I am currently reading a book, "Seashore Chronicles: Three Centuries of the Virginia Barrier Islands," edited by Brookes Miles Barnes and Barry R. Truitt.

I first met Barry way back when the Assateague Mobile Surf Fishermen held a surf-fishing show in Ocean City, Md. Barry came up to me at the Fishermen Magazine booth and asked if I would like to go surf fishing on Hog Island to prove that the Nature Conservatory, which he worked for, was not prohibiting people from visiting the islands they had recently taken control of. I jumped at the opportunity.

We made plans to fish for red drum during the spring run. When those plans came together, I ended up driving down to Accomack County, where I spent the night in a nice motel, then early the next morning, I met Barry at the boat ramp in Quimby.

Barry knew the channels out to Hog Island like the back of his hand. We soon ran up behind the island and pulled the boat up above the high-tide line. We began to unload the tackle and other supplies when I realized I had brought way too much. It was a good mile walk to where Barry wanted to fish, so I left some of my artificial lures and other unnecessary equipment in the boat. All I carried were hooks, sinkers, bait and water.

We walked down to a nice piece of structure that was built up much like Henlopen Point and set up shop. I don’t remember exactly what each of us caught except we didn’t get any red drum. We did get some black drum that Barry promised to a neighbor.

Since both of us were already carrying our maximum load, the addition of a few 30-pound black drum was not going to work. Barry decided he would return to the boat, bring it around to our position and run it up close to the beach along the lee side of the point. This he did, and while he held it in close to the beach, I loaded the boat with all of our gear and the black drum.

The next day, having proved the red drum had not arrived, we changed our tactics to flounder. Under Barry’s guidance, I quicky had a limit in the cooler. I was more than happy to head home with a fine catch of Virginia flounder.

On another memorable trip, I went with Pete Barrett, Jerry Gomber and my late brother Bill Burnley for some surf fishing on Hog Island. By now, I had fished here several times and knew the area pretty well. That was not the case for my friends from New Jersey.  

When you depart Quimby, the channel takes a dogleg off to starboard and if you are not aware of this, you will see the channel marker straight ahead and run aground. That’s exactly what Jerry did.

After we pulled him off the mud flat, we all headed to Hog Island, where we had some success with red drum.

On the run back to Quimby, my brother Bill managed to fall out of the boat he and Jerry were in, and since he was still wearing waders, he was sinking pretty fast. I got to him first and tossed him a line that he missed. Then Jerry got to him and passed him an oar that Bill managed to grab, and Jerry pulled my brother into the boat. Believe me, I was greatly relieved.

At this point, we got both boats together and the four of us collected our ourselves. No question, we had averted a serious situation. I didn’t know whether to hug my brother or to slap him. I decided to hug him.

On my next few trips to the barrier islands I was able to stay at Ike’s house. Ike was a watchman for oyster bars leased by the Commonwealth of Virginia to individuals and in danger of poaching by locals without leases.

In addition to fishing the beach at Hog Island for red drum, we also worked the open water for tarpon. I said worked; I didn’t say caught. Barry, I believe, still holds the Virginia state record for tarpon, but since they no longer record weight for tarpon, only releases, I don’t know what that figure would be.

On one trip there, Barry and my son Ric, who was just a young boy at the time, were out fishing for tarpon in the evening while I stayed back at the house to clean up and get ready to depart in the morning. A boat pulled up at the dock with some locals on board. When they saw I was there, they quicky departed.  Some things do not change on the Virginia barrier islands.