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One of gardening’s incomparable pleasures



There is nothing like sneaking into the garden in mid to late July after the potato plants have finished flowering and stealing a few thin-skinned potatoes. If you hill your potatoes with compost in place of garden soil, you can harvest potatoes without disturbing the plant. At the final harvest, you get the added benefit of potatoes that are almost dirt-free.
    Freshly dug potatoes have a flavor all their own. Mashed, they are nice and fluffy; French-fried, they are always golden and absorb very little cooking oil; baked, they are outstandingly delicious. They bring all these advantages because they are nearly 100 percent starch. As their thin skin needs no peeling, they are packed with vitamins that concentrated immediately under the skin. If you like hash brown potatoes with onions, your garden can provide both because the long-day onions you plant this spring will be bulbing at about the same time you start taking potatoes from the plants.
    Hilling potatoes with immature yard-debris compost in place of garden soil has many advantages. First, it forces you to generate an abundance of compost because it takes a lot to hill potatoes. By the time the potato plants are two feet tall, you will have had to hill them at least three times. For a row 80 feet long, that’s at least five wheelbarrows full. Purchasing that much compost would cost you a pretty penny. Furthermore, the compost you purchase is finished and heavy to handle. Immature compost from the composting bin that you filled last fall has a large amount of partially decomposed leaves mixed with more fully decomposed materials, making it less dense and easy to transport and apply.
    Second, by hilling the potato plants with compost, you can easily push your hands in until you feel an edible potato. As long as you gently remove the potato from the rhizome, you do not retard the growth of the plant.
    Third, as immature compost does not absorb much water, even the smallest rain will penetrate down into the soil where most of the roots that feed the plants are located.
    Fourth, potato beetles do not appear to be as problematic on potatoes hilled with unfinished compost. Entomologists tell me that adult potato beetles are not good navigators. They have no problem taking off, but when it comes to landing, they often miss their target. Instead of flying back to the plant they missed, they walk on the soil. They appear not to like walking on rough surfaces such as unfinished compost. Thus, when hilling with unfinished compost, keep the leaves of the plants from touching the ground.
    There are many years I have not had to spray for beetles. A daily walk through the planting to remove the beetles by hand, dropping them into a container, is all that has been necessary.
    Fifth, by hilling with compost you have added to the organic matter of your garden soil. By rotating my potato planting every year, I manage to apply a uniform layer of compost over the entire garden every five years.
    All that and delicious young potatoes, too.


Ask The Bay Gardener your questions at DR.FRGouin@gmail.com. Please include your name and address.

A partnership of late dinners

It was getting dark. Exhausted and stinking of menhaden, I fingered a reel, feeding more line into the dwindling tidal current. I had fished since morning and caught at least three or four rockfish mere inches short of the 35-inch minimum, so calling it quits without a keeper was difficult.
    Earlier in the day, I had warned my wife I was intending to fish well into the afternoon.
    “That means you’ll be out there until after nine or so, right?”
    “No. I hope to be home at seven, certainly by eight.”
    At half past eight, I was still fishing and at least an hour from home. Deb, I knew, would not be upset or even surprised, even if I was a good deal later.
    My spouse understands this sort of thing. She is a sculptor. When we first met, I feared the extreme behavior of an artist would fatally complicate our relationship. Instead, it seems to have inured us to each other’s excesses.
    Back in those days, Deborah might be incommunicable for days, pulling endless all-nighters to get ready for a show, despite the slight chance of financial reward.
    She didn’t find it maddening that I spent all my vacation time, and not a little money, flying with our two German shorthairs clear across the country to chase chukar partridge, valley quail or some equally obscure game bird along ridges and mountainsides so steep and remote that many questioned my sanity.
    In our different pursuits, we were almost identically compulsive. We both intrinsically understood the irrationality of our efforts but accepted them in each other.
    Later, as she found success and became even busier, devoting countless hours in her studio, I had expanded mine to pursuing bonefish in the Bahamas, Mexico and eventually down into the Caribbean.
    To further complicate, in the middle of all this we had three sons. That put limits on our scope of adventure. Though much more home-bound, we still followed our passions. I mostly limited mine to hunting and fishing around the Chesapeake. Deb began to teach, restricting her shows to one or two a year, while we raised the boys.
    Our sons are now adults, two in businesses in Florida and the third a sculptor living and working in Baltimore. Outside teaching hours, Deborah has created a loyal following of collectors who occupy her with their constant demand for her work. I’m still a fervent, outdoor enthusiast.
    Which brings me back to the dwindling light as the last of the sun outlined ripples in the current. On a similar night just a few years ago I enjoyed an insanely intense bite of stripers at near midnight not too far from this spot.
    Then I picked up one of the four rods trailing aft. Cranking in line, I unhooked the chunk of menhaden bait and tossed it into the current. Securing the hook and racking the rod, I did the same to the other three outfits. I was packing it in and going home.
    Sitting down to a late dinner and conversation with my wife seemed like a reasonable alternative to spending another few hours trying to seduce a big rockfish. The idea, however, was a little startling. Was I getting old? Or finally growing up?

