After one of the hottest, muggiest Fourths of July on record, we wondered what nature would serve up next. There was no relief the day after. 

My daily noon traffic count from my window overlooking Noyac Road was a record one: 100 vehicles passing in each of two four-minute counts, 1,500 vehicles each hour. In other words, Noyac Road is almost as packed as Montauk Highway these days.

Ironically, perhaps, I saw almost no roadkills in 95 miles of driving between 8 and 10 p.m. while listening in western and central Southampton Town for whippoorwills. On Sunday night Middle Line Highway, which runs along the top of the terminal moraine between North Sea and Sag Harbor and was once the center of whippoorwill-dom, was completely quiet but offered a perfect occasion for assessing the number of new and almost new McMansions with well-lighted driveways, eaves and yards. No whippoorwills but lots of fireflies.

In Riverside, Flanders, Shinnecock Hills, North Sea, and Tuckahoe, during 65 miles of stopping and listening on Saturday night I came across six deer, a skunk (odor), great egret, and snowy egret, but no roadkills, no whips, and lots of fireflies.  

I will survey East Hampton during the coming evenings.

I attended the Army Language School in Monterey after I enlisted in 1958 and while there visited John Steinbeck’s Cannery Row on Monterey Bay several times. Doc was gone and it was quite decrepit but still hanging on. Every time I visit Maria and Bob Valenti at Multi Aquaculture Systems on Cranberry Hole Road it’s a déjà vu all over again — decrepit, also, but quite wonderful. Maria and Bob have been hearing whippoorwills in the early evening when working late.

Dianne Ryan on Shore Road in Promised Land has also been hearing them. On Monday evening Stephanie Krusa called from Navy Road next to Fort Pond Bay in Montauk. She was listening to two, perhaps three, different whippoorwills sounding off. Whippoorwills like it dark and quiet and they avoid celebrities at all costs.

Ospreys, on the other hand, once down to a few pairs in the 1960s, ’70s, and ’80s, continue to make a solid comeback. You’ll be hard pressed to find a pair nesting in a tree as was once the rule. Almost every one is on a utility pole or atop some other structure. One of the most longstanding nests is the one out in the marsh south of Cranberry Hole Road on Napeague. It has been occupied every year since at least before 1983, when I started working for East Hampton Town. I went by it on Monday and there were at least two chicks being tended by one of the adults. 

The nest at the beginning of the entrance to Multi Aquaculture, half a mile to the east, is thriving, with at least two half-grown chicks with mom or pop in attendance. There are two more active ones, I noted in my Napeague excursion — one on the old RCA tower on the north side of Montauk Highway, one on the east side of Napeague Meadow Road. By the way, I have never seen those Napeague wetlands, either salt or fresh, in such good condition. The patch of phragmites east of Napeague Meadow Road, small to begin with, has gotten even smaller over the years.

Victoria Bustamante says that there is a new osprey nest a little east of what used to be Cyril’s, just east of Napeague Harbor Road’s intersection with Montauk Highway. The best news yet, Vicki reports, is that a pair of ospreys is finally nesting back in Montauk, atop one of the poles at the Ground Air Transmitter Receiver (GATR) site off East Lake Drive in Montauk.

There used to be a pair that nested each year on Brushy Island in the northwest corner of Fort Pond after a nest pole was erected in 1987. Not only are the nest and pole gone, but so is Brushy Island, now a subsurface reef of sorts.

You may have read about the cessation of helicopters dropping methoprene in Accabonac Harbor as a result of surveys carried out this summer by the East Hampton Town Trustees that revealed few breeding mosquitoes. Arnold Leo, who lives on Gerard Drive west of the main inlet to Accabonac Harbor, is happy to see the pair back on the nest in the marsh at the top of the harbor. In the 1980s that nest was moved into the center of the marsh from the edge of the woods where it had remained barren for several years. It was immediately occupied, but then abandoned after several successful broods. Arnold thinks it was because of the low-flying vector-control helicopters that used to ply the harbor marshes several times during the summer. Some protesting stopped that practice at the end of 2016, and the nest has been successfully occupied ever since.

Joann Dittmer lives on the west side of Hog Creek’s inlet in Springs. She’s been keeping track of the nest at the foot of one of the two Lion Head ponds there since the nesting pole was first erected in 1995. There have been a few bad situations having to do with storms in the past, and at least one member of the pair is relatively new. This year there are three advanced chicks that will most likely be flying by the end of July.

By the way, driving around the back roads of Southampton and East Hampton in the light of day on Monday was a treasured experience. There were lots and lots of common milkweeds in bloom and a few orange bufferfly milkweeds on the shoulders such as those of Route 114 that were not there previously. The lush green of the overstory composed of white pines, oaks, hickories and the like in Northwest is a pleasant relief from the dominant browns of the dying and dead pitch pines of winter and spring.

Shore Road on Lazy Point was particularly lush and colorful. I stopped at Dianne and Gordan Ryan’s house when I saw Dianne there tending to her beach dune garden. It’s a wonderful little eden at the edge of healthy pitch pines, with just about every herb blooming and beach plums and blueberries ripening. The garden was an assortment of wildflowers and those from horticulture such as Deptford pink and three kinds of sedum. Dianne was deadheading some of the flowering plants and removing ragweed whenever she came upon it.

A few doors down to the east, prickly pear cactuses were blooming. I thought that after we are all gone as a result of our bad acting and poor choice of political leaders, those plants would survive wonderfully, native and foreign, living together, and, maybe, even aware of each other’s colorful blooms and fragrances. How could a place with such a name as “Promised Land” be anything but promising!

Larry Penny can be reached via email at [email protected].

No doubt about it, it was hot and humid last week. Nobody needed to hear it formally from a weatherman, or from Capt. Obvious for that matter. Hot is just hot. Just poking your head outside the house was enough for many people, before tightly closing the door to stay cool in air-conditioned comfort. 

On some days, unless you went out at the crack of dawn, it was even too hot to fish for any length of time, as little wind could be found on many of those heavy, hazy, sultry days. Needless to say, those who love to sail had it particularly tough.

On Fourth of July, I endured the obscene weather while on the ferry to New London for a trip to Boston. Climbing the stairs to the top aft deck of the ship looking for more of a breeze, I was immediately reminded of my charcoal grill when I sear a burger or steak. Waves of heat could be seen shimmering over the steel deck in the midday sun. 

It was sizzling. 

