Two mates at the N.J. MarineMax Getaway

Star Island Yacht Club in Montauk Point was the destination, Tuesday, August 21, for MarineMax's famous Pirate Party -- part two of the Newport (R.I.)/Montauk (N.J.) Getaway. Prizes were awarded for the scariest, funniest and most authentic costumes. Boaters enjoyed dancing, eating, and getting acquainted with new friends and reacquainted with old ones too! Thursday, August 23, followed with a day by the pool, shopping, horseback riding, moped rentals, miniature golf and plenty of hiking.

The trip wrapped up on Friday morning with all boats heading home and left with a lifetime of memories. Until next time, Cruisers!

This Getaway was just fun for boaters -- MarineMax handled all of the planning.

Much of the day was sunny with a light breeze for the 160 boats fishing. As always, Friday (August 24) once again lived up to its "moving day" reputation, and the leaderboard took a beating as scorekeepers kept busy updating the standings in both weight and point categories. The billfish bite was spread throughout the canyons, though the majority of the tuna weighed-in reportedly came from Toms Canyon.

The entire complexion of the white marlin category changed on Friday, as Mark and Amy Granville-Smith aboard their Phat Mann shocked the entire tournament field when they weighed a new tournament record white marlin of 92 pounds to easily win the category and $750,112.

Rampapeous' 77-pound white marlin

Josh Foster's Rampageous finished in second place with his 77-pound white marlin caught on Day Four and received $136,984. Gina Addeo's Gina Lisa with Danny Scotti at the wheel captured third place after weighing a 69-pound white marlin on Friday and took home $67,872.

Andy Polash's Island Girl had the hot hand in the blue marlin division for the week as he weighed a 536-pound blue marlin on Friday to win the category. Island Girl also took second place with the 524-pound blue marlin weighed on Day Three. Island Girl's combined prize money was $327,175. Martin Judge Jr. on his Judge finished in third place with a 414-pound blue marlin weighed on Friday and received $67,872.

Big Kid's 212-pound catch

The 212-pound big eye tuna caught aboard Ken Gallop's Big Kid on Day One won the tuna category and $229,523, while Bob Bocchino's Mehl Ticket took second place with the big eye of 172 pounds, also caught on Day One, and received $186,192. Jim Davidson's Reel Class took third place after weighing a 168-pound big eye on Friday and won $62,872.

Nightwind's 39-pound dolphin win

Mike Freundlich's Nightwind won the dolphin category with a 39-pound mahi-mahi and received $10,000, while Val Lynch's Cyntinory claimed the wahoo category with a 77-pound 'hoo and also won $10,000.

Tom Sperl's Lethal Weapon took the Most Points White Marlin category with 675 points for eight white marlin releases and one blue marlin release. Tim Hakes Fin-Ness took 2nd Most Points White Marlin with 600 points for nine white marlin releases, while Gary Ingram's Big Oh to 3rd Most Points White Marlin, also with 600 points and eight releases and finished in third place based on time of catch.

In the Most Points Blue Marlin category Andy Polash's Island Girl took top honors with 530 points for his two boated blue marlin, and Larry Richardson's Always Late took 2nd Most Points Blue Marlin with 300 points and two releases. The 3rd Most Points Blue Marlin based on time of catch went to Nick and Trish Rodriguez on the Par Five with 300 points and two blue marlin released.

Ken Karl's Mollie K III took the Most Points Tuna award with 380.5 points, while Pete Brancaleone's Volatility took 2nd Most Points Tuna with 302 points. Adam LaRosa's Canyon Runner won 3rd Most Points Tuna with 292 points.

The prestigious Most Points Overall award went to Tim Hake's Fin-Ness with 750 points for seven white marlin released during the tournament.

Boats with significant white marlin releases on Friday include Gary Ingram's Big Oh with six while Tom Sperl's Lethal Weapon and Buddy Trala's Pumpin' Hard each released five. Tim Hake's Fin-Ness and Pat Healy's Viking 68 each released four while Anthony Martino's Concubine, Adam Buchman's Gina Lea and Eric Blank's Intrinsic each released three white marlin.

Boats with two white marlin releases on Friday include Dr. Hele Slone's Guided Discovery; William Burris' Melina; Bob Coppock's Blue Sky; Thomas Swider's Salty Susan and Jim Foulke's Trust Me. Other boats with two white marlin releases on Friday include Ron Levy's Sea Splendor; Herb Smith's Sensation; Wayne Niedoba's Plumber's Paradise; Dan Borislow's Triple Crown; Jim McCarthy's Covert Mission; Bill Frame's Champagne; Val Lynch's Cytinory; Butch Davis' Cerveza and Joe Aiello's Reel'n & Deal'n.