In Chesapeake Country we are not alone

A twist of current? A floating isle of seagrass?
    In the next instant, my speculation took form as a large turtle rising through the bottle-glass water. A cousin of Calypso, the rescued sea turtle star of the National Aquarium in Baltimore’s Blacktip Reef exhibit? The star, too, of Kathy Knotts’ story this issue in honor of the 25th anniversary of the Rescue Center, she was on my mind. But the hooked beak then poking at the meniscus of the water marked this apparition as a snapping turtle. No baby ducks paddled on the cove this year. Even the resident heron was absent. Perhaps I know why.
    One way and another, it’s getting to be the turtle time of year. Box turtles will soon be crossing our roads. Humans are as dangerous to them as snappers are to ducklings. Our cars squash them; abandoned crab pots imprison them. From the marsh edge of Bay Weekly’s former office between Rockhold Creek and Tracys Creek, production manager Betsy Kehne and I once pulled out a derelict crab pot containing the empty shells of three box turtles that had wandered in but could find no way out.
    Diamondback terrapins can also die in crab pots. In this week’s paper, Bob Melamud tells you how to buy or rig your traps to avoid drowning Maryland’s mascot reptile — thus being a law-abiding citizen.
    Both those stories remind us that we are not alone. Chesapeake Country is full of life — from turtles, who give us occasional glimpses … to foxes, no longer unusual … to commonplace deer, raccoons and opossums … to squirrels, our everyday neighbors … to the constant companionship of birds big as eagles and small as hummingbirds, bees, butterflies and beetles.
    Thus this issue continues our series on our riverkeepers. This week’s installment is written by South Riverkeeper Jesse Iliff, who describes his personal journey from legal eagle to water guardian. Day by day, our riverkeepers embody the responsibility we citizens of Chesapeake Country share: living carefully in our rich but vulnerable ecosystem.
    Perhaps America’s wilderness-taming spirit suspects the word careful as a synonym for cautious. That’s not the reality. English gives us full as a generous suffix, enabling us to take a host of words, and qualities, as our own. Just as awful is full of awe, careful is full of care. When we are careful, we put our full care to our thoughts and actions, giving care to whatever prepositional object follows that phrase.
    Thus buying,crab traps with turtle excluders — or installing them on your own — is a careful act. Watching for turtles on the road is careful. As knowledge is a step toward becoming careful, knowing the work of our riverkeeper helps make us careful. As does knowing about the National Aquarium Rescue Center.
    We can be careful without endangering our national character. The Blue Angels you’ll also read about in this issue — in preparation for their usually annual visit to Annapolis for the Naval Academy’s Commissioning Week — are anything but cautious. But you can bet those pilots are careful as their A/F 18 Hornets fly within 18 inches of another’s wingtips.
    Careful is a lovely word, adding values to our selves, recognizing value in the world around us.

