Tick Tock--Catchin' Fish Was the Reason for This Clock

Photo provided by Charlie Bruggemann

Go to Google images, enter "fishing clocks" as your search phrase,  and the results you get run the gamut of people's imagination. One clock you won't find pictured there, though, is a one-handed clock, which tells best fishing times.

This clock--actually just a prototype, because it never was marketed--belongs to TV bass-fishing-show
host, Bill Dance, who is pictured above, along with the clock. The man who invented it, though, lives right here in Hampton Roads--Virginia Beach, to be exact. His name is Ray Scott--and, no, he's not the man who founded the Bass Anglers Sportsman Society--not even kin, as far as I know.

This Ray Scott (pictured left) is Charlie Bruggemann's good friend. He's also an avid fisherman. And last but certainly not least, he's a docent at the Virginia Beach Military Aviation Museum, where until last year, he flew the planes, instead of just telling visitors about them. (Read about his long aviation career in the article reprinted with permission at the end of this one. It first appeared in Volume 5, Issue 4, of the Museum's membership newsletter, Prop Noise.)

Ray estimates it was about 20 years ago when he got the idea for this clock. After spending a couple of years and about $10,000 of his own money researching the idea, developing a prototype, and writing a set of operating instructions, he contacted the late-Dr. Loren G. Hill, a longtime fishery academic and avid bass angler. Dr. Hill, at the time, was director of the Zoology Department and Biological Research Center at the University of Oklahoma. He's best known as inventor of the Color-C-Lector, a device that helped anglers choose lure colors based on water and light conditions.

Ray and Dr. Hill signed a disclosure statement, and Dr. Hill then went looking for financial support. At that point, however, problems arose, and without a marketing source, Ray had no choice but to abandon his venture. That's when Bill Dance ended up with the prototype in the earlier picture--Dr. Hill gave it to him after Ray pulled the plug on his invention. Ray still has one of the clocks himself, as do a few other folks who bought a limited number he assembled and made available at some trade shows he attended, but there, unfortunately, are no more to be had these days.

Ray's best-fishing-times clock, or "Strike Alert," as he named it, operated on the same principle as a tide clock, which, according to Wikipedia, keeps track of the Moon's apparent motion around the Earth. Along many coastlines, the Moon contributes the major part (67 percent) of the combined lunar and solar tides. The exact interval between the tides is influenced by the position of the Moon and Sun, relative to the Earth, as well as the specific location on Earth where the tide is being measured.

Owing to the Moon's orbital progress, it takes a particular point on the Earth, (on average) 24 hours, 50 minutes, to rotate under the Moon, so the time between high lunar tides fluctuates between 12 and 13 hours. A tide clock is divided into two six-hour-long tidal periods that show the average length of time between high and low tide in a semi-diurnal tide region, such as most areas of the Atlantic Ocean. Therefore, compared with the actual time between the high lunar tides, tide clocks gain approximately 15 minutes per month and must be reset periodically.

I honestly don't understand much of that Wikipedia explanation of a tide clock, but I assure you that the 80-year-old Ray does. He's as sharp as a tack, looks fit, has a really firm handshake, and says the only reason he retired from flying a year or so ago is because he noticed a couple of things that gave him a clue it was time to "keep his feet on the ground."

Photo by Charlie Bruggemann

Earlier, I described Ray as an "avid fisherman"--and that's no joke." He's very humble about his abilities, though--"I'm not a very good fisherman," he said. But when I
asked him what his biggest bass to date is, he perked up and quickly announced: "7-2." Then I inquired where he caught it, and his response was, "Chickahominy River." After a brief pause, he added with a smile, "I even had my name up in crayon at
the local tackle store for two days afterward."

I like Ray's style, and I told him so as we went our separate ways at the conclusion of yesterday's interview.  Now enjoy the sidebar that follows, describing his long and satisfying aviation career.

Ray Scott the Aviator

By Jacey Byrne

 

A young Ray Scott flying an early-model Mustang

In 1947, when Ray Scott was 16, he spent a lot of time at a local airport.  As veteran pilots were returning home, he got to know some of them and was given several airplane rides. It was then, while watching World
War II veterans utilizing their G.I. Bill for flight training, that he decided to
do the same thing.

 

In 1953, Ray was drafted into the Army. After basic training , he served as an instructor and then was sent to Korea and served as wire chief for the 7th Infantry Division.

 

Ray Scott in the museum's P-51 Mustang

Following his discharge from the service, and with assistance from the G.I. Bill, his dream came true as he attended flight school. After completion of that training, he built flight time while serving as an instructor and towing banners. He also started a glider school with a friend, and it's still in operation today--50 years later.

 

Scott flew as a corporate pilot during the next 24 years, primarily in turbo-props, and acquired 750 hours in a Be 18 (Army C-45, Navy SNB), which introduced him to Warbird aircraft.

 

The corporate job he had required him to take regular FAA flight checks, and he knew most of the FAA people in the Richmond office. Those same FAA pilots who had given him flight checks recommended him when there was an opening for an aviation-safety inspector in the Richmond office. Although this is a difficult and coveted position, Ray passed through the process quickly--and with flying colors.

Ray Scott in the museum's Curtiss P40.
Photo by Charlie Bruggemann

After his retirement, he received a call from Ken Laird, asking if he would be interested in flying his Tora Tora Tora Val in airshows, which started him in another aviation direction... Warbirds. During an airshow at Oceana, he met someone at the Military Aviation Museum and was offered a flight in the SNJ.

Later, Ray sent a letter to the museum, expressing his desire to become involved as an airshow coordinator with the Fighter Factory, where the aircraft are maintained for the museum. He spent the next 8 years flying many of the Warbirds you see there today and serving as the airshow coordinator, which Ray describes as "the most enjoyable part of his aviation career." After 56 years of flying and more than 13,000 hours, he says he wouldn't change much and is thankful for his time with the Warbirds. He enjoys the Spitfire because of its historical factor and the Yak because of the excitement of its power and acceleration.

 

Ray now is an active museum docent and loves to talk about all the aircraft they have, especially the P-51 Mustang, which, he says, "is the most pleasurable to fly." He can't pick a favorite, though--he loves them all!