I have heard people use the analogy that it is hot enough to fry an egg on a sidewalk. I’ve never tried that, but if I had a dozen eggs with me on that voyage, I know I could have served up a pretty mean omelette to my fellow passengers. 

Looking back, I remind myself that our family did not have air-conditioning growing up in Sag Harbor. If you were hot, you went for a dip in the water in front of the house. I barely remember us even having a fan. Yet we all seemed to survive just fine. In retrospect, I’m not sure how we did it, as the temperature at bedtime would still be 90 degrees upstairs in one of the second-floor bedrooms. Now that’s toasty by just about any standard. 

Were we tougher back then? I’d like to say yes, but I’m not sure. More than anything, we just didn’t know any other way. You dealt with it; complaining got you nowhere. However, today, I’m grateful we have a good air-conditioning system in our house. I guess I can admit I’ve softened up a bit. And that’s okay with me this summer. 

No pun intended, but as the air temperatures significantly warmed our bay and ocean waters, the fishing scene heated up too. Before the oven-like blast, bay temperatures hovered around 67 degrees. A week later they zoomed to near the 80-degree mark. A huge jump. Looking at my record log, we usually don’t see the 80-degree mark until late August. Temperatures on the ocean also saw a 10-degree upward spike.

“I’m getting more and more reports of thresher sharks close to the ocean beach,” said Harvey Bennett of the Tackle Shop in Amagansett, in his best impersonation of Captain Quint from “Jaws.” “Lots of bunker close to shore, so there is plenty of bait in the water.” He added that the bunker schools continue to keep a good supply of large striped bass well fed in the area between White Sands and Main Beach. “Early morning and evening has proved to be the best time if you want to connect with a large linesider,” he noted. 

As for other species: “Fluke are still good off Napeague Harbor and tons of porgies are around in the usual spots,” he said. “People are even getting squid at night at the Navy dock in Fort Pond Bay in Montauk, along with porgies and blowfish during the day.” Bennett added that the Ruins at the northern tip of Gardiner’s Island continues to produce well for striped bass and that some bonito have shown up near Hicks Island. 

As a reminder, Bennett continues to seek new and used baseball equipment to send to underprivileged youth in the Dominican Republic. If it’s not too hot, check up in your attic for that old glove, ball, or bat.

Out at Montauk, striped bass fishing remains strong with plenty of fish up to 50 pounds being landed on the troll or live bait. Fluke fishing has been steady when no ocean swells are present, while porgy and sea bass remain consistent from the Montauk Lighthouse to Block Island. The warming waters farther offshore have also made for good action with sharks (when stronger winds allowed for a better drift), with blue, mako, and thresher being the predominant catch. 

Tuna are here too. After celebrating the July Fourth holiday, Larry Byrne took his two brothers, Pat and Chris, and some other friends on the family boat Pilar out of Star Island Marina for a long-range trip. Trolling 100-miles offshore at Atlantis Canyon, they quickly hooked up with three bigeye tunas at the same time. “One broke off the spreader bar and swam off, while another slipped off the line,” recalled Byrne. “Pat fought the other fish for over two hours before landing him in the boat.” The combative fish topped the scales at 234 pounds. Numerous tuna dinners are certainly to be enjoyed by all.

The Montauk SurfMasters Spring Shootout tournament ended last weekend, and it was a very tight race at the finish line. Nick Bocchino’s 43.5-pound bass barely bested a 43-pound fish that was landed in the last few hours by Brandon Sausele. Bocchino, ever the sharpie, took third place with a fish of 26 pounds.

Another event, the ever popular Montauk Mercury Grand Slam charity tournament, now in its 18th year, will be held on Saturday and Sunday. Proceeds benefit youth, families, and senior citizens in the East Hampton community. 

It is presented by the Kiwanis Club of East Hampton and the Montauk Friends of Erin. Various prizes and trophies are given for the largest striped bass, sea bass, bluefish, and fluke for recreational, professional, commercial, and party boat divisions. Popular with children, the Wayne Clinch Kids Catch program will offer a new rod and reel and tackle boxes to 10 lucky kids under 13, and all will be entered in a drawing to win a seven-foot inflatable boat with a Mercury outboard motor. 

In addition, at the awards ceremony late Sunday afternoon, John Rade will be honored as the Fishing Legend of the Year. The accolade is well deserved for Rade, a Montauk rod-and-reel legend of unparalleled fishing skill.

Weigh-ins and events for the tournament take place at Uihlein’s Marina on West Lake Drive, and more information can be found at montaukgrandslam.com.

This scribe will be entered in this wonderful event once again. And if you are curious, yes, the boat I am fishing on has air-conditioning in the main cabin. Stay cool. 

We welcome your fishing tips, observations, and photographs at [email protected]. You can find the  “On the Water” column on Twitter at @ehstarfishing.

It took longer than expected, but large striped bass, commonly referred to as cow bass among devoted anglers, finally showed up in huge numbers on the strawberry full moon last Thursday in Montauk waters. Fish in the 20-to-50-pound range were landed with great regularity and the bite was equally solid, whether you fished during the day or under the bright, moonlit night skies. It did not matter. The fish were there and they were hungry. Good fishing has continued since. And many folks are very happy and relieved.

“The fishing has been really good when the fish finally showed up,” said Capt. Michael Potts of the charter boat Blue Fin IV. “All methods are working to catch them, too. It’s great to see.”

“We had great bass fishing, with most of the fish in the 40-plus-pound range, with the largest weighing in at 48.5 pounds,” said Capt. Ken Hejducek of the charter boat My Joyce II. “It seemed like the early morning or night tides were the best for the bass.”

Prior to the striper invasion, bass fishing in Montauk was a struggle all spring and into the early summer. Where were they? Were they ever coming?

The lackluster fishing frustrated many seasoned captains. While catches west of Montauk excelled in the past two months, the self-proclaimed fishing capital of the world suffered a dire dearth of the highly prized fish.

The day before the jumbo-size linesiders showed up, a close friend of mine joined a group of colleagues for an all-day trip on a charter boat out of the famed port. Several hours of trolling umbrella rigs off Block Island produced four small bass for the six-person crew. Not good by most standards.

Even the other bass, black sea bass, were pretty much nonexistent that day with only a single keeper-size fish landed by the group. Days like that happen, but it also proved the theory that there truly is a big difference between fishing and catching. There are no guarantees when you wet a line. That’s why there are fish markets.