Nick and Trish Rodriguez's Par Five, Patrick McGovern's Mack Attack, Dennis Meinhart's Sea Wolf and Gary Stamm's Pumpin' Hard each released a blue marlin and a white marlin on Friday, while Larry Richardson's Always Late released a blue marlin.

Catch Report

White Marlin Released - 272

White Marlin Boated - 22

Blue Marlin Released - 23

Blue Marlin Boated - 3

Tuna Weighed - 53

Wahoo Weighed - 9

Dolphin Weighed - 9

See more: http://www.ma500.com

Who was it that said "I think we need a bigger boat". In July, my friend Ron and I hooked up on a spectacular 14 foot Great White Shark. He hit a whole mackerel 17 miles off of Cape May. He also hit a 30, so without being spooled we fought the shark as smart as we could. Two and a half hours later and three and a half miles from where we started, we had the shark boat side. Mind you, he was boat side for a few seconds, and then would just roll over, show us his big white belly, and start taking the line again. He leapt completely out of the water once and I'll never forget the size of that beast. With the World Cat, we were able to maneuver quickly to make sure we turned and kept the shark from going under the boat. Having two engines far apart makes it easy. It turns on a dime.

-- Jeff Platt

I owned a smaller cat before my World Cat. Last season, I was caught out in the canyon in 8'-10'. All of the larger boats went up and over the seas at 7 knots, and I did 30 knots in the trough until I got closer to shore, then cut back flying over the 4 footers. I love the World Cat because it's safe. It doesn't dig in and it doesn't duck dive. In the old boat, I would have called the Coast Guard. In the World Cat I just picked up and went home.

It's fast, economical, comfortable. I have had guys on it that are hard core monohull boaters. After a fast ride in 3 footers, even they swear that the cat rides much better in chop that their monohulls, but they tell me they'd never say that on shore. When you put safety, speed, economy and luxury together, you have a World Cat.

-- Jeff Platt

Jeff is from Marlton, N.J., and his email address is jplatt@graphicalinterface.net. He owns a computer consulting business called Graphical Interface.

In 1981 we bought "Lainey" (after my nickname for Elaine), a 20’ Cruisers Inc. cuddy cabin, deep vee, 150 HP Merc I/O, trailable. As usual we piled on all the electronics available at the time and outfitted it with a small butane stove, minimal cooking equipment, other necessities, a Porta Potty and Eddie Bauer sleeping bag.

Custom-made curtains, with either nylon screens or Plexiglas side windows, gave us a comfortable and roomy stand-up cockpit. It was a great little boat. We had retired and moved to northeastern Pennsylvania, only a couple hours from Alexandria Bay, N.Y. and the International Bridge to Canada. We had a number of fine boating days on the St. Lawrence River, 1000 Islands area, and the Rideau and Trent-Severn canals in Ontario.

In February about 1985, we hauled Lainey to the Ortega River in Jacksonville, Florida. We spent two somewhat chilly weeks there, cruising the St. Johns River. We left the boat there, motored home and went back down in the spring, sending the car home with a friend. Our plan was to run to Marathon on the Keys to visit friends, and then to come back up the Intra-Costal to, Northeast River, Md., where we had a slip at a local marina.

Leaving Jacksonville, we eventually arrived at Florida Bay. We gassed up at Jew Creek and prepared for the route south to Marathon. As we were getting gas, the sky to the north began to look ominous. We held, when we should have folded. What a mistake. Shortly after we left, a dark curtain descended over the sky to the north. A storm hit with all the fury of an afternoon Florida storm. The rain was torrential. The wind picked up, the waves tossed poor little Lainey around like a chip of wood. Hastily putting up the top and side covers, we headed into the wind trying to keep a buoy in sight. Visibility was awful. We put on our life jackets and finally took off one curtain on the lee side. If we capsized we didn’t want to be trapped in an enclosed boat.

The storm subsided as all storms finally do. We arrived in Marathon, soaked. The rain had come in the bow hatch. Sleeping bags, mattresses, clothes were drenched. We tied up at Faro Blanco Marina, had a couple of stiff drinks and dinner. We found plastic to cover our bunks and tumbled in. It was a terrifying, and dangerous, experience, All because we held when we should have folded!

-- Bill Corey

Ramblin’ Rose was a 37’ Chris Craft Constellation 1965 fly bridge cruiser, berthed at McDaniel’s Yacht Basin, Northeast, Maryland. In 1969 it replaced our little mini-cruiser, the Duckling. My wife, Margaret, had died in 1975. The following year I married Elaine, and for the second time in my life I had a gem for a wife.

Wally, a highly successful engineer with more than a hundred patents to his name, knew his way around boats. As did his wife. John, engineer for the city of Chicopee, Mass, likewise a highly competent engineer, was a stranger to boats. As was his wife – a stranger, completely so. Therein comes the tale.