Sandra Olivetti Martin
Editor and publisher; editor@bayweekly.com

A comedy of calamity and carnage set off by a kitten

Rell (Jordan Peele: Bob’s Burgers) is spiraling down: no girlfriend left, no job, lots of marijuana.
    Cousin Clarence (Keegan-Michael Key: Bob’s Burgers) isn’t faring much better. His wife walks all over him. His daughter disrespects him. Everyone makes fun of his obsession with George Michael.
    Their luck seemingly changes when a kitten arrives at Rell’s door. Adorable, playful and heartbreakingly affectionate, Keanu gives Rell reason for living. Until burglars strike. Thus Rell enlists Clarence to bring Keanu home.
    As Keanu has won the favor of a local gangland boss (Method Man: Trainwreck), Clarence and Rell go undercover as gang members. It’s a terrible plan.
    Funny, absurd and wholly entertaining, this madcap comedy comes from the creators of the brilliant sketch comedy show Key & Peele. Like the show, the movie isn’t afraid to go big with rapid-fire jokes and physical humor to ensnare you. Beneath the humor, co-writer Peele puts some light social commentary on race, morality and sex.
    To capture their easy-going dynamic and lickety-split delivery, Key and Peele chose Peter Atencio, the long-time director of their sketch show. He allows the performances to guide the film, giving the movie a sense of fun and improvisation.
    The genius animating Keanu is the familiar camaraderie between Key and Peele. Each excels: Peele as a bewildered stoner with flashes of courage, Key as the uptight straight man who goes wild once unleashed.
    The film has its faults. Plot is secondary to reactions and lines. Character is developed only on the silly side. But laziness is not among them. Key and Peele work hard to deliver their smart concepts and outlandish humor, including an inspired George Michael send-up.
    Send Key and Peele chasing a kitten, and you’ve got comedy gold.

Good Comedy • R • 100 mins.

Why today’s forbidden fish are legal tomorrow

The rockfish bite had been steady. We’d already caught and released a number of undersized fish when a big one hit Moe’s bait hard. The drag hummed as the fish ran, then turned to the side and — before I could clear the other rigs streaming aft — fouled two of the other lines. Dragging the accompanying baits and sinkers, the powerful fish continued to resist. Eventually Moe battled it to the boat and I netted it.
    That fish would have made a great morning if only it had bit after May 16, the start of the second spring season. We were just a few days shy, so the 31-inch fish went back over the side to go about its business while we sorted out the snarled mess left in its wake. All day we would not get a fish over the 35-inch minimum.
    To avoid harvesting fish carrying eggs, Maryland’s trophy rockfish season is timed by Department of Natural Resources to follow the bulk of the rockfish spawn. This year opening day (always the third Saturday in April) appears to be quite correct, for the vast majority of big females harvested this season have been empty of roe.
    Monday, May 16 begins the second phase of the spring season, when the minimum size drops from 35 to 20 inches and the possession limit increases from one fish to two, only one of which may be greater than 28 inches.
    This second phase of the spring season takes into account a couple of things. Migratory females leave the Bay for the ocean soon after spawning. Males, both resident and migratory, generally remain in the headwaters until the females stop arriving.
    That means that we’ll start seeing large (and smaller) males descending the rivers and the Bay in the next few weeks. Migratory males aren’t as big as the females, but there will still be some substantial fish in the mix. The regulatory provision for one fish over 28 inches allows anglers to bag a big striper without wearing too hard on the overall population of the fish.
    Phase two also targets our resident fish (minimum 20 inches). Rockfish born in the Chesapeake remain here for several years before becoming migratory; they are now also descending the tributaries to feed and school up in the main stem of the Bay. Their numbers are considerable and will constitute the bulk of the fish harvested by recreational and commercial anglers throughout the rest of the year.
    The last part of the rockfish season, the summer/fall season, starts June 1, when all of the tributaries are finally opened for rockfish. Creeks, streams and rivers stay off limits until June to protect both resident fish that continue to spawn through May and migratory fish that show up late (there are always a few). Rockfish season in the Chesapeake will then remain open this year through December 20.
    We caught no trophy-sized fish that May morning, but we had many encounters with lively stripers. Using large cut baits (to target big fish and avoid hooking smaller fish), we had lots of runs that resulted only in excitement. Rockfish, however, have large mouths as well as large appetites, and more than a few of the undersized fish managed to get hooked. We promptly released them, hoping at least some would grow up to be trophies.