But the striped bass have finally settled into their summertime home off the historic Montauk Lighthouse. A clear sigh of relief could be heard across the various docks in the harbor. Life is good again in Montauk, and the smiles of those who pursue such quarry should continue for the foreseeable future. The striped bass are home again.

Montauk is not the only location populated with big stripers. South-facing ocean beaches from Southampton heading east continue to see solid action that commenced over two weeks ago.

“It has been really crazy around here,” said an overenthused Harvey Bennett, the veteran owner of the Tackle Shop in Amagansett. “There are lots of big striped bass feasting on schools of bunker. Amagansett has been hot with bass up to 45 pounds . . . while a 61-pound fish was taken near Mecox the other day. Amazing.”

Bennett said that the proliferation of the small, oily-fleshed bunker has also lured in a multitude of whales, porpoises, and even a few thresher sharks. “It seems like a repeat of last summer when we had all of these bunker up close to the beach,” he recalled. “I heard a thresher was landed near Maidstone, so we are bound to see some more caught as the waters continue to warm up. Fun times ahead for sure.”

Bennett also said that the fishing on the bay side is equally productive, albeit with smaller fish. “Porgies and blowfish are everywhere, and small stripers and cocktail blues are around big time at Sammy’s Beach and off Accabonac,” he said. “Plus, the fluke fishing has been excellent off of Napeague, too.”

In celebration of summer and the July 4th holiday, Bennett is having a sale on clam rakes, of which he has plenty in stock. Nothing better than some ice-cold littlenecks on the half shell to enjoy on a hot summer day. Don’t forget to buy a clam knife too. 

“Big bass are in the wash off Amagansett,” reported Sebastian Gorgone over at Mrs. Sam’s Bait and Tackle in East Hampton. “And while it is still good, many of the fish have now settled in at Montauk.” Gorgone was also enthused to see that many small bluefish have entered the local waterways on the bay, and that the porgy fishing continues to be intense in many nearby areas.

“With the warming waters, it’s best to focus on areas to the east where the water is cooler,” he suggested. “Fluke have been good off of Napeague and on the eastern side of Gardiner’s Island. And some nice sea bass are in the mix with them.”

“The bass bite at Montauk is fantastic,” repeated Ken Morse of Tight Lines Tackle in Sag Harbor. “Plenty of big fish around.” As for the action closer to home, Morse said that porgy fishing remains good and that the weakfish bite at the Middle Grounds in Little Peconic Bay has been consistent. 

We welcome your fishing tips, observations, and photographs at [email protected]. You can find the “On the Water” column on Twitter at @ehstarfishing.

A new bird showed up in Montauk last week. It was a hummingbird, but not the one common in these parts, the ruby-throated hummingbird. This one had a black head. It turned out to be a black-throated hummingbird, a bird native to the Southwest. It was right at home feeding in the southwestern part of Hither Hills at one of Lois Markle’s hummingbird feeders. It hasn’t been back since.

At times a common bird on eastern Long Island can become a very unusual bird. Jean Held was surprised to see a male white-throated sparrow splashing around in her birdbath in eastern Sag Harbor. White-throated sparrows are common in the late fall, winter, and very early spring but go north to breed in the northern coniferous forest come mid-April. She left to get her camera, but when she got back to the window the bird was gone. 

The intense heat impacts the natural acts of summer. Insects fly less and birds sing less and go around with open beaks to try to keep cool. When it gets as hot as it’s been this week, there is a kind of hibernation that takes place called aestivation. Nature’s land creatures tend to just hang out, flying as little as possible, sitting around, almost as inactive as in hibernation.

The weather people tell us it will be gone by the weekend. If so, we can look forward to the resumption of a spurt of normal activity, perhaps, even catch-up activity. Songbirds will begin their second broods if the conditions are more favorable. Osprey chicks are half grown and will be flapping their wings in earnest by mid-July. Mid-July is also the time when the shorebirds begin arriving back from the tundra. They hang around here with the natives until it starts to get a little cool in September and then they go south.

 It’s been another good year for menhaden and the mature alewives of Big Fresh Pond, having bred in April, are ready to leave their breeding grounds to their scion, which will hang around for a few more months before heading out into North Sea Harbor come September. 

The ranks of black-crowned night herons have been growing around North Sea Harbor in the past several years. Adults and immature night herons perch in the trees along the stream as they did in April, when the breeding migration got underway. They get the alewives coming and going, and going.

Mosquitoes have been kind to us thus far, but after the next rain predicted for the coming weekend, that might change. Butterflies have been scarce. So far I’ve seen a swallowtail or two and several cabbage whites. I can’t remember a bad cabbage white year. Jean Held has some orange milkweed, also called butterfly weed, blooming in her yard. These bloom weeks ahead of the native milkweeds, which are the favorite host plants of monarch butterflies. At this writing, she reported seeing the first one of the year on one of her milkweed blooms. Monarchs might be making a comeback after several record-low breeding years.

Milkweeds, especially the common milkweed with its white blooms, have been increasing their numbers locally during the last couple of years, on road shoulders, in old fields, and in other weedy areas.

The spring wildflowers have blossomed and set fruit. You won’t find a bird’s-foot violet or a lupine in July. Now it is the time of the orange flowers, the tiger lilies and daylilies, and here and there in the woods, the very rare native Turk’s-cap lily. The deer come by my place and eat some of the daylily heads before they bloom, but always leave several for Julie and me to enjoy when they burst open. Maybe they know that we like them and are returning the feelings.

After the spate of orange flowers come the yellow goldenrods, of which there are a lot of native varieties. The first to bloom is the early goldenrod, Solidago juncea, the last is the seaside goldenrod, the one that returning monarchs and butterflies hit on while moving along the coast in September. In the middle of the goldenrod season you might be lucky enough to find a few New England blazing stars and the federally endangered sandplain gerardia, which is barely holding its own in Montauk and a few other grassy spots on Long Island.

The last group of native wildflowers to bloom is the asters, of which we also have many different species. With either blue or white flower clusters, they begin at the end of August and last into November. What I haven’t told you about are the several native members of the orchid family, which start blooming in early summer and are gone by August. However, I’m not at liberty to tell you where they may be found. There is a nasty rumor going around that the deer are eating them all. Not true, but in the past, a lot of them have been wiped out by those who mow the town, county, and state road shoulders.

As soon as this heat exhausts itself, I’ll be out looking around; there is always a surprise or two waiting in the wings. Why don’t you tag along?

