During my childhood, my brother Rick and I took early notice of the fishing boat fleet in Sheepshead Bay. I don't recall the first time we became aware of the colorful, eclectic flotilla of watercraft, but, I sure can recall the day my mother let us go on our first fishing trip on the head boat "Bounty."
In fishing lingo, head boats are also called open or party boats and allow public boardings of passengers that walk up before sailing, as opposed to charter boats, where a certain group of passengers hires the boat out for themselves. Sheepshead Bay is a nicely protected natural harbor situated at the eastern end of Coney Island, just next to Jamaica Bay. The large piers (I believe there are nine in number) have seen a number of changes over the years. Interestingly, a number of old-time party boat names have been passed down from generation to generation, starting back in the first half of the 20th century.
The night before our first trip, Rick and I cleaned and triple-checked our fishing rods; each of us had a Penn Beachmaster conventional reel with patented star-drag, coupled to a stout deep sea boat pole. Rick's reel was filled with Stren 30 lb. monofilament, mine with 20 lb. Jeros Tackle brand mono. In the weeks preceding the trip, we read each and every fishing report in the sports section of the Daily News, and consulted the magazine Long Island Fisherman as if it were some salty gospel.
That night, my mother brewed peppermint tea and sweetened it with honey and we filled our Thermos bottles. She also made fried chicken and carefeully wrapped it in aluminum foil. Satisfied with our preparations, we set our alarm clock late that evening, content in the knowledge that we were ready for anything.
The next morning, on July 18, 1977, our good family friend Jim came down early and picked us up. We chattered endlessly about the voyage we were soon to embark upon. The dawn broke early and the warm sun immediately reassured us that we had selected a day of perfect weather. As we rode in Jim's trusty white Pontiac, we asked Jim every question we could think up about fishing, as he was an avid fisherman, and he regailed us with stories of deep sea fishing and cathing a mess of porgies and sea bass.
It was still early when we got to the pier. We had not yet selected a boat, but we had time for a snack, so we went to the Dunkin' Donuts which was located at the head of the bay next to the Stella Maris tackle store. We ate donuts and orange juice, and then set out for the piers.
Now, walking down Emmons Avenue for the first time at 6:30 in the morning on a mid-summer day is an interesting experience. Crusty looking men in Helly Hansen slicker pants and plaid shirts shouted at anyone that walked near the boats. Whether they were looking for a boat to board, as we were, or if they were going to work in an office somewhere, they were all beckoned to take a trip on their boat. Each boat mate tried to out-shout the other, and the competition was fierce but good natured. Each crew touted their own vessel to be the "first boat out to the grounds," or else they advertised the fact that they had the latest in fishfinding electronics. The men clamored like talkers at a Coney Island side show.
We walked past a number of piers, just reading the names of the bows of the boats, looking for one that stood out for one reason or another. The boats' names are legion among the fishermen of Brooklyn: Betty W ll, Tampa Vl, Rainbow, Hi-Hook, Parable, Rocket, Chief, America, Pilot ll, Sea Wolf...the list went on. The boats were assorted shapes and sizes, some old WWll era conversions from subchasers and other small patrol craft, others were more modern steel cruisers that looked like they were made more for speed than catching fish. Each boat looked inviting. Then we came upon the 85' boat "Bounty." The mate sized us up for a minute, waved us over with a folded up paper bag, then made his pitch about free tackle and bait, free rod rental, restrooms (what, some boats DIDN'T have toilets, we wondered?), etc., etc. The boat looked rugged and ready, and next thing we knew we were stepping across her rail.
We immediately found a good-looking spot about mid way down along her port side, right next to the cabin, and set up our rods. We knew by the nod of the boat as she lay at the pier in the light waves coming from across the bay, that she was the best boat of the fleet. There was no doubt that we were in for the adventure we would not soon forget.
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