Before I started writing for Street Sense, I grew up on the Jersey Shore.
No matter what I went through in life, whether I was successful or had nothing, the one thing I seem to maintain was a love of fishing.
The best memories I have in life are my fish stories.
I learned to fish from my father, who was a country boy from Ohio and who had the pleasure of living on the Muskingum River, a large tributary that flows down to the Ohio River.
I remember the first time my father took me fishing. It was in early spring 1975, I was eight years old, and my dad bought me an old Zebco push button reel and a graphite Garcia rod.
We drove to Point Pleasant, New Jersey to fish the Manasquan River. My father Bishop T. McNeil was a real fisherman. he would dig for worms and clams and wasn’t afraid to wade the frigid New Jersey waters with a seining net to catch minnows.
Back in the 70s, the Jersey Shore could have competed with Florida or the Gulf Coast as one of the prime fisheries in America. There was a time on the Jersey shore when you could cast your line in the water and catch a different species of fish on every cast. Sometimes the fish would be in so thick they called them blitzes, where the bluefish, striped bass, and false Albacore would corral the bait onto the shore and you could just scoop them up. I remember filling up burlap bags of fish and never worrying about food.
The first fish I ever caught was a winter flounder. They are easy fish to catch when they’re in but the trick is they like deep water with flat muddy bottoms. They have small mouths so you have to be still. On light tackle they can give you a tussle. But flounder are some of the best-tasting fish on the planet and you can grill or fry them.
That first fish began my love of fishing. I consider myself a bottom fisherman. While some people love fishing with lures and bobbers, there was something about having a sinker on the bottom of an ocean or lake that fascinates me. There was something about dragging my rod along the bottom feeling something tug, setting the hook, and not knowing what you have.
Don’t get me wrong: Using lures and live bait can be exciting, but I find bottom fishing more enjoyable. Plus, bottom fishing is much more relaxing because you can just put a chunk of bait on, let the line hug the bottom, and read a book or watch a video until something bites.
When I left home, I was lucky to travel the world and managed to fish in Bermuda, the Virgin Islands, and California.
I have caught every fish from bluefin tuna and swordfish, to giant reef sharks.
I loved fishing so much, I even tried working as a commercial fisherman. It didn’t work out so well because I got seasick, plus its dangerous work, some people fell overboard and other ships were lost at sea. I remember a time being off the coast of Maine when a Nor’easter hit. It was awful. I will never forget the howling winds, raindrops that felt like knives and snow. We made it onshore, I got my money and never looked back.
After that, I took a sabbatical from fishing. I found other hobbies such as playing poker and writing and I put fishing on the backburner. However, fishing is like riding a bike.
When the coronavirus struck I was bored out of my mind because I couldn’t work or sell newspapers, so I took up fishing again.
I’d never fished D.C. but I always found the Potomac River interesting because of its creeks and canals. I used to walk the canals and see large splashes. The competitive juices came back and I was back into fishing.
While New Jersey has some great rivers and streams for trout and bass, the Potomac has some giant fish. I was looking for a river monster, so I began watching videos of local fishermen. My two favorites are Catfish and Carp and Chunky Catfish. The competitor in me kept me enthused. I was frustrated, I would either get no bites or catch little eels, but the river monster eluded me. Then I decided to buy live goldfish, and I began catching monsters.
I threw my line in the water and a catfish slammed it. I tugged and the catfished tugged back and started peeling my reel. Then the fish started splashing as she tried to throw the hook.
This went on for about 30 minutes as we both became exhausted. The fish was so big it pulled me and my pole in the river. I’m 53 years old and that fish and I rolled down the hill and I fell in the river trying to drag this beast in.
I got my trophy catfish: a femaile that weighed 31 pounds.
I don’t eat the catfish, I release them. Particularly females, because they lay millions of eggs.
Some fish I will eat on the Virginia side like crappies, bluegills, walleyes, and bass. I would like to catch a snakehead, which are very prized.
I don’t know where I will be right now if there was no place to go fishing.
