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Editorial

Doggone? Labs Getting Drafted For Duty

In the aftermath of the TWA explosion, government scientists were asked for a better bomb detection device.

In this age of Internet, laser technology and genetic engineering, the Federal Aeronautics Administration settled on a singular and potentially foolproof anti-terrorism device.

They’re being ordered now — along crates of dog biscuits. For what the FAA is telling the airports of America is get yourself a Labrador retriever.

We don't know enough about explosives to know if they’re right. But we know enough about Labs to worry what this government directive will do to the world's best breed.

A well-known Lab named Max is employed full-time at New Bay Times, sniffing customers and, this season, political candidates. We consulted four or five more Chesapeake labs from selected dog demographic groups. So we are not barking up a tree.

Labs, we were told, crave focused nosework every day: intense sniffing of bushes, lawns, mailboxes and piers. They especially crave the smorgasbord of sensorimotor delights from zooming in the wind in the back of a pick-up or head-hanging from a car. One dog remarked that we humans might liken this experience to a roller coaster ride at the State Fair.

Another Lab wondered if her value would soar with a sudden demand for what she called "airport consultants." We said it might.

But the dogs had questions. Would they would be smelling actual people or just their luggage? Will there be fetching time written into the contracts?

Speaking of contracts, will the Labs be allowed under NLRB rules to form bargaining units to discuss chow grade and cage size? And what about compensation for TAFB — Time Away From Bay?

A chocolate Lab wondered if it were possible that the TWA crash was caused by malfunction of the plane and not terrorism, and therefore whether the FAA was growling about nothing.

We can report to you that they reached consensus. Since Labs love people more than people love each other, they will be happy to help out. They're prepared to report for duty on Monday sniffing gunpowder, plastic explosives and even chemicals that might singe those sophisticated sniffers.

Unless, of course, they already are employed at newspapers

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Letters to the Editor

Good Neighbors

Dear New Bay Times~Weekly:

On Sept. 6,1996, Fran visited Skipper’s Pier Restaurant and Tiki Bar. She arrived early in the morning as her waters rose across Herring Bay and Rockhold Creek. By noon, her surf was breaking into Skipper’s parking lot. By early evening, her winds increased, creating relentless waves of water pounding the Tiki Bar and surrounding docks and decking. By late evening, she reached her full force, lifting decks and send them crashing against the pylons.

On Saturday morning, Fran was gone, but evidence of her visit was all around. The Skipper’s Pier parking lot was full of debris, piled high and blocking all entrance to the restaurant. Water lines were broken, sections of decking missing and four inches of water covered the lower dining room. The Dock Bar, under 18 inches of water, was filled with foul smelling silt and debris.

The damage was not severe but would require a monumental clean-up effort to prepare the restaurant for opening. By 7 Saturday morning, many residents of Deale, including many residents of Drum Point Road and Skipper’s employees, were busily working to help us. By 12:30pm, the parking lot was cleared, the plumbing and decks restored, and the dining room clean. Our doors opened just one and a half hours late.

Since Raye and I took over management of Skipper’s Pier this past July, we have received many warm welcomes from the residence and business people. We have experienced first hand the strong sense of community that makes Southern Maryland a great place to live, raise a family and operate a business. We are very grateful to all our friends, neighbors and employees who helped us get through this crisis.

—John and Raye Price, Deale

Sign Us Up Again

Dear New Bay Times~Weekly:

I want to thank Bill Burton for sponsoring the New Bay Times fishing trip at Harrison's. My son and I both had a good time. We fish a lot but that was our first charter trip. It is nice being pampered for a change. Sign us up for next year’s trip.

Rick and Dan Horne, Severna Park

Why I Liketh New Bay Times

Dear New Bay Times~Weekly:

I liketh New Bay Times for this main reason: since moving to the Annapolis area in 1986, we are amazed at all the local music, theater and arts. At least once a week, we attend a play, club or concert. It’s hard to catch all that is going on here. However, with your New Bay Times, it is a lot easier to find out where and what and when the best entertainment is in this area.

Our daughters attend the Renaissance Festival every year and love it. It is one happening that my husband and I haven’t attended, yet! We hope that we will be hearing from you.

Diane Boozer, Annapolis

Editor’s note: We couldn’t be more pleased to award Diane Boozer a pair of tickets to the Renaissance Festival. Call for instructions on how you, too, can be NBT’s guest at the Festival.

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Burton

Egad!

The World of Fishing’s Becoming a Women’s World

Hey, What's going on in the world of fishing? Is it just me, or are more women getting involved in the sport of catching — or trying to catch — fish?

When out chasing bass the other day, I spied two women on a bassboat at Loch Raven. It was an all-women crew; no men aboard.

Not long ago on the trout stream of the Gunpowder, two lady fly fishermen (I decline to use the words "fisher" or "fisherwomen") were casting woolly worms and bead-head nymphs, without so much as a man around.

Last week when our New Bay Times’ fishing junket sailed out of Harrison's Chesapeake House at Tilghman Island, about a third of those signed on were women, and they caught their share of rockfish. On this side of the Chesapeake, Capt. Freddy Donovan, dockmaster of Rod 'N’ Reel Docks at Chesapeake Beach, says he sees more of the fair sex climbing aboard both headboats and charter craft.

