Joshua Slocum: Lost At Sea
His interests were narrow but deep—deep as the deep blue sea. Joshua Slocum was born to a sea-faring life in 1844, “on a cold spot on coldest North Mountain on a cold February 20,” back when ships were wood and men were iron. His granddaddy was an American Quaker, a...
Chasing the Silver Ghost
There are many places to chase tarpon—Mexico’s Yucatan Peninsula and Ascension Bay, the Caribbean, Belize and various jungle rivers up and down Central America, the lower Gulf and Atlantic coasts, even some rivers in Africa. All encounters with these silver-plated...
Adventures with Jim Belushi
You never know what will happen when hunting and fishing with this comedian and his friends.
The Strangler Came Out Of The Sea
The blue sea was red now . . . and black. Black from the ink of the octopus, red from the blood of the swordfish. When we slipped into the harbor that night, we dropped anchor and secured. I’d been there before. It wasn’t anything to write home about. It was Puerto...
Play Day
Scene: A summer morning, Florida Keys, late July — but the events outlined here could have transpired in August, even September, just as well. We load the cooler with gallons of Gatorade, water and ice, with the reasonable expectation that it will feel downright...
Gloss and Glory
In the 60s it was hip to be bass, and anglers everywhere welcomed a whole new breed of American hero. By 1965, the bassing revolution was at full throttle and re-born bass fishing was rapidly becoming galaxial. It was hip to be bass. Popularity encouraged fraternity...
Caribbean Silvers in Another World
From one world to another in a couple of blinks. The first boat heads out. Native fishermen crowd the beach and watch to see if they make it through. We idle upriver, then circle to wait our turn. Ahead is a quarter mile of choppy, mocha-stained water. Five-foot waves...
A Cat and His Hats
Other hats await, too. Hats I will someday own. I don't read the girly magazines any longer, but I'm still dog-earing and sweating up the catalogs. The boys blew ashore just a little after four. They had started out in the wee hours aboard the Marsh Hen, a 25-footer...
Giant of the South Seas
"Sharks!" I yelled, hauling away for dear life. Time is probably more generous and healing to an angler than to any other individual. The wind, the sun, the open, the colors and smells, the loneliness of the sea or the solitude of the stream work some kind of magic....
Voice of the Outdoors Curt Gowdy
Curt Gowdy left a legacy that will never be equaled. Baseball broadcasts would run spring to fall; football carried from fall to winter and basketball into the spring. But Sunday afternoons from January to March, with snow packed at the foot of millions of doors, part...