Larry Penny can be reached via email at [email protected].

Terry Sullivan called last week from Sag Harbor to tell me that the prickly pear cactus was in bloom along Long Beach Road’s south side. He also mentioned that PSEG has been putting up new utility poles. I’m a stone’s throw away, so I motored over and took a look. Indeed, at least 10 new poles had been erected, each with strange-colored horizontal members on top to which the electrical transmission wires were fastened. 

One of the two osprey nests along the road was active. The most easterly one was quiet. On a return trip ospreys sat on both nests. Hopefully the chicks survived the business of the new pole installations.

Today, I was told that PSEG, on recommendation from the Southampton Town Parks Department, had put a temporary hold on replacing more poles until the ospreys were finished and the young could fly. Southampton Town and the Villages of North Haven and Sag Harbor are hosting a renewable energy event on Saturday afternoon at Long Beach featuring electric cars and other non-carbon-fuel electrical devices, but far removed from the two nests. 

Apparently, almost six years later, PSEG is getting around to using some of the Federal Emergency Management Agency money accrued in the wake of Superstorm Sandy for “hardening” the electrical infrastructure. Ironically, perhaps, if Sag Harbor, North Haven, and Southampton Town have their way, PSEG will be removing said poles in favor of burying those same transmission lines between Noyac and North Haven. 

Revegetation would be part of the overall plan, but after viewing the spectacular yellow prickly pear flowers in bloom, I wonder if such a revegetation plan is warranted. In addition to the prickly pear, there is a host of other native plants along that dune-y stretch, most of which are flowering herbs and grasses, such as American beachgrass, oldfield toadflax, pine-barren sandwort, seaside goldenrod, common milkweed, pinweed, heather, and several natives. Among the native grasses growing there are little bluestem and broomsedge, cordgrass, and saltmarsh hay. Then come the shrubs — the beach plums, Virginia rose, bayberry, and the like — and my favorite plant of all, the hackberry tree, Celtis occidentalis, only one of which still exists there at the edge of the beach parking lot.

Long Beach used to be a narrow isthmus without a road between Noyac and North Haven, and before that, a tombolo, or a spit of land reaching out to the once-inlet from Noyac Bay to Sag Harbor Cove, separating it from the Village of North Haven. Upon his death, Clifford J. Foster left the spit to the Town of Southampton, and a few years back, the beach on Noyac Bay was renamed Foster Memorial Beach in his honor.

The prickly pear cactus, or devil’s tongue, is the only cactus species east of the Mississippi River. It is so scarce in Massachusetts that it is on the state’s endangered list. In Connecticut it is a plant of “special concern.” It ranges here and there throughout Long Island, but mostly sticks to low sandy sites with few trees and enjoys full sun. It ranks among the most beautiful of our wildflowers, but because of its thorny nature it is not widely planted as an ornamental.

The large yellow flowers ultimately become pulpy fruits, somewhat ovoid, and delicious to eat once separated from the spines. The leaf is welded to the stem, forming a flat paddle-shape appendage, and from its tip sprouts the flower, and then the fruit. One of these stem-leaves detached from the root and put into sandy soil with a little moisture takes almost immediately and in a few years becomes a whole patch. The few Native American kitchen middens that I have come across locally, such as one on the edge of Three Mile Harbor, have patches of prickly pear. Apparently, it was cultivated by local Indians. 

I snatched a single prickly pear leaf from Long Beach to take to a show-and-tell party held last summer at the headquarters of the Sag Harbor Historical Society on Main Street, just north of the Whaling Museum. I held it up and asked the audience if they knew what it was. A woman sitting in the front row said right off, “Opuntia humifusa,” uttering the scientific name flawlessly to my complete surprise. She was Sharone Einhorn, an ardent conservationist and a board member of the Friends of the Long Pond Greenbelt.

When Julie and I lived in the foothills of Santa Barbara, Calif., my late mother-in-law, Grace Miglioratti, visited us frequently. When she did, she would walk down to the end of Montrose Place where we lived and snatch some prickly pears from a large opuntia of a different species and prepare them in such a way that they were delicious. She called them “figadins.” Strange name, I thought. That was 47 years ago. It was only yesterday that I looked it up in my Italian dictionary and found “fico d’india” or “fig from India.” Opuntia cacti grow all over the world and apparently someone from a city in Croatia across the Adriatic Sea from Italy gave the prickly pear that name a long time ago. A little further research told me that Opuntia ficus-indica, grown commercially in India, is most likely the origin of the Italian word for the prickly pear.

Someone before the turn of the century thought that the somewhat barren strip of land at Long Beach needed trees and a slew of Japanese pines, Pinus thunbergii, were planted. Hit by coastal storm after storm, in particular, during the last 10 years, these pines have mostly died. The isthmus is slowly returning to its original ecotype. As Karen Blumer, the author of “Long Island Native Plants for Landscaping,” espouses, leave it be and it will achieve its original form in time. No revegetation is needed. 

Larry Penny can be reached via email at [email protected].

Back in March, I set out my lobster traps for the first time in about nine years. With various work commitments behind me, I finally had enough free time to exhume my gear from its extended deep sleep on dry land. 

Dropping my menhaden-baited, weatherworn traps into the icy 42-degree water at one of my old favorite lobster haunts under the curious gaze of about a dozen seals proved to be extremely therapeutic. And according to my logbook, this particular underwater cluster of rubble, rocks, and boulders had produced very well in the past. It felt good to be back.

Hoping for a good haul the following week when I went back to check on them, I also took the time that morning to step back in my aft cockpit to exhale, reflect, and take in just how lucky I was to be in such surroundings under the cold late-winter sunshine. With nary another boat in sight in any direction, it was refreshing and mind-clearing. 

As I’ve stubbornly learned, as one advances in years, one usually gains a greater appreciation of the wonderful fortune we have to be alive and enjoy such simple times. Life seems to chug along faster with each passing year and we rarely take the time to pause and take in the view. In the few months since I first started soaking my traps, I’ve made it a point to savor every moment, no matter how many lobsters are landed.

That said, the catch, which has consisted mainly of nice hard shells, has been pretty good thus far. Despite a downward trend in the local lobster population for the past 15 years or so, I’ve been fortunate to have experienced more than my fair share of lobster dinners. I have also stockpiled several packages of frozen cooked meat that is now in my basement freezer ready to be enjoyed after the season closes in early September. 

