper striped bass in Plum Gut on bucktail rigs, according to Morse. Stripers are also in the rips around Montauk Point, Apostolides said. He added that large striped bass historically arrive in Montauk around the June new moon. The south-facing ocean beaches have been quiet, though some small bass have been caught around Gurney’s, reported Harvey Bennett at the Tackle Shop in Amagansett. He added that one of his fly-fishing clients spotted shad in the ocean during a morning walk. Three Mile Harbor is holding loads of rat bass, perfect for ultra-light tackle, reported Sebastian Gorgone at Mrs. Sam’s Bait and Tackle in East Hampton. 

The nonstop bluefish catching at Gerard Drive has subsided, though anglers casting tins such as a Crocodile spoon are faring better. Bluefish continue to assault whatever is tossed their way in Montauk.

On the commercial side, Kelly Lester said that the bay is so thick with black sea bass that they are showing up in her conch pots. Unfortunately, this fishery is temporarily closed to commercial fishermen. She added that her poundtraps are swollen with scup but surprisingly no bluefish.