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New England Regional Fishing with Tim Coleman | Soundings Online Column

This October blitz has nothing to do with football

October - the heart of the so-called 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.



Sure, I’ll take a kid fishing, but this time it’s my kid

Zach HarveyEvery April, each red-blooded outdoors-oriented magazine feels compelled to tackle the “Take A Kid Fishing” topic in time for an entire nation’s opening day rituals. I have put in enough time myself editing various fishing magazines to understand that it’s a classic of the fish-writing genre.



A 10-year obsession with catching cow bass

Zach HarveyA 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.

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A good charter captain can be a tricky catch

Zach HarveyFriends 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.



A picture and the thousand words it summoned

Zach HarveyThe cold, hard facts of the case made mine a difficult position to defend. It happened thus.

When my wife entered the living room I was yelling at the back cover of a magazine. She asked what was going on, a look of minor concern on her face, at which point I flipped the magazine over, revealing — this is where I blew any chance I might have had of mounting a rational defense — a boat advertisement. Not a fiery op-ed, not a back-page column laden with typos that tend to send me into orbit, not one of my own pieces edited badly or run with the wrong byline. An ad.



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Tim Coleman

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.


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