[snafu313]

Like most of you folks, my father got me started fishing. I grew up in North Jersey and we were pretty much your typical bennies. My first trip was when I was 5 years old. A half day fluke trip out of Belmar on what I think I remember as the Big Marie-S. As soon as the boat started sailing, I started crying my eyes out and eventually fell asleep in the cabin. By the end of the afternoon, I woke up and got over my fear in a hurry. We always fished on party boats, like your typical tourist. After that, I remember my first night bluefish trip with my father when I was 9, it was the first time that I was allowed to stay up all night. I remember the school of whiting that decided to show up at the Long Branch Fishing Pier. I remember my father losing his rod and reel to a bonito because he wasn’t paying attention and getting it back 10 minutes later when the same fish came up with the rod and reel still attached. I also remember the stories of tuna and tilefish trips he told and he’d tell me that he’d take me tuna or tilefishing if the tilefish ever came back.
Unfortunately, as my father got older, he fished less and less and if he didn’t go, I didn’t bother going either. When I was in college I met a friend that owned a boat and I would go with him. There I got the bug again. From there it was back to fishing the party boats. I don’t own my own boat and I don’t have the time or the patience for it either.
My father passed away a few years ago and every time I go out, I think of those times and it’s nice to have that connection with him again. Especially when I went on my first tilefish trip this past year. Lets hope that the next generation will be able to enjoy what we love so much.