AS SEEN IN THE SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER 2007 ISSUE

Last year, I took on an angling adventure unlike any other. Why I even considered it is still somewhat of a mystery to me. Maybe it was because we had a spell of rainy weather earlier that season and consequently, I lost a number of trips. Either way, I did it. And trust me when I tell you; I’ve kind of regretted it ever since.

Every fall, a convention comes to Pleasantville. It is actually a convocation - an assembly of churches, temples and cathedrals from all over the country. I didn’t even think about the convention or even know it was in town until the phone rang that fateful afternoon and a gentle voice asked if I was available to take a few guys fishing the following morning. Evidently, the young lady was calling on behalf of a trio of close friends who reunite annually at this very event. I should have hung up as soon as she said the group consisted of a Catholic priest, a Baptist preacher, and an orthodox rabbi.

The next morning - 7:00 a.m. on the button – is when I first laid eyes on the three walking down the dock. They looked just like tourists. I recall thinking, “This couldn’t possibly be them.”

As they strolled straight for my stern, one of them said, “Captain Tosay? Hi, I’m Pastor Douglas. We’re ready to go!” Reaching out to take my hand as he pointed to his friend, another of the three said, “I’m Father Kelly and this is Rabbi Goldstein. Between the three of us, the fish should be jumping in the boat.”

After helping the three aboard and showing them where the safety equipment was located and how to operate the electric head, off we went into the early morning sunshine. Over the roar of the diesels, I asked if they had ever been fishing. Father Kelly had caught a bass once. Pastor Douglas was a good hand with a cane pole, and Rabbi Goldstein loved gefilte fish with a little garlic and salt.

Cleo, my deck hand, still a bit uneasy about how to handle himself in the company of such holy men, had not even finished deploying the trolling spread before a fine cow crushed a ballyhoo and took to the sky. The Pastor showed lots of enthusiasm as he wrestled the beautiful fish to the boat. Minutes later, Father Kelly had his turn. He did every single thing a novice angler could do wrong and still managed to land an impressive bull that must have weighed 40 pounds!

Rabbi Goldstein, who had never fished a day in his life, was on the rod next. Despite his lack of experience, following Cleo’s instructions, he, too, landed a real trophy. “Now how ‘bout that,” I thought. “Three strikes, three hook ups, and three fish in the box - all in less than an hour!” It was like some sort of miracle. However, things were about to take a very serious turn.

Zingggg…the reel screamed and again it was the Pastor’s turn to fight the fish. Somehow though, Rabbi Goldstein managed to snake his way into the fighting chair. “The last fish I schlepped up was so invigorating, I must have this fish, too!”

Pastor Douglas knew he would have the last laugh as fish slaughtered with a rusty gaff would never be kosher and Rabbi Goldstein would miss out on a fantastic dinner. Again, it was nothing less than a miracle that the fish was not lost but after 10 minutes, it was time to boat the fish. Cleo foolishly gave the gaff to Pastor Douglas, “Have you ever used one of these before?” he asked. “No but I will give it my best shot” he said. 

Cleo turned to the captain on the bridge, gave a slight grin and muttered, “This should be fun.” 

As the fish approached the boat all three men crowded the gunwale. Pastor Douglas reached out to gaff the big dolphin and just he hit the fish in the head, it leapt straight over the transom and directly towards the men. In the melee of it all, with gaff still in hand, Pastor Douglas – who spun around to avoid the incoming missile, accidentally pierced Rabbi Goldstein in the right cheek - and I don’t mean the right cheek on his face. “Aaahhhh! You klutz! You speared me right in the tuchas,” screamed the rabbi.

The two holy men bickered for a few minutes before noticing the swollen eye of Father Kelly. During the commotion, the butt section of the gaff hit him right in the side of the face. Pastor Douglas had succeeded in injuring both of his comrades in one smooth motion. While the trip did produce three beautiful fish in less than an hour - an awesome morning in anyone’s book – the day turned out miserably. One thing for sure; the three men would not be fishing together again next year, at least not on my boat!

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