Article by Capt. Franky Pettolina
A light drizzle was sort of hindering my air show fun. Well not really. I was drinking a beer in some soft, misting rain with some good friends. The cockpit of the A Salt Weapon 3 was serving as our backdrop for viewing the 2020 OC Airshow. The beer was cold, there were snacks, Steel Panther was playing on the cockpit stereo speakers, and the pilots were expertly buzzing our outriggers at regular intervals. The seagulls were even starting to mimic the jets by flying in formation overhead during any lulls in the action. Even though rough seas had canceled our fishing plans for the day we were making the most of the situation.
Normally the OC Air Show takes place in the spring. 2020 doing what 2020 does forced that to change. Instead we were watching the aeronautic acrobatics during the latter half of August. Different, but acceptable. The schedule change hit home when Sarah and Abby, two of Ocean City Fishing Center’s incredible dockhands, stopped by to say their seasonal farewells as they would be leaving to go back to college in a few days. Another summer has flown by. My regular readers will recognize that a few more marbles have left my jar.
Saying goodbye to Sarah and Abby and wishing them many fine adventures in college made me think back to the years when I would be back in my dorm room at Ursinus College at the end of August instead of in the canyons chasing white marlin. Or in the cockpit of a boat looking at airplanes. Anxiously awaiting the evening phone call from my father to give me the fishing report.
“Franky, you won’t believe this. There was a half sunken sailboat out there with bigeye tuna stacked up all over it!” My dad exclaimed into the phone.
“Wow Dad! That’s awesome. How many did you catch?” I interrupted, while dragging the phone and tangled cord into the corner of my room so that the party, err I mean studying going on in the common area of Suite 109 in Reimert Hall wouldn’t be noticeable on the other end of the call.
“That isn’t the part you won’t believe.”
“What do you mean?” This time I waited for an explanation rather than making further interruption. My interest was piqued.
“We were all working together making passes on the sailboat. PK was behind us on the Elixir. I guess we got a little out of sync and our bridge pole Green Machine drug over his bow. It looped and bounced over the bow rail and splashed down on the other side…”
“You’re right... I don’t believe it!” I said, interrupting again.
“Would you please let me finish! When the Green Machine hit the water a white piled on it! I had to back down all through the fleet while everybody was catching Tunas!”
I can remember Dad telling me this story like it was yesterday. Not 1992. I can picture this happening even though I wasn’t there. In my mind’s eye I see Captain Pat Kelly cussing Dad while the lure dragged across the 45 Viking’s bow, only to end up having to bend off hard to avoid a jumping marlin. The Coastal Fisherman clipping of the pile of bigeye on the dock and the guy holding a white marlin release pennant is still in our album. To be fair I should mention that these were mostly juvenile to small bigeyes. People thought they were yellowfins at first.
So many years ago.
Then yesterday afternoon as I was packing up and heading home from the Last Call, I stopped behind the Spring Mix II to chat with Ayrton “Crouton” Pryor. He is getting ready to head off and begin his post high school learning career at the prestigious Landing School of Yacht Design and Boat Building up in Arundel, Maine. I am very excited for him, but that didn’t stop me from giving him some ribbing. I told him I couldn’t wait for him to leave, just so I could send him pics of all of the marlin flags flying from the riggers the day after he is gone. Cracking the books while we are backing down and clipping leaders. He is an upbeat young man, and he took my wisecracking in stride.
Again I drifted back in my fishing memories.
Dinner was done and I was watching TV in the living room. The house phone rang and Dad hollered that it was for me. “Trick Dave is on the phone!”
I was one week into my junior year at West Deptford High School. My tan from living at the beach was starting to fade, and I was focusing in on my studies (or whatever it was I did when I was a junior in high school- I studied hard right Mom and Dad?) I wonder what it could be that my best buddy from the beach, Trick Dave, could want?
I picked up the phone. “Trick! Whatcha doin?”
“I fished on the pink boat today with Smut.” Trick was referring to the Muff Diver, the charter boat that was in the slip adjacent to the Last Call back in the days when we were tied up at Bahia Marina. Joe Riley, who owned the boat at the time, was lovingly nicknamed “Smut.” He is still labeled as such in my cell phone today.
Knowing that he would not have called unless the news was big, I cautiously replied “Whachu catch?”
“Seven and a Blue.”
I darn near dropped the phone. I knew he meant seven white marlin and a blue marlin. While that would be considered a good catch by today’s (or really any day’s) standards, in the 1989 season it was almost unheard of. Whether it had to do with population cycles, overkill, under technique, or whatever, we just didn’t have the great numbers of billfish catches that we have consistently seen through the 2000’s back in the mid to late 80’s. To put it in perspective, my season long total of the summer of 1989 on the Last Call was six white marlin and one blue marlin. Hence the phone call. Trick was bustin’ my chops. Boys will be boys.
I offered my congratulations while silently seething with envy. Sure I was happy for Dave, but my best trip ever at that point was three white marlin in a single day. Envy is probably putting it mildly…
There is more of the summer of 2020 behind us than in front of us. No matter how much this year has been a bummer, I still hate to see another summer almost gone. But I guess Sarah and Abby will be having fun in college and Crouton will be taking his next step towards a bright future. I hope the marlins and tunas keep biting. I might just have to make some phone calls to rub it in….§