In the meantime, I will continue to relish my leisurely cruise to the lobster grounds, about an hour each way, and to share my catch with my friends onshore. Needless to say, it’s easy to accumulate friends when lobster is offered.  

At the Tackle Shop in Amagansett, Harvey Bennett, an avid New York Yankees fan, was thrilled with how well his team has performed this season, despite the squad’s being swept by lowly Tampa over the weekend. Like last year, the veteran tackle proprietor has once again commenced his quest to secure both new and used baseball equipment to send to underprivileged youth in the Dominican Republic.

“I’m on the hunt for just about anything . . . hats, gloves, balls, bats, and uniforms,” he said on Monday morning, which also happened to be his birthday. This winter, Bennett shipped four large containers of baseball equipment to the country. “It was so gratifying to get pictures back from the kids wearing and using the equipment. I hope again we will get a good amount of donations this summer.” Game on.

Beyond the baseball diamond, Bennett remarked that the fishing has been solid. “Bass action along the beaches has been very consistent,” he said. “Porgies are everywhere and big, and a good amount of bluefish have shown up of late. Fluking has been good at Napeague, and don’t forget the freshwater fishing too. Lots of largemouth bass are in Fort Pond in Montauk.”

Over at Tight Lines Tackle in Sag Harbor, Ken Morse spoke wide-eyed of the large striped bass that showed up in the ocean wash near Sagg Main Beach on Friday morning. “Those who were lucky enough to be there said it was the best striped bass fishing they had seen in over 20 years, with numerous fish between 20 and 45 pounds landed.” 

With large schools of menhaden around to feed on, a number of whales have been swimming close to the beach on the prowl for breakfast. “Some of the guys said that they could cast their lures beyond the feeding whales, they were that close,” Morse said. “The pictures I saw were amazing. I wished I was there.” As of Monday morning, the action for the large linesiders was still productive on the local beaches.

On Sunday evening, a similar feeding frenzy was witnessed by Morgan Nixon of East Hampton while at Long Beach on Noyac Bay, where small bluefish ganged up on hordes of blowfish that were pressed up tight against the shoreline trying to avoid being Sunday supper. The only good news for the blowfish was that no whales were around to also partake in the feast. 

At Mrs. Sam’s Bait and Tackle in East Hampton, Sebastian Gorgone was enthused about the blowfish action, too. As the fishing has been good, “I’ve been selling a lot of rigs lately,” he said. “The porgy fishing has been excellent just about everywhere, including Sammy’s Beach, where you can catch fish over two pounds from the shoreline. Also, there are a lot of small bluefish showing up and some big stripers have been taken in Three Mile Harbor.”

Saturday finally witnessed the opening of black sea bass season in New York waters, but the northeast breeze and heavy fog kept many boats tied up to the dock. Fluke fishing too, continues to witness its ups and downs, depending on the weather.

“We were able to get out this weekend and the fishing was decent,” said Kathy Vegessi of the Montauk party boat Lazybones. “A lot of short fluke are around, but the keeper fluke we are seeing are all nice-sized. Some sea bass were also taken on the trips.” The Bones sets sail daily at 8 a.m. and 1 p.m. 

Striped bass fishing at Montauk continues on the upswing and should crest with the full moon tonight. It’s only a matter of time before those jumbo-size stripers down the beach to the west settle into their summertime homes in the rips to the east of the Montauk Lighthouse.

We welcome your fishing tips, observations, and photographs at [email protected]. You can find the “On the Water” column on Twitter at @ehstarfishing.

Last week, other than taking my boat out at 4:30 a.m. on Saturday to for a quick check on my lobster traps (yes, I did capture enough for a dinner or two), I did not pick up a fishing rod. The reason was pretty simple, as I was hanging around the U.S. Open at Shinnecock Hills. 

While Shinnecock has the Atlantic Ocean to the south and Great Peconic Bay to the north, the course itself is pretty dry (notwithstanding the criticism the United States Golf Association took for the crusty greens witnessed by many frustrated players on Saturday afternoon), with only the sixth hole having a small pond on the right side of the fairway. Sadly, I’m pretty familiar with this hole, as I deposited a Titleist ball into that murky body of water last month on media day — one of the many horrible shots I had that fateful afternoon when I gave up keeping score. 

Had I wetted a line in that pond, I’m pretty confident those U.S.G.A. officials would not have appreciated my dunking of a worm or other lure while Phil Mickelson was teeing off. 

That said, I discovered last week, courtesy of the crack U.S.G.A. research team in the media center, that a good number of golfers also like to chill out on a stream, river, lake, bay, or ocean to go fishing. Many find it therapeutic after a round of golf or when their schedule affords them more time away from the course. Jack Nicklaus, Nick Faldo, Paul Azinger, Mark O’Meara, Davis Love III, and Kenny Perry are just a few of the high-profile golfers who have a passion for the sport. I don’t know if Tiger Woods dropped a line off the stern of his mega-yacht when it was docked in Sag Harbor last week, but I do know he has done his fair share of fly-fishing.

Rickie Fowler is another player who likes to fish. Fowler was busy last week. Besides playing at the Open, he also proposed marriage to his girlfriend on an ocean beach in Southampton. His fellow golfer Justin Thomas took a picture of Fowler proposing on his knee in the afternoon sun. I noticed no surf rod in Fowler’s hand, just a diamond ring. She said yes. Smart man, that Fowler. Best to stow the rods away until after the wedding. 

With all the hoopla surrounding the Open now behind us, I look forward to returning to the more leisurely pace of summer and spending a bit more time on my boat. I’m sure that’s the same for some of the professional golfers, who are still likely licking their wounds over their high scores at Shinnecock. Given how bad my golf game has been of late, a little solitude on the water may do me some good. 

At the Tackle Shop on Montauk Highway in Amagansett, the owner, Harvey Bennett, reported that the fishing remains solid. “Sammy’s Beach has a ton of bass and small blues are at Accabonac Harbor,” he said. “On the ocean beaches, some real big striped bass have been taken and at Georgica and near Maidstone. Porgies can be had at the dock in Fort Pond Bay in Montauk and fluke fishing is holding up well near Napeague. Also, don’t forget freshwater! Largemouth bass season is open and people are doing well in Hook Pond and Fort Pond.”

Bennett added that plenty of whales have shown up in recent days in the ocean off Amagansett. “Must be a lot of bait around for them to eat,” he said. 

