I was an avid salt water fisherman. I grew up in the Bronx. My family was best friends with our across the street neighbors, he too loved fishing. They never had children so I guess I was like a son to them. On Saturdays, if the trees weren’t swaying from the wind, we’d go rent a skiff from City Island and hook up a 20hp motor. We’d fish Stepping Stone and Execution Rocks, rarely come home empty and ate what we caught
As I grew, Montauk became my Mecca. I LOVED the scent of the ocean. One of my schoolmates had been shark fishing with Mundas. My wife and I had a summer house on Culloden Shores
Alll the enjoyment ended for me in the mid 80’s.
My wife was pregnant with twins and miscarried one. Shortly after, we were in Montauk in September. I was under the Lighthouse blue fishing. I had a decent one that took a plug like above. As I hauled her up on the shore, it look like she bled silver flakes on the shore. When I looked closer, I noticed she was aborting all her young on the shore, that gutted me.
It affected me so profoundly, all the sport in sport fishing disappeared for me that morning and never returned.
I count on one hand the number of times I’ve been fishing since then. I have a decent collection of Penn rods and reels and three tackle boxes gathering dust