Whale Off!

In the late 1940s and early 1950s, fluke, weakfish, sea bass, pollack (pollock), and scup were all abundant. There was a large party boat fishery for weakfish in Peconic Bay, as well as hand haulseining, power seining, and trap fishing from Gin Beach westward.

Photo: Dave Edwardes

Nat Edwards's fish trap, on Gin Beach, would catch enough weakfish in early spring to pay his expenses for all his other gear for the season. In 1952, the bays were chock-a-block with weakfish, mostly small, and when they left that fall, they were totally gone for the next 22 years.

Striped bass and bluefish were few and far between, with generally only a spotty fall fishery. Both these species started showing strongly in the mid-1960s, and, contrary to government claims, have never left since then.

The Montauk charter and head boat fleet was located at Fish Shangri-La in Fort Pond Bay. During the fall season, their dominant catch would be pollack. This is how Pollack Rip got its name. I have seen many catches of 25-30 pollack, with none or just a few large striped bass mixed in.

Occasionally, as I dressed the pollack for the charters on my grandfather's dock, some pollack would have stones in their stomachs. I was told that these fish were taking on ballast before approaching stormy weather.

Prior to 1950, Lake Montauk (Great Pond) was used mostly for storm refuge. The draggers tied up at the Navy dock and No. 2 dock. All other boats moored to stakes south of the Yacht Club and the causeway to Star Island.

My grandparents, Arthur and Eleanor Bengtson, lived in the fishing village. The '38 hurricane ruined their day, as with many others, but it was the Navy who moved everybody out in 1943.

Grandpa Bengtson was a fisherman (swordfishing and hand-lining) and a boat-builder, and he owned the Shell gas station just across the street - northerly from the Blue Marlin restaurant. He owned three boats, and in the late 1940s all three were wrecked, during a southeast gale, while moored south of the causeway. A picture of this storm damage is in Salivar's restaurant.

From three wrecked boats, he salvaged enough to rebuild one boat, named the Judy. This is the boat I fished on with my father, Stuart, brother, Billy, and uncle, Leslie, for several seasons.

In 1950, my grandfather built the first dock for the charter boats. It was just south of Gosman's dock, which was known as the Bonner Oil dock. It had a small shed and finger pier with several oil lines running up the hill to four large oil tanks.

The building for "Bengtson's dock" was built out of redwood from a large water tank which the Navy had built on Star Island. Us kids had to untangle all those boards when Bistrian's crane pulled off the tie rods. At a low tide, we could walk from the dock to Star Island.

During the summer months, most everybody would be hand-lining for sea bass (no rods and reels, they were for the rich folk). Our daily catch would be three or four wooden boxes (400-500 pounds). When you started to catch some large porgies, they would move the boat a few hundred feet to get clear of them. The same with small blue sharks, they were quite troublesome, as they would bite off the body of the sea bass as you hauled in. I was 9 years old at the time.

My very first encounter with a whale was, as they say today, up close and personal. At break of day, in either July or August 1950, we were steaming for the seabass grounds on Frisbies. I was sitting in the swordfish pulpit when out of nowhere, a humpback whale breached right in front of the Judy. To this day, I can still see that huge tail when it smacked the water. The boil the whale made, when it sounded, was larger than the boat. I got soaking wet in the process, but never left the pulpit.

In 1951, fluke were still very plentiful, so much so that several hand haul-seine crews would haul for fluke on Gin Beach. The fluke showed in this area in late summer. All of us kids would fish with whatever crew would take us. Some crews would fish all night, hauling for weakfish. Most everyone shipped their fish from the Edwards Brothers dock at the Promised Land Fish Factory.

Usually, the seine would be set in late afternoon, or just at sundown. The fluke were so thick that they would break water chasing the bait, same as a school of bluefish feeding. At dark, we would listen for a distinct sound of fluke breaking out. A different type of sound would mean daylights, and they wouldn't set the net. Most of the time, the fishermen would wait for a showing before setting. Our job was to measure the smaller fish, and throw back any less than 14 inches. This work was always a big help to whomever we were fishing with. Rarely were any stripers caught.

Nobody owned any four-wheel-drive trucks. The bay rigs were towed by Model A Ford pickups, or Dodge trucks with very wide tires. The Model As were best.

In 1951, there was another individual fishing the same area on Gin Beach. It was a young blue whale, about 40 feet long. The reason fluke fishing was so good was the presence of millions upon millions of fine sand eels. The water would show black with them.

The blue whale would come within a stone's throw from the beach. plowing the sand eels out of the water, much as a farmer's plow turns the soil. The fishermen always had to be alert as to where the whale was before setting the net, as the whale could cause great trouble.

My father had two gill nets, set just east of the jetty over an old shipwreck (so as not to interfere with hauling). The nets were made of linen, and twice the whale went through them. The holes were about 20 feet across. Some days the blue whale would lay offshore, between the bell buoy and inner Shagwong. It stayed in the Gin Beach area for about two months, leaving when the sand eels left in mid-September.

In the 1950s, there was no "plastic fleet" like there is today. If a blue whale, or any whale, tried to set up residence nowadays off Gin Beach, the poor thing would be pestered right to death. In 1951, no one bothered the whale at all.

Stuart B. Vorpahl is a lifelong East Hampton bayman and a five-term East Hampton Town Trustee.