After moving to New Jersey, I still maintained my ties to the river and returned to the Spuyten Duyvil area as often as my schedule permitted. In addition to" taking,” I felt obligated to give something back to the waterway that had afforded me so many pleasant experiences, so when the opportunity to join the Hudson River Fishermen's Association presented itself, I quickly took advantage of it. However my enthusiasm soon waned when I realized that traveling to Peekskill New York for meetings was impractical and unrealistic. Fortunately, a New Jersey chapter of the association was being formed and I had the opportunity to contribute in a small way by obtaining the printing and embroidery services for the association's New Jersey emblem. It was during this time that I made the acquaintance of Pete Barrett who as I recall was working in the advertising department of the Garcia Corporation, but even then was looking to a career in journalism and environmental activism.

Pete was an enthusiastic striper fisherman so when I happened to come across a huge school of bass feeding with regularity under the railroad bridge at the point where the Harlem river meets the Hudson, I gave him explicit instructions and wished him well! I should have wished a bit harder! About a week or so after I had sent Pete to my spot, I called him to see how he had made out. Yes he had taken bass that night but there had been a slight tradeoff. When Pete went back to the parking lot to drive home he found that he was missing his four tires. Not a pleasant situation at any time, but especially not at one a.m.! In a recent correspondence with the Hudson River Fishermen's Association, I related the story and also indicated that it was the last tip I had given to Pete because he brought a low class element to the area!

Although the passage of time has a way of softening the memory, that story has made the rounds for over thirty years. The area where the incident occurred was in the commuter parking lot for the railroad, an active spot during the morning and evening rush hours but was quite isolated after that and on weekends. Yet until that incident we never experienced any problems. In retrospect I think we were just lucky. Some time later, my son and I returned home from a night at the river only to be told by my wife "that’s not your car.” What she had observed was the fact that the license plates on our car had been replaced with plates from a rental car. The police felt that someone planning a robbery with a stolen rental car using my plates as a cover had made the switch. Not a pleasant thought. My fishing trips to the river took a quick change to daylight hours. Gradually they were forsaken for less thrilling adventures in a small boat.

In an earlier report I had mentioned that some of the regulars were using pieces of wood and plastic which it turned out were popping plugs, when I found out where and when to use them, they were incredibly effective. But that’s another story!