Fresh off his cruise to France, Spain, and Portugal, Sebastian Gorgone at Mrs. Sam’s Bait and Tackle in East Hampton was glad to be back at his shop. “The cruise was fantastic and I had a great time,” he said. While he did not partake of any fishing overseas, Gorgone remarked that the local fishing action has been productive of late. “Fluking has been red hot at Cedar Point,” he said. “Porgies are going well in Cherry Harbor and some good striped bass action is happening on the beaches.”

“Very big bluefish are at Jessup’s Neck and the striped bass fishing is still good there, but it has started to slow down a bit,” said Ken Morse at Tight Lines Tackle in Sag Harbor. Morse said that porgy fishing remains good and blowfish can still be had from the shoreline at Long Beach. He added that weakfish are at buoy 16 in Noyac Bay, while fluke fishing has been good in the deeper water near Bug Light in Orient. “Big bucktails tipped with Gulp! have been the hot ticket for fluke,” he added.

Out at Montauk, the Star Island Yacht Club held its 32nd annual shark tournament last weekend, and some truly large sharks were landed. The largest mako weighed in at 417 pounds and was taken on the Alexa Ann, while the biggest thresher was a 345-pounder taken by the crew of the Professional Cryer. The top blue shark, at 275 pounds, was caught on the Contender. 

Closer to Montauk Point, fishing has been decent. “Porgies have been the most solid fishery, with excellent fishing for mixed sizes all along the south side,” said Capt. Michael Potts of the Bluefin IV. “The sizes are even better east of the lighthouse when the tide is not running hard. As for stripers, they are there one day and somewhere else the next.”

Anglers are eagerly chomping at the bit for the start of black sea bass season. Starting on Saturday, recreational fishermen can retain three fish over 15 inches per day. However, commercial fishermen have faced a closure that took effect last Thursday and will remain in effect until the end of June. After that, the daily trip is set at 50 pounds and will remain in effect until further notice. 

For commercial porgy fishermen, effective July 1, the daily trip limit for scup is set at 600 pounds, and the trip limit will remain in effect until further notice.

We welcome your fishing tips, observations, and photographs at [email protected]. You can find the “On the Water” column on Twitter at @ehstarfishing.

It’s turtle time. Female diamondback terrapins are coming ashore to lay eggs and female box turtles are walking into people’s yards to dig out a nest and lay their own. June is their month of choice; May is a close runner-up. If not disturbed or discovered by a raccoon, the eggs hatch at the end of August. The little turtles — not much bigger than a quarter but turtles in all other respects — dig themselves out. The baby diamondbacks head for the water, while the baby box turtles head for the nearest woods.

Karen Testa, the executive director of Turtle Rescue of the Hamptons, a 2012 spinoff from the Evenlyn Alexander Wildlife Rescue of the Hamptons, says she is getting 9 or 10 calls a day about turtles in need. During my last call to her facility in Jamesport on the North Fork, she got one of her “turtle-in-trouble” calls and had to break off the conversation to attend to a turtle in distress.

We have several turtles native to Long Island. The box turtle, while it may submerge itself in water to keep cool on the hottest days, is a bona fide terrestrial turtle. The others are aquatic. Of these, the diamondback is the only one that frequents the brackish waters and tributaries of the Peconic Estuary, Long Island Sound, and Great South Bay. The painted, stinkpot, snapping, marsh, and spotted turtles live in freshwater ponds and come on land only once a year to lay eggs. Of these, female snapping turtles make the longest journey, often crossing several roads before finding an appropriate spot for oviposition.

The snapping turtle is the largest of the aquatic turtles, weighing up to 50 pounds. If not handled correctly, it can give a serious bite. The painted turtle is the most common. The mud turtle is the rarest, and the only freshwater turtle on New York State’s endangered list. A few of us turtle lovers have also found the red-bellied turtle here, including a female laying eggs on the old railroad spur west of Long and Crooked Ponds in Bridgehampton. Red-bellieds have also been spotted at Little Northwest Creek in East Hampton and Sag Harbor and the small ponds in Montauk, including Money Pond west of the lighthouse. In turtle field guides this last turtle is listed as one of the rarest in America and is found along the coast from New Jersey south to Virginia, with a small population in coastal Massachusetts.

There are lots of introduced turtles, mainly those traded in pet shops such as the red-eared turtle, perhaps one of the most common ones to be rescued by Karen and her staff. I say rescued, but what that really means is removed unharmed from the ponds where they are found.

On June 10, Vicki Bustamante was on the North Fork cruising the roads between East Marion and Orient Point when she came upon several diamondback terrapins crossing in front of her. She photographed them. A day later, Helen Harrison and her husband, Roy Nicholson, were at the tip of Barcelona and photographed a diamondback climbing up a sandy bluff face well above the lay of the beach. Was this a female who had experienced northeasters and tropical cyclones in the past?

Like me, Alexander Miller, head of the Lionhead Beach Association in Springs west of Hog Creek, studied turtles as a boy, but his were upstate. Ten years ago he moved to Springs and has been keeping track of turtles, primarily box turtles, for the association ever since. He photographs every box turtle he comes upon. He also checks other local roads in Springs and Northwest, and says that the stretch of Three Mile Harbor-Hog Creek Road south of Camp Blue Bay is one of the most dangerous local roads for box turtle crossings. When he finds a road-killed box turtle he photographs its back and its underside; thus he can tell if it is one of those that he previously photographed.

As almost every schoolkid knows, turtles can be very long-lived. Alex has found some in his neighborhood as old as 35 years. John Treadwell Nichols, one of Long Island’s famous early naturalists, painted dates on the plastrons of box turtles living in the Mastic region in the very early 1900s. At least one of his turtles was discovered at the beginning of the 21st century, still alive. Apparently, box turtles rank right up there with parrots, elephants, Galapagos turtles, Greenland sharks, and humans as far as longevity is concerned.

Today’s drivers are often preoccupied with cellphone calls, music, conversation, or other diversions. A box turtle may have beaten a hare in a famous 2,000-year-old Greek race, but it is no match for an automobile. If you see one crossing in front of you, please stop. Other motorists may howl and toot their horns, but the turtle you save may be one of those rare centenarians.