As we spent the several days together, I became more frustrated, even annoyed, at John’s wife. An attractive girl, and an otherwise likable girl, she always seemed to be in the wrong place. Every boater who ever had guests aboard knows the experience.

One night at anchor as we prepared to bunk down, I had undressed, put on a bathrobe, and joined the others who were still talking on the after deck. The “problem lady” had left the head and bow compartment doors open, and the motion of the boat had caused the doors to bang together and the handles interlock. I was furious. All the frustration spewed forth and I spoke my mind about behavior on a boat. Elaine pounced on me for my discourtesy and uncalled-for remarks, dressing me down as only an irate wife can. For some reason I still had my underwear shorts in my hand. In a fit of anger I flung them at her. She promptly threw them overboard. She said later she was about to follow them, but shore looked too far away.

A couple of weeks later, I received a package from my friend Wally. In it was a pair of under shorts with corks sewn around the waist band!

Three years ago, my friend Wally died. His family asked me to speak at his memorial service in New Canaan, Conn. There were other speakers at his service, all prominent engineers. As is so often the case with engineers educated in an earlier era, speaking and writing were often way down on their list of abilities. When it came my turn to talk, I told the underwear story. It was the only time there was any laughter in the room.

Moral. No matter the size, boats are intimate things. If you have guests aboard who have had little or no boating experience, brief them first. Be patient and understanding. And remember: the captain should never, never cease being a pleasant and courteous host.

-- Bill Corey

The Duckling was a poor rough water boat and a problem in wind above 15 knots or so. Despite its Bimini top and side curtains, it was uncomfortable on a hot or rainy day. On a summer night, sometimes sleeping in our little cuddy cabin was pretty miserable. Otherwise we loved the boat, and took good care of it. It was a great boat on fairly calm water, but not the most suited for our way of boating.

So in 1969 we put it up for sale and bought a 1965 Chris Craft Constellation, 37’ long, twin screw, fly bridge. We added air conditioning and all the electronics available at the time. Margaret died suddenly in 1975, but for 10 years, in the two boats, we had enjoyable, adventurous times as we cruised and explored the Chesapeake, both coasts of Florida and the Bahamas. I’m glad she lived those years to share these times together.

But getting back to the sale of the Duckling.

We advertised it, but there was not a whole lot of interest. Finally we got the break we were waiting for. A teenage boy wanted a boat, and his father agreed to look at the Duckling. They asked to have an in-water demonstration, so we hauled it to Norristown and launched it in the Schuylkill River.

As I prepared to demonstrate it, the father said he wanted an “expert” to ride along. Out of the car came a behemoth, at least 300 pounds. Not even asking permission to board, he plopped down on the port transom seat, and the stern sank. The poor light aluminum shallow draft boat could no way overcome that excessive weight literally alongside the propeller. One of the basic lessons about any ship or boat is the proper distribution of weight. A boat stern heavy or bow heavy, or with a port or starboard list is a poor performer. This was my boat. I was in charge. The Duckling easily took four passengers. I knew the importance of correct trim. Why did I let this 300-350 guy sit where he did? Why didn’t I throw him the heck off the boat? I did neither. The poor boat slogged along like a scow. It was a disaster.

I am now 95 years old, but it still dogs me that I didn’t give this “expert” a lesson on trim. Had I seated everyone properly, or taken the kid out by himself and let him have the thrill of running it, he would probably have become the owner of a fast and nimble boat, one beautifully equipped and well maintained. And I would have made a sale.

A Sale Gone Awry. Even an ocean going freighter must be properly loaded!

As we approached the Sound, the weather turned a bit nasty. We thought the Neuse was a challenge, but when we saw Albermarle we knew we were in for a very, very difficult crossing. It was either wait for a more opportune time or take our chances.

As we idled along the Alligator-Pungo Canal, a sailboat drew abreast. Hailing it, we asked if they were crossing the Sound. They answered that they were, but were going into Elizabeth City and then up the Dismal Swamp route to Norfolk. We had planned the more direct Virginia Cut route. But because of the conditions, we asked if we could follow them across, using their wake as a sort of a carpet. Being okay with them we did so.

Their boat was named “Tall Story.” They were towing a dingy with the name “Short Tail.” (Note the spelling of “tail.”) For years I saw in my mind those names on the transoms. Because as we bounced, pitched and tossed for the several hours’ crossing, we focused on those names, sticking on their stern.

Reaching Elizabeth City, we said goodbye and thanks to our friends. We went up the Dismal Swamp canal – beautiful – into Norfolk for the night. Next day up the Chesapeake Bay to the Little Choptank River, where we spent the night at anchor.

Early next morning, we took off for Kent Island, arriving at our Piney Narrows slip at about 10 o’clock in the morning.

