The Fisherman's Angle 



By Carla B. Burgess 



The sun has been ambivalent on this 

 late summer day. Tucked beneath a 

 blanket of rain clouds the color of steel 

 wool, it emerges now and then in a 

 teasing gesture during my drive east to 

 Roanoke Island. 



No rain has fallen, but in the 90-degree 

 humidity, I almost want to wring the damp 

 air like a towel. At Manteo, the clouds give 

 way to a tentative shower, bringing the 

 eighth straight day of rain to this coastal 

 community. 



I couldn't have picked a better day to 

 talk to fishermen about weather and 

 fishing. With the rain of the past week 

 fresh on their minds and their decks too, 

 the charter boat captains at Oregon Inlet 

 Fishing Center are chatty. 



My final destination for the day, the 

 fishing center is as full of activity as a 

 kicked-in anthill. The charters are just 

 returning from their day at sea, and the 

 sprinkle of rain has subsided. 



I maneuver through the center 

 carefully, ducking around throngs of 

 charter fishennen and tourists with 

 cameras admiring the catches of the day. 

 The fish line the dock neatly like pelagic 

 tick marks: bulky tuna, blunt-headed 

 yellowish dolphin and skinny Spanish 

 mackerel. 



If I expect complaints about the 

 weather, I hear no cross words from the 

 captain of The Sportsman. 



"Sometimes the bad weather helps you 

 fish," says Omie Tillett. Inside the cabin, 

 the Wanchese native looks weathered 

 himself. He sits on the bench and leans 

 back, clasping his hands together on his 

 lap and stretching his tan, bare feet. 



"Pretty weather is good 'cause you 

 don't lose no trips. But too much of one 

 thing is not good for anything," he says in 

 a soft voice, it takes a change in the 

 weather to bring the fish in. 



"A northeaster helps, but then it might 

 cut you out of a week's work," he says, 

 shrugging. 



"The rain doesn't bother us too much," 

 he says. "We're 35 to 40 miles out, and the 



Omie Tillett 



squalls just pass on through. You're not in 

 it all day long." 



Nearly 60 miles south, at the tip of 

 Hatteras Island, Steve Hissey is not as 

 forgiving. Four solid weeks of muggy, 

 southwest winds have rendered small-boat 

 offshore fishing in this neck of the woods 

 "non-existent," he says. The co-owner of 

 Pelican's Roost Tackle Shop in Hatteras is 

 losing patience with Mother Nature. 



"To me. the fish can feel the pressure 

 changing. They feed better before a cold 

 front and before a wind shift, but we've 

 had nothing but rain the last week and a 

 half," he says. "A southwest wind like this 

 puts warm water on the beach and puts 

 crabs in the surf. You can't keep bait on a 

 line." 



Steve Hissey 



A customer in the store agrees. He's 

 been fishing for flounder in the sound, 

 using shrimp for bait. The only clamoring 

 on his line today has come from calico 

 crabs. 



"I think the fish are confused because 

 the weather's so confused," says Hissey, 

 reaching for his ringing telephone. He 

 looks up over his shoulder at his televi- 

 sion, which is tuned to The Weather 

 Channel. 



"We got two more inches dumped on 

 us today — I'm growing gills," he tells the 

 caller. "I don't think we've weighed a 

 citation pompano since you've been gone; 

 the water's so awful." 



It was a friend from Maryland, Hissey 

 explains as he hangs up. He says he 



10 SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER 1991 