An aside: The Lionhead Beach Association oversees a menagerie of rare animals and their habitats, and goes out of its way to protect them. It watches over not only box turtles but piping plovers, least terns, and an osprey nest that has been used annually ever since the first pole it sat on was erected by the East Hampton Town Natural Resources Department, Group for the South Fork, and the Nature Conservancy in 1995. Politicians run for office, and if elected, spend most of their time inside their offices. Neighbors and neighborhood groups are the real heroes and protectors of wildlife and nature.

Larry Penny can be reached via email at [email protected].

A few weeks ago, I penned a story about two different types of boaters. The premise was that you either preferred to cruise under power or chose the quietness that a sailboat provides. With a few exceptions, it’s pretty black and white on this matter.

Looking back, what I neglected to say was that there was another unique class of vessel owner, an extremely small one that appears to be growing every season and represents the uppermost echelon of the one-percenters.

These are the owners of motor or sailing ships, what’s called the mega or super yachts that are over 80 feet long. These giants of the high seas are in a class of their own. 

The definition of what constitutes a mega-yacht has been modified over the years. While an 80-foot craft is nothing to sneeze at, these ships look like mere dinghies when compared to the supersize vessels that now encroach on our calm waters every summer. 

Growing up in Sag Harbor, a longstanding, deep-water port with roots that started before large whaling ships called her home in the 1820s, I have seen the increase of such steroid-induced ships that now dock or anchor in this historic port of call. Rare was the day — even as recently as 25 years ago — when you would see a vessel over 100 feet. With each passing year, the ships seem to get larger and arrive earlier.

Last Thursday, I needed to fuel up my modest 30-foot Novi. Taking a 10-minute cruise from my marina slip to the yacht club near the entrance to the breakwater, I noticed a rather sizable ship docked near the fueling station. This one was pretty big for this early in the season. 

Curious as to the length and who might be the lucky owner, I did a quick internet search at my helm station. Lo and behold, it belonged to none other than Tiger Woods, the professional golfer. Built in 2003 at his request, the 155-foot ship sleeps up to 12 people and has a crew of nine that has its own separate quarters on board. According to various media reports, it costs approximately $2 million annually to run and maintain. Pretty amazing on so many levels.

But soon, there will be even larger and more luxurious mega-yachts on the scene, some of which are well over 200 feet long. There are even a few ships that are too big and heavy drafted to enter beyond Cedar Point and must remain anchored in the middle of Gardiner’s Bay to ensure they do not bottom out. 

There is a real wow factor with these gleaming ships of steel. Many will have helicopters, cars, motorcycles, boats, and other high-end toys and accouterments aboard that certainly garner a much longer gaze from those ashore. Compared to these super-size cousins, Tiger’s now-impressive vessel will seem scrawny.

The largest private motor yacht in the world is the Azzam, which was constructed in 2013, and measures just a few inches under 600 feet. Think about that for a second. The Intrepid, the famous World War II aircraft carrier that is now berthed as a floating museum on Manhattan’s West Side, is slightly over 800 feet long and housed 2,500 servicemen when it served in battle. It was literally a floating city. However, the Azzam will not hold onto its title for long, as several other ships at present are under construction that will surpass her in length. 

Would I want to own one of these ships? While they’re very cool to look at, the honest answer is no. I like the simplicity of my boat, which is over 15 years old. It’s reliable, comfortable, and I have plenty of room in the stern cockpit to haul my lobster and scallop gear without worrying about inflicting scratches or damage. At this point in its life, it’s like a beat-up car that you love and don’t want to give up. It has character. 

For sure, Tiger’s yacht will never see a scallop dredge on its teak aft deck. But I’m sure the highly trained chef on board can quickly whip up some seared scallops in the galley upon request.

On the fishing scene, striped bass action in the bays continues its torrid pace, with a solid number of large line-siders landed in recent days. 

“The fishing continues to be truly excellent,” said Ken Morse of Tight Lines Tackle on Bay Street in Sag Harbor. “There’s a ton of bunker around and the fish are hungry.” To illustrate, Morse said Kevin Dahler of Sag Harbor landed a 42-pound fish on a bunker chunk. “But other fish are in solid too,” Morse said. “The weakfish action in Noyac Bay and just outside the breakwater has been very productive, while porgy action is excellent in many local spots. And if you want blowfish, just fish off the beach at Long Beach. People are catching as many as they want every day.” 

At the Tackle Shop in Amagansett, the proprietor, Harvey Bennett, was equally enthused about the striped bass action, but the best fishing occurred for those who plied their trade on the ocean beaches. “Tons of stripers are in the wash at Napeague and White Sands,” said the veteran Bonac fisherman. “Sundown has been best, but early morning is just as good on either bucktails or small diamond jigs. Lots of small fish, but there are enough to about 30 inches to keep you on your toes.” 

As for fluke fans, Bennett suggests that Napeague on the bayside is the place to focus on the flatfish, while closer to Accabonac Harbor, those fishing with clams continue to do well with large porgies. He added that the action for walleye and large and smallmouth bass has been excellent in many East End ponds. 

One annoying problem that Bennett noted on the saltwater scene was that a very large population of sea robins have established a firm residence in many areas and have interfered when people are fishing for other species. “The sea robins are everywhere it seems,” he said of the much-maligned fish that are, in fact, quite good to eat. “They have a bad stigma, but people should try them for dinner. They will be surprised how good they are.” 

At Montauk, striped bass action in the rips is slowly getting into gear, as many anglers await the influx of larger fish that should arrive shortly for their summer residency. Porgies have begun to show up near the lighthouse, and many folks continue to eagerly await the opening of black sea bass season in two weeks. As per fluke, the fishing has been up and down. 

“Lately, it’s been quality over quantity,” said Kathy Vegessi, the seasoned shoreside support arm of the Lazybones, a half-day fluke boat out of Montauk. “We’ve seen some really nice fish landed the past few days.” The largest fish to hit the decks was a fine flattie taken by Ryan Williams that weighed in a shade under nine pounds. 

Blue-water enthusiasts are happy that the first shark tournament of the season gets underway this weekend, as the Star Island Yacht Club and Marina will hold its 32nd annual tournament. Participating anglers have a chance to win one or more prizes for several different kinds of sharks. A captains meeting will be held tonight, while actual fishing will take place tomorrow and Saturday. Sharkers will have a second chance to tangle with the species the following weekend as the Montauk Marine Basin conducts its 48th annual shark tag tournament from June 21 through 23, with a total purse of $50,000 that will be broken into various prizes.

No word yet if Tiger will be out looking for a shark.