It's the same at Scheible's Fishing Center at Wynne near the mouth of the Potomac: more women fishermen and not all of them attached to a man who ties the knots and puts the bloodworms and messy cut up menhaden on the hooks. The gals do it themselves. Heck, it's less grungy than changing diapers.

The Fishing Burton Women

I have five daughters, a son, and a wife, six of whom are fishermen. You guessed it: my son Joel is the non-fisher, though for a spell he was fascinated by the sport. Wife Lois is a fairly good angler despite her dislike for foul weather and rough waters — and other waters that have snakes swimming around the boat.

Daughter Heather has taken — and released — rockfish better than 40 pounds, and almost as long as she is tall. Her current angling project is teaching her husband of less than a year how to fish for bass.

Now that's a twist. My marriage was more traditional: I taught bass fishing to Lois, though there were a few embarrassing moments like the year she caught the biggest bass a Burton took.

For a wedding present, I gave her a tackle box loaded with lures sent me by manufacturers to field test (I figured many in the box weren't likely to catch anything). The first thing she did was select one that only the maker could like. I chuckled — until...

She flipped it out a few yards to check its action.

There was a loud splash in waters only about a foot deep, and Lois was reeling in a five-pounder. The moral of that experience: "In fishing, never give your wife anything until you've tried it first."

No Gender Bias on Today’s Headboats

Capt. Donovan says he's pleased to see more women going aboard the 60-foot headboat Tom Hooker out of his docks. The same with Capt. Doug Scheible, who sails the headboat Bay King out of Scheible's Fishing Center. Time was — and not too long ago — when headboats were associated with rough and tumble men carting coolers of beer and more potent beverages aboard. Maybe that's why headboats were commonly referred to as "partyboats."

Headboat fishing has changed. Now it's more a family affair, says Capt. Donovan, and he likes it better that way. Less drinking, more fishing, and probably more fun. "Women sometimes call about headboat trips, and admit they're a bit 'antsy' about them. They're not quite sure what to expect fishing among a bunch of men. But one trip puts such skepticism to rest," says Donovan.

The Tom Hooker leaves the docks daily at 8am these days (a respectable time for those who don't go for the traditional sunrise routine) to chum for rockfish, and everyone aboard — including the women — usually head home with their limit of two fish, sometimes in only a few hours.

If one is a bit squeamish about putting a stinky slab of menhaden on the hook, there's usually a man along the rail willing to help — and do so without a smirk on his face. The cost is $30 for the trip, bait included.

Fishing Women of Renown

Women and fishing: talk of such things goes back centuries. There are some who believe that The Compleat Angler, generally attributed to Izaak Walton, was written by a women — and a nun at that. I'm not among the Walton skeptics, though I have known some great women fishermen, some of whom doubled as fishing writers. Among them is Sara Gardner who writes a fine fly fishing column for The Fisherman, a weekly publication, from her headquarters at Pintail Point in Queen Anne’s County.

Then there's the story of Sugar Ferris, indeed an unlikely name for an outdoor writer, but Sugar in the past 20 years has probably done more to promote women in sports fishing than anyone else ever. And it all came about because she caught a pair of small bass.

When Sugar moved back to her home town of Livingston in East Texas, she didn't know anything about outdoor writing, much less bass fishing.

But in need of a job, she noted the classified ad "Outdoor writer needed, no experience necessary." She sheepishly confessed her lack of experience.

The editor shrugged it off, told her all she needed to become an outdoor communicator was experience with the resource. Presto. She started writing for the Polk County Enterprise about outdoor activities thereabouts. Next, she was editor of the Lake Livingston Progress, a job that had her doing everything to promote a resort area.

Laughingly today, she confesses that back in the early '70s she thought a Shimmy Babe was a disco dancer at the local honky-tonk. She learned otherwise fast. Today Ferris is founder and president of Bass'n Gal, which is just what its name implies.

There were snickers at first, but today Bass'n Gal membership is 33,000 in 46 states and still growing. The organization is catching the attention of men on the pro circuit, also sponsors. Sponsors, vital to any sport, see a whole new market developing.

Bass'n Gals didn't come about as quickly as Ferris’ outdoor writing career. First she had to learn how to fish, not just write about it.

She talked a local guide into taking her out on Lake Livingston. "I often wonder what direction my life would have taken if I hadn't caught those two silly bass that day," she told me over the phone from her office in Arlington, Tex. "Soon I was hooked on bass fishing as much as any bass was hooked on what I cast."

Why Fishing Women Are Few

For years, women tried to crack the professional BASS tournament circuit but were rebuffed. President and founder Ray Scott wouldn't hear of it.

Ray, the guru of contemporary pro bass fishing, wasn't against women as such in his tournaments. But there comes the call of nature, a fisherman has to go — if you know what I mean. And there are no heads on open bassboats.

Hey, we don't mind; let them go — and if we have to go, we'll go too, said the women who tried to crack the big money BASS circuit. But, Scott — and many of the fishermen on his tour — said it wasn't that easy.

