I am sure there are funny stories in every sport, but I wouldn’t know about any other than fishing and hunting. I will save the hunting stories for this fall and just share some of the fishing stories for now.
One of the first stories I heard came from my grandfather and concerned his adventures with the crew he fished with from American Viscose in Marcus Hook, Pa. They would head down to Slaughter Beach after completing the night shift and go out on Delaware Bay with Capt. Green in pursuit of croaker.
During their lunch break, Mr. Bestpitch would sit on the steps between the cockpit and the cabin with his lunch spread out around him. One of the crew, probably Pop, would go in the cabin and pick up Mr. Bestpitch’s Tastycake pie on the way. Mr. Bestpitch was so enthralled by the beautiful bay he never missed the pie until he went to reach for it and it was not there. The list of suspects was pretty small, and sooner or later, the pie reappeared.
Now some people are funny without trying to be. So it is with Herb Gordon. Herb is one of the two best salesmen I have ever known and a great fisherman. However, he does not posses the patience of Job.
As a case in point, I had a single-man charter out one morning and we were hammering the striped bass at the bayside of the Third Island on the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel. I mean every cast was a hookup of 20- to 30-inch fish.
My guy had boxed his limit and no one else was in sight, so I called Herb to join us. He said there were bigger fish at the 12-mile marker. That was generally true, so I asked how many he had. None was his reply. So ended our conservation.
Herb was also a bit outspoken. Such people often make enemies. Herb had a few.
There came a day when most of the fleet was trolling just beyond the Three-Mile-Limit and catching quite a few stripers. The Virginia Marine Resources Enforcement officers ran directly to Herb’s boat and wrote him a ticket. Of course, by the time they had cited Herb, the other boats were well inside the line.
The next year, when Herb took out an ad to promote his charter service, it read, “Capt. Herb Gordon, we catch more fish because we go the extra mile.”
A sort of some things never change story.
I had a VHF radio call from a local Virginia captain asking if I took “colored folks” fishing. Of course I did, and he said he had four that wanted to go the next day. I told them to be at the dock by 6 a.m.
It turned out to be five folks since one guy insisted on bringing his lady friend.
So off we went toward the Fourth Island of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel in hopes of catching some Spanish mackerel. As we passed the marina just up from mine, some idiot in a big boat pulled out in front of me and I had to throw my engine in reverse to keep from hitting him. One of my passengers laid such a cussin’ on the captain it brought tears to my eyes. The captain knew he was well outnumbered and never said a word.
The Spanish mackerel were not home, so we went after croaker, and that seemed to make everyone happy. All except the guy who brought his lady friend. He could not catch anything.
He gave me the rod he was using and complained about the hooks. I baited it up, dropped in over and soon had a double-header of croaker.
The same guy that cussed out the offending captain said to the guy who couldn’t catch a croaker, “You are the most pitiful [expletive] I have ever seen. Have to have a white boy hook your fish.”
Then there was the birthday boy. Two waitresses decided to take a waiter friend fishing for his birthday.
He wanted to catch a cobia, and I had good luck having had six consecutive trips with a cobia in the box.
The problem arose when I went to set the anchor and birthday boy said he gets sick on an anchored boat.
So, it was off to the Concrete Ships and drifting for croaker and trout. We were catching right along when the two ladies asked if they could go swimming. I, being the gentleman that I am, said certainly. Then birthday boy wanted to know if he could go swimming. I said no. I don’t want to see you in a bathing suit.
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Eric Burnley is a Delaware native who has fished and hunted the state from an early age. Since 1978 he has written countless articles about hunting and fishing in Delaware and elsewhere along the Atlantic Coast. He has been the regional editor for several publications and was the founding editor of the Mid-Atlantic Fisherman magazine. Eric is the author of three books: Surf Fishing the Atlantic Coast, The Ultimate Guide to Striped Bass Fishing and Fishing Saltwater Baits. He and his wife Barbara live near Milton, Delaware. Eric can be reached at Eburnle@aol.com.