How to control these and other web-builders

Those white webs expanding in the crotches of cherry, crabapple and Juneberry trees are made by eastern tent caterpillars. Last summer and early fall, the adults laid their eggs in these favorite trees. As the larvae emerge, they spin a web around the nest, giving it protection from the weather. In the evening, the larvae crawl out from under the web to feed on nearby tender young leaves. Just about the time the sun rises, they return to the web for protection. As the population of larvae increases and the larvae increase in size, so does the webbing of the nest.
    As long as the larvae remain under the protection of the web, they are protected from birds and the elements as well as from insecticidal sprays. You will never see birds feasting on these webs. If you poke your finger into one, you will see why birds do not bother them.
    “The defoliation usually does little damage to trees, and rarely do trees die from an infestation,” says Maryland Agriculture Secretary Joe Bartenfelder.
    The lack of damage is due to timing. Because the caterpillars hatch as soon as the young leaves unfurl in the spring, the tree has put little energy into the leaves and typically re-foliates in June, seemingly no worse for wear.
    Do not try to control the eastern tent caterpillar by torching the nests. Torching with a flaming kerosene-soaked rag tied to the end of a pole is not only dangerous but also causes permanent damage to the tree.
    The best method of control is to spray the foliage nearest the web with an organic pesticide such as Thurcide or Dipel. These pesticides contain the BT bacteria that kill the feeding larvae from the inside out. They are approved for use by organic gardeners. To obtain maximum effectiveness, apply in the evening to the foliage in the feeding area. A single application will provide protection for three to four days; it will take a few days before you see evidence of the treatment. The smaller the larvae, the better the control. As the larvae grow larger, they become more difficult to kill with BT.
    Use a fresh supply of these organic pesticides, not an unused portion from last year. Once the bottle is open, the effectiveness decreases with time. Unless you are going to be using them to control other pests in your garden, such as cabbage loopers, bagworms or corn-ear worms, purchase the smallest container possible.
    In mid to late summer, you’ll see similar webs on a wide variety of woody plants. These are created by the fall webworm. The same treatments can be used to control these pests. In July, you may also see webs on two-needle pines such as Virginia pine and mugo pine. To control the pine sawfly creating them, you’d need the hard pesticide Sevin.


Is My Compost Safe to Use?

Q I shredded some sunflowers in my composter this past fall. I forgot that they are like walnut trees and put out a mild toxin that can negatively affect other plants. Can I use this ­compost? Or should I just throw it out?

–Mike Morgan, Bowie

A The composting process destroys the enzymes that cause the allelopathic effect, so you can use your compost.


Ask Dr. Gouin your questions at DR.FRGouin@gmail.com. Please include your name and address.

With Bay Weekly’s Last-Minute Camp Guide

What to do with the kids this summer takes on new urgency as summer advances from someday to next month. So for parents, Bay Weekly’s Last-Minute Camp Guide offers solutions.
    Giving them direction is an important goal, but it’s by no means the only goal of this issue. There’s value here for each of us.
    For kids, their parents’ choice is much more than childcare. Camp is often our children’s maiden voyage into a wider world. As you’ll remember from your reading of children’s books, the adventure starts when parents are absent.
    Camps nowadays are many and varied, as you’ll see in this guide, but they all follow the no-parents rule — and in a different way than school. Teachers in most schools are legally bound in loco parentis. Camp counselors also have responsibilities of care and guidance, but they’re supposed to be buddies, too, and bring on the fun. So kids get to know almost-grown-ups in a new way. At the same time, they’re exploring new environments and developing new powers for navigating, for example, the latest highlight of outdoor camps, zip lines.
    You don’t snap on a harness and zoom through thin air in school. In camp you do, discovering new muscles, skills and dimensions to your personality. So the choices parents make for their kids’ summer camps are about more than a few days or weeks; they’re about lifetimes. This guide opens the door to hundreds of choices for parents and as many directions for kids as a tree has branches.
    For no-longer kids, this guide is fantasy camp, ­reviving memories of adventures you’ve had and opening adventures that can be yours in mind as well, perhaps, as in body.
    Read in another way, the Camp Guide makes a great short course in American Studies. Back-to-nature camps are but one variety, nowadays called traditional, of the diverse species of modern camps. Many others are skill-building camps that can be as intense as baseball’s spring training. Specialty camps range from sports, arts and crafts, drama and dance to science. Many get very specific. At Camp Hidden Meadows, for example, kids delve into GoPro Video production, culinary and performing arts, organic gardening and yoga.
    Adults can daydream of camp adventures. But kids don’t go to camp to wander Huck Finn-style in chance and imagination. We send our camp-bound kids to structured experiences designed to improve them.
    If you, like me, have been provoked by The Big Read to rediscover Tom Sawyer, you too may be feeling his envy of Huckleberry as a boy who “came and went, at his own free will.”
    That “romantic outcast … slept on doorsteps in fine weather and in empty hogsheads in wet; we did not have to go to school or to church, or call any being master or obey anybody; he could go fishing or swimming when and where he chose, and stay as long as it suited him. … In a word, everything that goes to make life precious, that boy had.”
    So send your kid to camp. But leave a little free time for the kids — and yourself as well.

