Scup

Even though I will be seventy this year, I can still remember my first tog trip very clearly that happened when I fourteen years old. What jogged my memory was the post concerning the methods of how to trip an anchor for use in a rock piles.
My father had went fishing the week before with an associate, another New York cab driver (Julius Manhind). They rented a plywood boat out of Sheepshead Bay from a boat livery called Bays End. They caught like crazy at the Rockaway Jetty. After the trip, Pop purchased a six horsepower stripped down Elgin outboard from Sears. The following week, armed with a couple of tog rigs and dozen surf clams we headed out. It was my job to open the smelly clams. There must have been one or two bad ones in the lot as the meat looked blue and they stunk to high heaven. Before we even got to the jetty I became green about the gills. Never even knew what sea sickness was, but I found out about it that day. When we arrive at the jetty, we dropped a bottom rigged tripped anchor. The rental livery tripped all their anchors this way to prevent loss. As soon as my rig hit bottom, I landed a five pound tog. Pop already had landed big tog in the boat. Before my second drop hit bottom I was heaving over the side. Pop caught another tog but must have been watching me and he joined me as well. He had left his line out while he was finishing up his final wrenching heaves over the side. Now for Pop, getting sea sick was a dangerous proposition. He had a full set of store bought teeth, that were loose fitting at best. There was serious concern that the bridge work, uppers and lowers, could end going over the side, so pop removed them and put them safely in his back pocket. When he finished his over-the-side business, he sat back down on the hard wooden thwart very hard. He let out a scream in pain, apparently he sat down on his bridgework. Since both of us were now sicker than dogs, and had more than enough fish for a couple of meals, we decided to head in. This is where the problems really began. When Pop tried to reel in his line, it had become tangled with the anchor line. Pop was not about to fool around untangling his line, he just pulled hard and it broke off at the gunnel. When I tried to pull the anchor up, it would come up somewhat but it seemed to get heavier and heavier the further it came up. I noticed the warning sign on the jetty "Danger do not anchor, Cable Area". Even though one might trip an anchor, if it is caught on a cable it will not trip. No matter what the angle of attack is, the anchor will simply rotate about the cable preventing you from busting the trip line. Well Pop simply did not want to lose his rental deposit, so after pulling and puking for fifteen more minutes he came up with this idea. It was not a rough day, but there were very large, but gentle swells, rolling in. Pop's idea was to for both of us to pull in as much rode as possible during a lull part of a swell, then tie off the rode to the thwart and let the rising swell do the work for us. Remember, I was only fourteen at the time and this was my first outing. It seemed like a good idea. Well we got the most of the rode in, and tied off to the thwart, and waited for the rising swell to do its thing. The swell came up, but the boat stayed down. I saw the ocean come to within an inch of the top of the gunnel, and thought for sure we were going in. Then a miracle happened, the swell ripped the thwart right out of the boat as we popped back to the surface. That snap provided by the thwart flying out of the boat also freed the anchor from the jetty's power cable. We got back the thwart and the anchor. When I pulled in the anchor line I did not notice Pop's broken line still tangled with the rode with the free end still over the side. Pop started the outboard to head home, when the anchor rode suddenly flew out of the boat and I heard the engine suddenly scream upward in RPM as its shear pin let go. The fishing line had snagged the prop, and then the prop simply pulled the heavier anchor rode right out of the boat till it met with the prop. We had spare shear pins and tools, but the prospect of changing the shear pin out in swells when you are sicker than a dog was nothing to look forward to. Pop was doing the repairs, while I became nervous as we were drifting into the steamship channels. I suggested to Pop that maybe we should drop anchor again as we were really getting pretty far out. Pop replied he would rather die than put that dam anchor out again. Well, we finally got the outboard running again and made it back to the livery with anchor and thwart. That evening, when Pop and Ma were in their room I heard Ma say through their closed door, "how could a full grown man bite himself in his own ass".

JackC

That is a great story....keep it up

Jack

gypsymanii

That is a great story Scup. I had a similar situation when I was young.
You never forget those good times, That is the great thing most people
dont understand about fishing those memories are priceless. Keep cathcing those togs and leave some for us.

Andy

Great story Scup love the part about the dentures

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ChuckA

Great story Scup. And you're still on the salt Most people would of said that was enough for me .I'm sure since then there are a few more hair raising memories