In the slip next to ours there was a fascinating couple. He was a bit of a dandy, and she was one of the all-time boating prudes. They had about a 32’ cruiser, which either he didn’t know how to operate or was afraid to do so. So they would sit on their boat all week, and on Saturdays a local waterman would come to operate their boat and take them for a ride.

As we made our final tie up, after two weeks and 1,400 miles of travel, the neighboring lady greeted us with the question, “Out for a morning trip?” She apparently hadn’t noticed our empty slip all those days. “No,” we answered, “we are just returning from Florida.” To which she replied, “In that?”

Yes, In that. If you have a boat, use it. Push it through strange waters. See all the wonderful things there are to see in new places. Take advantage of that which is there for us to do so. Boating is beautiful, be it in a canoe, a sunfish, 16' outboard, a 65' cruiser, or just “In that.”

-- Bill Corey

We spent several days cruising the Florida Bay and under the Seven Mile Bridge at Marathon, into the Atlantic. Then we awaited a calm day to head over Florida Bay to Cape Sable and the Gulf of Mexico, and start north. While waiting, we had a boatyard in Marathon enlarge our gas tank and add an extra battery. We wanted good weather and calm winds for the trip across the bay and up the gulf. We had learned the hard way the previous year that the Duckling was a poor performer in rough water.

We cast off finally, and took a due north magnetic heading to Cape Sable, the southernmost part of mainland Florida, and the Gulf of Mexico. We raised the Cape Sable light and continued up the Gulf shore to Fort Myers Beach. We ran east up the Calooshatchee river and canal, to Clewiston, the entrance to the route across Lake Okeechobee.

The good weather had held, and the two day trip was uneventful, except for a broken rib and mangled tongue sustained at Clewiston when I fell between the dock and the boat, banging my ribs and chin against the Duckling’s gunwale.

Crossing Lake Okeechobee, entering the St. Lucie canal and river, we arrived at Stuart, Florida for the trip up the Intercoastal. With ribs hurting, especially when I had to lift the cooler, empty the water and put in a new 50-pound block of ice, we enjoyed the following days running up Florida, Georgia and most of South Carolina. The weather stayed fine.

We got almost through South Carolina, where we crossed the mouth of the Pee Dee River, intending to run up the river to Georgetown to spend the night, when we ran out of gas. Setting the anchor, I tried calling the Coast Guard on the ship to shore radio. Got no reply. But the captain of a fishing boat answered, asked my problem, reported the fishing was bad and that his guests were getting tired. He was coming in the inlet in about an hour and would tow us to Georgetown.

He asked if we were all right, in no danger and apologized for an hour’s delay to give us a tow. I glibly replied we were fine, thoroughly safe, had plenty of food, and enough beer to last a week. To which he replied he would then “See us in seven days”!

My heart stopped racing when he arrived on “Nauti-Gal,” a 40' sport fisherman, about an hour later, threw us a line and towed us to a marina in Georgetown. He would accept no money, but gave me a stern lecture about using some common sense when boating. Had he not been where he was and when he was, on a not very traveled area of the waterway, it might have been a long, long wait.

-- Bill Corey

From the beginning we had a problem with the engine occasionally dying out. New fuel pumps, both mechanical and electrical, were installed. The carburetor was replaced. After each repair, the tank was topped off and the Duckling skipped over the water as well as ever.

In June 1968, my brother, his wife, my wife and I towed our boats – they had a Boston Whaler loaded with camping equipment, and we had the Duckling – to Trenton, Ontario. The purpose was to make a round trip on the Trent-Severn Waterway.

Starting on the Trent River at the Bay of Quinte, Lake Ontario, the Waterway wanders 310 miles slightly north of west from Trenton to the Severn River at Georgian Bay, Lake Huron. Forty five locks raise you 640 feet to the highest point at Balsam Lake, Buckhorn, and then drop you 398 feet at Georgian Bay. On the way the route takes you through the Kawartha Lakes, and across Lake Simcoe, some of the most beautiful cruising water I’ve seen.

Without difficulty, except finding the Duckling a lousy rough water boat and very subject to cross winds, the latter causing me some embarrassing moments due to the swirling winds in some of the locks, in several days we reached Lake Simcoe. In a heavy rain storm with little visibility we ran a compass course across the lake to the town of Orillia. I found a covered slip in a marina and we spent a comfortable night.

The next day was clear. While getting gas I explained to a mechanic the trouble I had been having with the engine conking out. Without a word, he pulled the intake tube from the gas tank and pointed out a small split near the bottom of the tube. hen the fuel was low in the tank, the split was uncovered and the fuel pump could pump nothing but air! With fuel level above the split, fuel was pumped normally. That explained why after every so-called repair job, as a matter of course we always topped off our tank and the problem appeared fixed.

The 10 bucks given the Canadian mechanic forever solved our problem.

The lesson learned: Look beyond the obvious; it's often the Simplest Thing.

-- Bill Corey