Phone:508-495-0248
Phone:508-495-0248

Archives

Living the Dream

September 1, 2013 by Beth Colt

view of Eel Pond Woods Hole

“Wind’s from the North,” my friend Phil admonished, as we got in the boat to go fishing Saturday.  “Don’t expect much.  Fish don’t like that North wind.”

I was expecting nothing — based on years of failed attempts as a kid — but I thought: Who cares?  Day like this on the water?  Heaven with or without fish for dinner.

Now Phil is a pretty accomplished fisherman, and in certain circles he is downright notorious.  Others stalk him with binoculars and generally scratch their heads about how he manages to catch mo’ bigger better than anyone else.  He seems to know where the fish live.  Call it a hunch, a sixth sense or just the Gladwell-ian 10,000 hours, but it’s fair to say fish should tremble when “Betty’s Boys” heads out past the drawbridge.

First stop was the currents of Woods Hole itself and there were others there already.  Phil looked at one group with disdain, casting along shore near Mink Point:  “Won’t get anything in there today,” he chuckled as he dropped his lure and started trolling.  Now he swore me to secrecy so I can not tell you the direction we trolled, what that incredible lure looked like, or which patch of rocks we skirted but in the first FIVE MINUTES, I had a striped bass on the line which, with guidance, I reeled into the boat.  A keeper!

Within a half hour, my son Charlie had hauled in an even bigger one, north of 20 lbs.  Then Phil threw his hands up —  “We’re outta here” — and whisked us west on Vineyard Sound to another one of his secret spots, “between the grey tote and the stairs to nowhere.”  Along the way we passed about 30 other boats casting for false albacore (it’s derby time on Martha’s Vineyard as well); one of them spotted us and followed.

Coming in close to land, Phil cut the engine, his friend Lisa tossed an anchor.  Then he broke out the live eels.  Yes, I said eels, squirming and wiggling all over the place.  Phil deftly hooked several through the head and and started casting.   Genius.   My son Sam landed another bass within a half hour, too small to keep but the fight was worth it and we got a nice picture.

Back in Woods Hole, we hauled our catch across town to weigh in for the Calcutta Fishing Derby sponsored by the Woods Hole Business Association.  We will surely attend the October 14th award ceremony (at the Landfall) to see if we won and claim our free appetizer for entering.  But it’s safe to say we are already winners with our fridge full and our deepening friendship with Phil.

Now this might sound like a great fish tale, but here are a few photos to prove it really happened.  Thanks to Phil Stanton.

Betty's Boys

fishing Cape Cod fishing Cape Cod Beth Colt with striped bass Phil Stanton fishing in the fall on Cape Cod Woods Hole drawbridge Phil Stanton in his boat Fishing off Woods Hole Live Eels from the Eel Pond Phil Stanton

 

 

If you miss the boat, don’t Miss The Boat…

June 12, 2009 by Beth Colt


Any season. Especially summer! You DON’T want to miss that last ferry to the Vineyard.

You find yourself, cold-knuckling it on the last bus down from Boston (or up from NYC). Over the Bourne Bridge, through the rotaries on Route 28. You are glancing nervously at your watch…will I make the boat? You glide into Woods Hole, the distinctive curve of little Harbor and your first glimpse of water to the left. And there she is out on the horizon, your eyes on the prize… Martha’s Vineyard shimmering in the moonlight. You mutter to yourself, damn it that boat better still be there.

And then, the slip is empty! The dock deserted. The ticket window closed and dark. You have joined legions of travelers who over the years have missed the last boat.

So, when you miss the boat…don’t Miss The Boat. Walk 100 yards up Luscombe Ave and ring the doorbell at the Woods Hole Inn. If we have room, we will welcome you with open arms. Relax onto your pillow top mattress and dream about the morning ferry, the early one with your “New York Times” and a hot cup of Joe. The one where the bow of the ferry seems to separate the fog bank and the sleepy gulls drift after you looking for scraps. The one that gets you there with a great night’s sleep behind you.

The Woods Hole Inn. The place to go when you miss the boat.

»