Springtime Shrimping
Stepping off the dock into the boat, I am once again aware of the world of saltwater; as the boat rebounds from my weight, I grip the tiller handle. It’s a familiar feeling, one I have known most of my life. Moving down the bay in a sunny southerly direction, I feel like I am breaking through a veil, leaving behind upland concerns as a crystal-clear world untouched by time spreads out before me. I draw in a deep breath of salty air, the essence of it all overwhelm the senses. A peaceful calm comes over me. On this last day of the year, my mind wandered to memories of that boy still very much alive in me. Forever the student of whatever nature has in store for me on this day. It is always astonishing to witness the abundance of life in the Sea. This gives me cause to think back on all the baymen who took the time to take me along and share what they knew.
And this is why I write.
Shrimping on the Great South Bay
For decades (1920-1970), springtime was shrimp time.
The annual arrival of spring in conjunction with the Vernal Equinox brings warmer water temperatures and longer daylight hours. These occurrences signal the beginning of many migrations. In spring, shrimp begin moving into the shallow water bays of Long Island’s south shore. They enter the bays navigating prehistoric routes held in their DNA. This ancestral migration leads them to fertile spawning fields of underwater eelgrass beds, sand flats, and bog banks where they lay their eggs. They return annually with many other species to reproduce. Countless pelagic predator fish follow and feed on these tiny crustaceans. We, humans, pursue those predator fish – Weakfish, Stripers, Triggerfish, Blackfish, Bluefish, the list goes on. Our pursuit of these pelagic fish as a food source and sport created the need for catching shrimp.
The pinnacle of the shrimp fishing boom took hold during the 1920s & 1930s continuing through the 1960s. During the 1920s, the Weakfish population exploded, particularly in the North East. Weakfish are also known as Seatrout or “Squeteague” to Native Americans. Shrimp and squid are the preferred bait for catching weakfish. Today, sport fishers still prize weakfish fish because of their ability to fight hard. Yet they still required being fought skillfully. A hook could easily pull free from the weak flesh surrounding their mouth, releasing the fish. Large weakfish, up to 20 pounds and 3 feet in length, are known as “Tide Runners” and are especially skillful fighters, many have been lost before the net. Weakfish are also considered excellent table-fare. Peconic Bay, Long Island was the Mecca for shrimp fishing Weakfish. Charter boats as far away as Beach Haven and Forked River, New Jersey, came to Long Island to fish during May and June. Many Long Island anglers pursued them for food and sport. More and more private, rental, and charter boats would follow. Boats fished side by side in channels and near bridges, fishing so close to one another one could almost walk across the water from boat to boat. Competing captains and mates would sleep onboard their vessels overnight, never leaving their favorite spot, worried someone else might move in. Some would tow a small skiff along, enabling them to go ashore for food, drink, bait, and of course to deliver and pick up the “Sports”, people who paid to fish, including anglers like Babe Ruth, Damon Runyon, and Lou Gehrig. Many angling antics that played out by charter boat captains were legendary, at times hilarious, unless you were on the receiving end of their high-jinks. Old-timers told stories of unscrupulous charter boat captains. They would send their mates below deck to pump out a steady stream of shrimp from the head, as they ran across fellow captains’ chum lines, “accidentally, of course,” luring the fish to follow their boat instead.
Shrimp Distributors
Three generations of the Combs family worked together as a team shrimping commercially. Grandfather, Captain Jack Combs, Captain George Combs (Pop), his sons A.J. (Jack) and George Jr. were the major shrimp suppliers for charter boats from New Jersey to New Suffolk Long Island. The Combs family hired up to seven additional baymen hauling shrimp nightly, loading as many as 800 quarts aboard pick-up trucks, they carefully covered the shrimp with wet burlap in trays, then ran them to the Peconic docks before sunrise. Charter captains eagerly awaited their arrival, knowing fresh shrimp was the secret to a successful day. And that’s what the Combs family delivered.
On a May morning in 1933, Pop recalled supplying shrimp to Captain Flory Sarno’s charter boat, the “Seminole”. Aboard that boat sat angler Fred Cozen, unaware that he would break the world record Weakfish later that day. At Tuttle’s General Store and Post Office in New Suffolk, Long Island, the Weakfish weighed in at 17 pounds 3-ounces. It was a big fish and even a bigger deal; news traveled fast, bringing more anglers to Long Island’s Peconic Bays.
Shrimping was big business. Many baymen depended on shrimping to make ends meet. To fish a full tide required a minimum of ten quarts. Fifty cents to a dollar a quart was what shrimp sold for in those days. It was a tidy sum.
In May of 1960, Pop asked me to be part of that catching process. Pop needed help, his sons, Jack and George had been drafted into the U.S. Military. I worked shoulder to shoulder with Pop for years, every opportunity I had outside of school. By then, the weakfish population had diminished, only to be replaced by a new burgeoning Striped Bass population. Fishing for Stripers with shrimp was the same as Weakfishing, but you didn’t need to go to the Peconic Bay to fish. Stripers had begun flooding into Long Island’s south shore bays each spring. It was fabulous fishing, and I grew up on it. I was fortunate to learn from masters like Pop Combs, Frank Roach, and Arthur Seaman.
