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New England Regional Fishing with Tim Coleman | Soundings Online Column

There’s no rest for the Ten Percenters

Zach HarveyIf you’ve logged even a modest number of hours kicking around the docks, monkeying around in the basement with terminal tackle or keeping track of who’s been catching what around the marina, you’ve no doubt run across one of fishing’s more widely accepted nuggets of wisdom: “Ten percent of the fishermen catch 90 percent of the fish.”

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Holiday traditions, Mom and the Oyster Trenton Cracker

Oyster Trenton CrackersI don’t remember the oyster stew itself — just the raw materials in the fridge, the sight of Mom leaning over a copper-bottomed pot at the stove, meticulously stirring the milky broth clear of a boil-over, and the smell of savory broth against a crisp olfactory backdrop of fresh-cut balsam or blue spruce from the living room.

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A college boy’s lament on a cold November outing

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.

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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.

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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.

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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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