Monday, December 9, 2013
If any of you happen to use the Google web browser today, when you open it, you'll immediately see that it honors what would have been the 107th birthday of this lady, the late-Rear Adm. Grace Murray Hopper, the Navy's first and foremost computer pioneer.
I once had the distinct privilege to sit down and interview this marvelous lady for a feature story in All Hands magazine. Here's the link to that story, as it appeared in the May 1975 issue: http://www.navy.mil/ah_online/archpdf/ah197505.pdf. Use the arrows at the bottom to go to page 32, where the story begins.
Rear Adm. Hopper was one of those people who comes along in a lifetime and leaves an indelible mark on the rest of your days. After my interview with her, I used to make it a point to go by her office and say "hi" anytime I was in the proximity, and she always made time to chat a few minutes.
It's truly fitting that Google has chosen to honor Rear Adm. Hopper today. I salute both them and the lady they placed in the spotlight.
Saturday, December 7, 2013
I can't begin to tell you how many times in all my working years I was on the asking or granting end of the same question, and never once did I stonewall someone or get stonewalled myself. For example, I remember an occasion when I went to the Austin American-Statesman newspaper in the Texas capital with a request to reprint a huge article of national interest at the time--so huge that I had to ask their permission to run it in six parts in my magazine. Within 72 hours, I had their OK to reprint the article in its entirety, in six parts, with full attribution of course, and all I had to do in exchange was to provide them a copy of each issue of my magazine that contained a part of the story.
That's the way this process is supposed to work. But in the case of In-Fisherman, it's as though I had asked for permission to reprint a Pulitzer prize-winner, or perhaps they're a lot busier than I've ever found any other newspaper or magazine office. After two emails and a voicemail I left for In-Fisherman's senior editor, whose byline appears on the article in question, I still don't have an answer to my question.
I haven't given up hope yet, though. Two days ago, I received an acknowledgement from a representative of the magazine's customer-service department, who apologized for the inconvenience I've been experiencing and said she was forwarding my inquiry to "the home office to review."
I can't help wondering if perhaps this all would have been a non-issue if the Lindners still owned the In-Fisherman company. However, they sold it to Primedia Broadcasting in 1998, and therein may lie an explanation for my current predicament. I'll get over it, though--in about the same time it takes me to fall asleep after a long day on the water. Just needed to vent a little.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Unfortunately, both of their obituaries appear to have disappeared from the Internet, or if they still exist, I simply can't find them. So now I'm turning to all of you readers, in hopes that some of you, or perhaps someone you know, may be able to provide the information (e.g., date of death and age at that time) I'm including in this new gadget. If you can help--in any way--please don't hesitate to contact me. Incidentally, if you know of someone other than Bill and Ray whom I should include, I'll gladly take the info if you have it.
If you have any questions, email me at: email@example.com.
As he explained this afternoon, the 2-8 made him work to get it in the boat. The fish snatched the bait in the roots of a submerged stump, then darted for the safety of a nearby duck blind. Add a fair amount of boat-control issues, thanks to the wind, and you should get a pretty fair picture of the situation Jim had to deal with to get his prize in the net for this picture.
At launch time this morning--about 9:30--the water temperature was 52 degrees. When Jim quit a few minutes after 2 o'clock, the main-creek temperature showed 52.9, but he said the water in a small cove he had fished just before calling it a day was showing 55 degrees. He also noted that the water above the bridge seemed to be the clearest today. However, once you got near the S-turn, you had wads of leaves and pine needles to deal with--not the best conditions for running a crankbait.
Jim reported that a couple of anglers in a Triton today said they had 6 bass when he talked to them. Charlie's buddy, Ray, also said he had caught a few--all small stuff, though.
Although he originally planned to fish again tomorrow, Jim said he's not sure that will happen now, given the predicted windy conditions. Another factor in the final decision will be how he feels--"not sure my cranky hips are going to be up to it" is the way he described the situation.
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
I asked my friend, Charlie (who also fished West Neck today), if he had seen the event--hoping that he maybe had gotten a better shot--but that wasn't the case. He never saw any of the parachutes that momentarily dotted the sky at all this morning. It was a pretty sight, even with the heavy overcast conditions.
These conditions persisted off and on throughout much of the day, but I really wasn't too worried about getting wet, because I had checked the weather radar online before leaving the house this morning. The area behind that line of showers that moved through about 7 a.m. looked OK, so I decided to take my chances. In the final analysis, that was a good decision. Charlie and I only saw two very brief periods of spitting rain for the whole day, and neither one got the carpeting wet in my boat.
Today's bites were more of that "mushy" stuff I dealt with yesterday, and one of those bites turned out not to be a bite at all. While fishing the mouth of a cove, I snagged what I thought was my best fish of the day, but it really was just another angler's fishing line that was snagged on the bottom. Eventually, the snagged line broke off, so I wrapped it all up and tossed it in the trash this afternoon when I got back to the ramp.
Today's trip likely will be my last until sometime next week, because I have some things to do around the house tomorrow, and rain then is supposed to move in over the weekend. Until next time, Tight Lines!
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Anyone familiar with Jim remembers that he used to spend considerable time swapping stories and jokes with the late-Dewey Mullins and other West Neck patrons. When he wasn't relaxing in the marina store, he often could be found on the water with his close friend, Bill Rhodes.
In his online obituary I read just this evening, the author said, "He (Jim) made a lasting impression with everyone who knew him, and his wisdom, advice and wisecracks will sorely be missed by those lucky enough to call him friend." A truer statement never has been written. He was the kind of guy who had a very special knack for always leaving you laughing.
The online obituary went on to note that a Celebration of Life Service will be held at a later date. Memorial donations may be made to the COPD Foundation at http://bit.ly/1fTe2gJ, or to the Virginia Beach Rescue Squad at http://bit.ly/1eADGTJ. You may sign the online guest book at www.legacy.com/guestbooks/pilotonline/guestbook.aspx?n=james-rose&pid=168292348&cid=gbsrchres#sthash.a6HOJ0ao.dpbs. The Cremation Society of Virginia is handling the arrangements.
It was all about a "mushy" bite today, but after a couple weeks of sitting around doing nothing, I'll gladly settle for that or any other kind of bite. Don't reckon I could have expected anything better, given the 43-degree water temperature that existed when I launched at 9:30 this morning.
This 1-1 was my best fish of the day. I did catch three others, though, with each weighing about 14 ounces. And all four fish came between 1 o'clock and 2:30. I also had two other fish on during that timeframe but lost them. They both hit even "mushier" than the other four, and I didn't even realize they were on until I felt a slight tension and saw the line moving at an angle.
Between launch time and 12 noon, I worked the water above the bridge, all to no avail, even though I did see some swirls and watched a couple of fish break the surface. I then ran to a stretch of shoreline, on the other side of the bridge, that was productive for me most of this past summer. After losing a Bomber Square A to a submerged stump, I tied on another one in firetiger, and it wasn't long before I boated my first fish of the day. The other three fish also fell for the same bait.
At 2:30, however, it was like someone threw the "off" switch, and for the last 30 minutes of my day, my efforts amounted to a drill in futility.
I'm not sure when I'll get out again. This time of year, the weather--and Uncle Arthur--pretty much dictate whether I go or find something else to occupy my time.