Sandra Olivetti Martin
Editor and publisher; editor@bayweekly.com

Who watches the watchmen?

The Avengers have united twice to save the world. Collateral damage has been considerable. Cities have been razed, which makes the team controversial.
    Some still think of the Avengers as heroes. But fear of the omnipotents is growing. After another mission goes wrong, killing civilians, the governments of the world decide that the time of freelance superheroes has come to an end. The Avengers must submit to a multi-government regulatory committee or be classified as hostile mercenaries.
    Wracked with guilt over the deaths he’s caused both as a weapons manufacturer and as Ironman, Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.: Avengers: Age of Ultron) supports the regulatory commission. Ant Man Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) believes the team should be trusted to do what’s right. Sides are chosen.
    When a bombing kills the king of Wakanda, implicating one of the Avengers, they are soon at war with each other.
    Who will win when the greatest powers on earth collide? Worse, who will lose?
    Fast, loud and extremely entertaining, Captain America: Civil War demonstrates yet again that Marvel (and parent company Disney) are leagues ahead of rival DC at the movies. The film masterfully incorporates a complex plot, introduces two new franchises and offers enough charm to forgive the plot holes.
    You get ample time with beloved characters, including Cap, Ironman and Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson: The Jungle Book). And you get new members of the expanding Marvel Universe: ­Spider-Man (Tom Holland: In the Heart of the Sea) and Black Panther (Chadwick Boseman: Gods of Egypt). As Spider-Man, Holland accomplishes the heretofore impossible task of making Peter Parker both charming and a believable teenager. His interactions with Tony, who recruits him to the new Avengers, are some of the film’s brightest, lightest spots.
    As the vengeful prince of Wakanda, Boseman succeeds in his slightly heavier role with Black Panther, balancing anger with cocky charm. A slick costume, interesting motivation and the promise of a new country to explore help make him a likeable new ally for the Avengers.
    Tone is the film’s weak spot. It can be jarring to see these character quip and laugh one minute, then brutally beat each other. Because the film is a blockbuster-friendly PG-13, none of this violence has real consequences, and there’s barely any blood.
    Captain America: Civil War is the perfect popcorn movie, filled with action, funny lines and charismatic characters who will win over audiences and sell merchandise.

Great Action • PG-13 • 146 mins.