Professional fishing is a highly competitive sport that requires great concentration. Worrying about the time when one has to go can ruin the concentration, argued Scott.

"Most of my fishermen are country boys, family people who would never think of relieving themselves in an open boat. We use 'direct overboard disposal' and that can make things embarrassing.

"To keep our big money tournaments fair and square, we don't allow boats while in competition to go ashore — not under any circumstances. Some of these boys would worry more about overboard disposal than catching bass. Some simply wouldn't be able to go. And that wouldn't help their fishing.”

So until the '90s, women were barred from the pro BASS tour. Now they're allowed, but few participate. Viola Reed — the wife of prominent pro Charlie Reed of Broken Bow, Okla. — was among the pioneer women when the ban was lifted, and in a couple of tournaments she did quite well, once topping her husband's catch. But we're getting ahead of ourselves.

A Tournament of Their Own

While attending the American Fishing Manufacturer's Association Trade Show in Dallas in 1976, practically on the spur of the moment, Sugar Ferris announced she was founding a national women's fishing organization, Bass'n Gal.

Her new group was not a protest against BASS and other men's fishing organizations; just a group of women anglers with their own tournaments. The rest is history. Bass'n Gal entry fees are $250; the average payout is $54,000 with the winner taking home $20,000.

Bass'n Gal has its own attractive publication, a network of local chapters somewhat along the lines of BASS, and the opportunity to turn pro. Interested ladies can write Bass'n Gal, PO Box 13925, Arlington, TX 76013.

Becoming an Outdoors Woman

For other women interested in the outdoors, DNR sponsors its second Becoming and Outdoors Woman Workshop Nov. 1 through 3 at Catoctin Mountain National Park near Frederick. Last year's edition was an outstanding success.

The Maryland affair is part of a national program to teach skills for hunting, fishing and other outdoor activities. The workshop is aimed primarily at women, but available to anyone of 18 years or older.

Students can choose from outdoor cooking, outdoor photography, basic fishing, mountain biking, fly fishing, map and compass reading, hunting whitetail deer, basic firearms safety and handling, turkey calling, backyard wildlife and wildflower gardening, birdwatching, shotgun and rifle skills, archery and basic bowhunting, furbearer trapping and ecology, backpacking, boat trailering, hiking, fly tying, muzzleloader skills, waterfowl ecology. There’s even a fishing trip to catch, clean and cook the catch.

The workshop begins at 11:30am on Nov. 1 and continues through 1pm on Nov. 3. Lodging, meals, instruction and evening entertainment are in a $165 per person package. Call DNR at 410/974-3545.

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Earth Journal

It Was a Very Good Summer…

People keep grumbling, “It was certainly an unusual summer. Hardly seemed like summer at all.”

Shortening days, assuring us that summer has come and gone, seem a good time to remember summer’s days.

It was a very good summer … for mold. Mold had grand new propagation beds on leather shoes, felt hats and cook’s aprons; on wood cupboards, wood tables, wood walls; on freshly watered clay pots and clothes in the closet and sheets left just an hour or two in the washer. In fact, mold seemed to grow on everything but the cat.

It was a good summer for cats because it was a bad summer for fleas. Fleas couldn’t get their best hold this summer. We know a dog who managed to take on a colony, but the cat got by with just a few fleas in September.

For me, it was a good summer for chiggers. They left me alone. I’ll long remember last year’s infestation. Unfortunately, this year’s chiggers found neighbor Jack Brumbaugh to torment. They burrow under the skin and eat away. We’re told that only the mouth parts stay to create chiggers’ unique itch, but no one who’s been visited by chiggers will believe it.

It was a bad summer for corn. Too much rain at all the wrong times. Likewise tomatoes. At least mine. They got mushy and rotten right on the vine even before the plant pests moved in. One neighbor had scraggly greens but a medium crop of eating tomatoes. Another claimed a good crop. Spinach, potatoes, red beets, kale, hot peppers, tomatillos and basil flourished. So did wire grass. It’s never a bad year for wire grass… only for gardeners who don’t want it.

Last year, we complained incessantly of parched ground. Not this year. The land soaked in the moisture till it could hold no more. Then on the fringes of Hurricane Fran, the Bayside earth held water slopping around on its lap. Beach sands and part of Fairhaven Road ran off to sea when the high tides retreated. The road has been restored by County crews. The beaches wait a good nor’easter — and another cleanup. It was a good year, too, for beach debris with early spring’s extra high waters and again with Fran’s tides.

For rockfish, it was a year of record numbers. Fishers had it even better with rockfish quotas caught and kept. The bad year for sea nettles made it a good year for human Bay swimmers. The traditional Fourth of July nettle-arrival came and went without a single shriek of dismay. Likewise Labor Day. Only with Fran did sea nettles arrive.

Last year’s Columbus weekend hunter moon fired our evenings and our memories of departed friends. This year’s grand eclipse with Saturn standing by went unseen above thick clouds while helicopters flew vigil beneath in search of a wandering neighbor with Alzheimer’s disease.

And It was a good year for county fairs, Fourth of July parades, neighbors helping neighbors and breathing in the sweet Chesapeake air. Nothing unusual about that.

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