Arthur once told me of going out fishing when he was young. He rowed his skiff down the bay, first catching enough shrimp for bait, then anchored in Goose Creek, his boat directly next to the renowned charter boat captain, George Pennel. Art said he was so close he could touch the captain’s boat with his rod tip. He also noticed they weren’t catching much. Art kept his back to him, never said a word. To the bewilderment of Captain Pennel and all aboard his boat, Art caught a “good mess” of weakfish in no time. Just like that, Art picked up his anchor and rowed home. There’s far more to shrimp fishing than meets the eye…
The Art of Shrimping
To catch shrimp, you must pull a shrimp seine behind you. The “pulling” is done by hand or with a boat.
In early spring, baymen built and repaired shrimp hauling nets and boats. These shrimp nets were hung around a metal frame, shaped like a rectangle, approximately one foot tall by three feet wide. The netting is woven nylon or cotton 3/16″ mesh fastened to that metal frame, then joined together, creating a four-foot bag at the bottom. The bag has an opening in one corner, allowing the shrimp to spill into a cull box. Four ropes spliced to the frame (two top and two bottom corners) joined to a common line attached to a boat or the person pulling it. A bar fastened to the bottom of the net frame protected it from the seafloor. The seine towed in approximately three feet of water. As the net approaches, crustaceans living on the bottom would jump up, and get caught in the bag. As you move the net along periodically, you lift and empty it into a cull box to separate the shrimp from whatever else was caught in the net from the seafloor. Baymen use this process to catch shrimp commercially.
When hauling a shrimp net, you will encounter many forms of marine life. Including pipefish, seahorse, snails, horseshoe crabs, blue claw, fiddler and green crabs, hackle-heads, toadfish, fluke, flounder eels, and things you can’t imagine, including shrimp. I once found a creature known as a “Ribbonfish,” or a Glass Eel. I had no idea it was a fish at all. It was as thin as a ribbon, ½ inch wide 4 inches long. When I held the flat crystal-clear body up to the light, it revealed a mouth, eye, and entire digestive tract. I was equally amazed when I placed it in the water, and it swam away.
After pouring the contents of the net through various size wire mesh floating cull boxes to remove undesirable marine vegetation, you empty the remaining shrimp into a shrimp car. A shrimp car is a floating box with wire mesh allowing seawater to pass through, keeping the shrimp alive and healthy. Here shrimp would be kept alive until shipment or purchase. Knowledgeable baymen knew how to protect their shrimp catch. If a lightning storm or heavy rain were about to occur, they would sink the shrimp cars under their boat to protect them. Shrimp are delicate creatures and will not tolerate inclement weather or overcrowding in a shrimp car. If you overload, you will lose the entire catch. Baymen and anglers needed to keep shrimp fresh and lively. A dead shrimp is worthless bait.
Rod & Reel
When fishing shrimp, it’s best to have a rod designed just for that purpose. On Long island there were only a few rod builders making proper shrimp fishing rods. The Lott Brothers of Freeport and Lon Wanser of Seaford. Anglers thought so highly of Lon Wanser rods locals named a well-known Weakfish spot after him, calling it “Wanser’s Cut.” Lonny, as he was known, shrimp fished with my grandfather, Harry Kanavy. Despite a long wait, my first proper shrimp rod was one of Lonny’s. Prior, I fished with whatever I could find and repair. Rods built of steel or solid fiberglass. Reels were non-anti-reverse knuckle-busters (a reel with a handle that spun backward when the line ran out, hitting your knuckles.) A bloodied hand meant a good day fishing.
Catching many fish with Lonny’s rod (my Excalibur), I later had one made for my father, Harry, and son John. It was the rod of choice, precisely the right length. You could hold the reel seat in one hand, with your other hand, reach the tip of the rod to pull out the necessary length of line to begin your drift. Many anglers built their own rods, they were made light and short. Some anglers fashioned rods from rattan or bamboo. Delicately hand-wrapped and varnished. Reels were minimalist, many without a drag system. The line was light, linen or Dacron. After all, this was a gentlemen’s sport, giving the fish the most significant advantage while testing the angler’s skill to the max. To land the biggest fish on the lightest tackle was what it was all about. I’m sure this influenced my venture into fly-fishing years down the road.
Shrimp Fishing
After starting a chum line, (a trickle of shrimp drifting back in the tide), predator fish could smell or taste it. They moved toward it and into a depth they were comfortable feeding, determined by water clarity, cloud cover, and tide. Fish would position themselves down tide from the boat. Generally, the fish would stay there as long as fresh shrimp kept coming. However, there were many factors to keep in mind, the fluctuating speed and length of the tide, depth of the water, can’t over-feed, don’t under-feed. You quickly learned that all the variables were constantly in motion. Nothing remained the same for long. Fishing this way required concentration.
The line of choice was a light, six-pound test tied to a single hook, no leader. Slide on a shrimp or two covering the hook, pull out ten feet of line, then send it down tide, in the direction of the fish. Fishing this way is challenging, and it requires focus. Many times fish would swipe your shrimp without you knowing. But it was an instant success when it all came together, and there was nothing else like it. The touch was so sensitive you could feel a fish bump the shrimp with his nose. Get ready, then “Bang!” fish on! The fish hit hard and fast on these lite rods. If you could hold on to them, you were in for a battle. Often nearly spooling the reel before you could turn his head and begin to gain line. The fish were not exceedingly large, but neither was your gear. There was always that twenty-pound Striper or big Tog or Triggerfish lurking around to keep it all extremely unpredictable and exciting.
I still enjoy fishing this way today and enjoy recalling the details to anyone genuinely interested. While there are not the numbers of fish or shrimp around today, it is still a worthwhile venture into the sport of angling; it is the purest form of fishing I know.