Plants are survivors

The spring of 2016 will be remembered as a short spring and a very short summer followed by a short fall — all within four weeks between March and April. Those 70-degree days in mid March stimulated the vegetative buds in many woody ornamentals to swell, causing the winter bud scales to drop to the ground. This left the buds susceptible to damage by freezing temperatures.
    Some Bay Weekly readers have reported buds on their hydrangeas turning brown and drooping, which has never happened before. Others have reported that the new growth on their Euonymus shrubs is turning white and wilting. Others have reported that that frosty nights have caused their American hollies to develop yellow leaves that drop to the ground. They seem to forget that hollies lose their leaves in spring as they start to grow new leaves. The difference is that this year, the transition from old to new is occurring earlier than ­normal.  
    The peach crop will most likely be sparse this year because most of the trees were in full bloom when the frost hit. Once flower petals begin to unfurl, they lose their cold-hardiness. Late-blooming varieties will produce peaches because their flower buds were still closed at the time of the last frost.
    Early asparagus spears wilted to the ground in the section of the garden where I had tilled the soil to control weeds. Where the garden was not freshly tilled and the soil was firm, the early spears were not affected. The difference is due to the heat loss from the soil, which provides frost protection. Where the surface soil was loose, there was not sufficient heat retention to provide frost protection close to the ground. I have seen similar results in gardens where the asparagus beds are mulched. The mulch prevents heat loss from the ground, resulting in the early-rising spears vulnerable to frost.
    But plants are survivors. By the first of June, everything will just about look the same, regardless of late-frost damage.

Planting Schedule
    If you are anxious to get dirt under your fingernails, this is the time for planting potatoes, onions, cabbage, broccoli, lettuce, cabbage, Chinese cabbage, radishes, kohlrabi, cauliflower, spinach and bak-choi.
    Delay planting tomatoes, peppers, melons, squash and cucumbers until the second week in May. If you are using stakes or cages to grow your tomatoes, remember to spray them thoroughly with a 10 percent bleach solution before installing them. There is evidence that spores of blight on last year’s tomato plants can over-winter on the stakes and cages.


Ask The Bay Gardener your questions at DR.FRGouin@gmail.com. Please include your name and address.

Abundance is the rule on the Argentina Plains

The first bird to approach our floating decoy spread was massive. Its seven-foot wingspread and three-foot beak were also signals that the the creature was not among our intended species. Our guide, Federico, emphasized the situation by whispering, “No tiro, est un jabiru.”
    I stumbled with my Spanish, so our guide tried his English. “No shoot, is the bird that brings the babies.”
    It was a stork. And big enough to carry quintuplets.
    Just after sunrise with temps only a bit above freezing, we were crouched in a waterfowl blind within a large natural drainage system in the La Pampa Province of the Argentina Plains. Because of the earth’s tilt on its axis in relation to the sun, the Southern Hemisphere’s seasons are opposite of the Northern Hemisphere. Our Northern spring is when their Southern duck seasons begins.
    My longtime friend and sporting partner Mike Kelly and I were in one hide, my two elder sons were in another, and Mike’s traveling companions, Jeff and Suzie Boot from the Isle of Man, were in a third.
    La Pampa is a vast, scarcely populated agricultural area with massive acreages devoted to corn, soybeans, sorghum, rice, barley, sunflowers, cattle and sheep. It greatly resembles our Midwestern Plains but with a distinction. It is more like the Midwest of a hundred years ago.
    The ecological systems of freshwater drainage ponds and lakes that in America were leveled and plowed under during the last century remain untouched in Argentina. Those two differences, fewer people and unspoiled terrain, provide vast fertile areas for birds and waterfowl. It is a bird and bird lovers’ paradise.
    We hunted (and observed) for about three hours that morning, and harvested a colorful bag of ducks that eventually included rosy-billed pochards; white-faced and fulvous whistlers; yellow-billed and white-cheeked pintails; cappuccino, speckled, cinnamon and Brazilian teals; and Chiloe widgeon. The fowl were as delicious as they were beautiful.
    The afternoons in La Pampa were devoted to dove shooting, a specialty of the Argentina Plains. A number of dove species exist there, especially the eared dove, and because of their fecundity and the mildness of the long breeding season, their populations maintain well over 100 million. One pair of doves lays only two eggs, but the fledglings emerge in little over two weeks, reach maturity quickly and produce a number of hatches themselves within the same season. That can mean hundreds of eventual offspring from the original grain-eating pair each year. To help control their numbers and alleviate pressure on agriculture, the dove-hunting season in Argentina is open year-round.
    These small birds are as delicious as the ducks. Any birds or waterfowl not consumed by our hunting party were intended for delivery to local social services by our outfitters.
    It was great to adventure in an ecological system so abundant that our activities had no discernable effect.