We welcome your fishing tips, observations, and photographs at [email protected]. You can find the “On the Water” column on Twitter at @ehstar­fishing.

Eastern Long Island owes much of its natural history to the eastern deciduous forest, an ecological life zone that stretches from the grasslands of the Midwest to the Atlantic Coast, from northern Florida into southeastern Canada. Of course, there are huge differences from one part of this forest zone to the next, and from the southern part to the most northern part.

When the Laurentide ice sheet retreated and left Long Island in its wake, there were no humans residing here. Then came a very gradual change, from bare land to a boreal, tundra-like vegetative covering such as we find around the Arctic Circle today. Next, the vegetation progressed to shrubs and small trees — willows, birches, and such — followed by what is popularly called the northern coniferous forest, with hemlocks, larch, and various spruce dominating. Spruce were still extant as late as 1923, when the late naturalist-farmer Roy Latham described a stand of them on the north side of Orient. 

There were hemlocks and several birch species still extant in the early 1900s, but as a result of further warming, they were replaced by oak and hickory woods, followed by pitch pine and hardwoods, covering that part of Long Island now dominated by the Pine Barrens. This succession from one vegetation type to another quite different, and so on and so on, took place over the course of 15,000 years,

The rest of the United States, excepting Alaska and Hawaii, is made up of prairies, deserts, mountains with montane vegetation zones from bottom to top, and a little tropical forest in southern Florida. Then there are a bunch of different wetland types like salt marsh, thule, swamps, bogs and the like, and a variety of ponds and lakes with subaquatic and floating aquatic vegetation.

America’s vegetation types are not unlike those in the rest of the Northern Hemisphere, but in general quite different from those in the Southern Hemisphere, where tropical forests dominate, except in those areas occupied by savanna grasslands and deserts, like the Kalahari Desert in Africa.

Before colonial settlements began sprouting up in the middle 1660s, Long Island had the Pine Barrens, large grasslands such as the Hempstead Plains, brushy savannas, beach and dune vegetation, and a large variety of wetland types — everything from extensive salt marshes to tiny wet depressions dominated by insectivorous plants and cranberries, such as those that still exist on Napeague and in Montauk.

Paleobotanists have studied the changes in vegetation by taking cores from deep boggy kettleholes. The pollen from the deepest part of the cores can be identified to tundra and taiga forest plants, the topmost pollen to the more southern hardwoods and pitch pines.

Take the tupelo, for instance. It is quite common on Long Island in wet areas, but it is the same tupelo species that grows in Tupelo, Miss., known more as the birthplace of Elvis Presley than for its tree species. The southern red oak has established in Montauk, there are a few southern magnolias in Nassau County, persimmons on Gardiner’s Island and in East Hampton’s Northwest, lots of sweet gums (Liquidambar) in Queens and Nassau. As global warming continues, expect that a lot more southern tree species such as live oaks will establish here.

Of course, there are lots of variants of major ecological types. The dwarf pine barrens in Westhampton, off County Road 31 near the airport, are stunted but genetically different versions of normal pitch pines. For the last three years, Victoria Bustamante, a local native-plant grower, has been watching a group of the dwarf kind growing in pots in her greenhouse in Southampton Village. They are definitely much smaller than neighboring normal pitch pines planted from pine nuts in pots at the same time and grown under identical conditions. It may have been these dwarf Westhampton pitch pines that George Washington referred to as “ill-thriven” during his turn-of-the-18th-century trip to Montauk to site the lighthouse.

There is a remnant white pine forest flourishing in Northwest. Indeed, it will probably benefit further from the recent invasion of the southern pine borer beetle, which has killed so many of East Hampton’s pitch pines. When you drive along Bull Path, for example, you see almost no small pitch pines, but an abundance of white pine saplings. The groundwater they root in is an almost constant 55 degrees Fahrenheit. and is evidently substituting for the normal cooler ambient air temperatures in more northern regions where white pines grow in profusion, such as in Maine and northwestern Massachusetts.

Broadly speaking, there are a great many types of plant communities in East Hampton. One community that is also found on Block Island, Nantucket Island, and southeastern Massachusetts and Rhode Island, but is absent from the rest of the United States and Long Island, is “heathland,” dominated by shads, American holly, witch hazel, and shrubs of several different ericaceous species, as well as many different ferns. It is as thick to walk through as any tropical forest I’ve experienced.

There are lots of dune plants and grassland plants, as in the Montauk grasslands east of Lake Montauk, which in the early 1900s covered three-quarters of Montauk, including much of Hither Woods. The federally protected sandplain gerardia, rediscovered growing at Shadmoor in 1982, is just one of many native prairie species found in Montauk, along with the state-protected bushy rockrose, Helianthemum dumosum.

When “The Botany of Montauk” was written by Norman Taylor in 1923, there was only a handful of houses in that hamlet, as well as only a handful of exotic species. Now Montauk has as many Eurasian species as metropolitan New York, so many that the several rare species there are threatened with extinction by competition with the weedy species, including even that horrible invasive vine from Asia, kudzu. Such half-and-half habitats are now called “novel” ecotypes, for want of a more descriptive name.

In summary, the South Fork has several different plant habitats, including white pine forests, pitch pine-oak forests, deciduous hardwood forests, grasslands, shrub-savannas, and dune and beach vegetation zones, as well as a bunch of ecotonal combinations where two or more different types come into contact with each other. In addition, there are at least 10 different wetland vegetation types, including some dominated by myriophyllum and other interlopers, such that they are now in the “novel” ecotype category.

The central pitch pine maritime forest, now mostly protected, in Brookhaven, Riverhead, and western Southampton, is one of the jewels. The same pitch pine maritime forest type, during the last half of the 20th century, has reached the middle of the Napeague isthmus, and even reached the Walking Dunes of extreme western Montauk. Shortly after, the Central Pine Barrens Maritime Forest Preserve was created by an act of the New York State Legislature and signed into law by Gov. Mario Cuomo.

At the beginning of the 21st century there was an effort by the Group for the South Fork and the South Fork Groundwater Task Force to add these eastern South Fork pinelands to the already preserved central area, but the two towns — East Hampton, under the leadership of Supervisor Jay Schneiderman, and Southampton, led by Supervisor Pat Heaney — stifled it. As a result, these eastern pinelands have languished in never-never land ever since. Perhaps it is fitting, then, that the southern pine borer beetle is having the last word.

Larry Penny can be reached via email at [email protected].