It’s 7 a.m., mid-November, the first maliciously frigid morning of our season. We cleared the breakwalls just after sunrise and made six miles of ice with the bow en route to our present location in 90 feet of water a few miles south of Newport, R.I.
It’s not enough that the useless Norway maple looks as if it’s going to fold with the next 55-knot gust and climb aboard the second floor of the house. There’s also the whole matter of, you know, the boat — the boat every molecule of soft tissue inside your skull told you to haul before this weather went south — swinging and creaking and flexing wildly under two sets of dock lines some 30 miles deeper into the wind field, along the coast.
A seasoned striper man’s new book shines light on a darker side of the black market bass fishery off Montauk, N.Y. I’ve worked with Jeff Nichols off and on for a bit over two months as of this writing, helping to edit his forthcoming book, “Caught,” primarily with an eye for the fishing content, which is the bulk of it.
Friends and I for years have jokingly referred to those who’ve chosen to grind our living out of the sea as “misfit toys,” a square-peg navy on a round-hole ocean. In my own career arrangement as a writer-fisherman, I have spent literally thousands of hours on a multitude of charterboats across a significant stretch of the Atlantic Seaboard to gather supporting evidence.
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Tim Coleman died May 3, in Weekapaug, R.I., doing what he loved to do best at that time of year: scouting the salt ponds and outer beaches for spring striped bass. He was an exceptional saltwater angler and a prolific writer. Thousands of readers lost an advocate and authentic storyteller for fishing in the Northeast, and anyone fortunate to have known Tim lost a good friend.