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The big fish are here, with anglers on their tails

As our boat, Downtime, approached the Bay Bridge spans, I glanced back at the trolling setup just in time to see the portside rod slam down hard in its holder. Tim Levandoski, an eager angler visiting from upstate New York, rushed to grab the straining outfit. He could barely hold it vertical while line poured off the reel against the drag.
    Welcome to the Chesapeake, I thought, as a broad smile illuminated the face of an angler accustomed to the pull of the five- and six-pound freshwater bass of his home state. Fifteen minutes later, but only after considerable effort, he hoisted up a muscular 36-inch, 20-plus-pound rockfish for some photos.
    That handsome catch was made the last practice day before trophy rockfish season. A stellar opening day followed on April 19. The last half-dozen years, opening day has been plagued by nasty winds and wretched seas. This year’s version was sunny and calm, and the catches impressive.
    Success spread over a wide area including Love Point, the Bay Bridge, Gum Thickets, the mouth of Eastern Bay, Bloody Point, over to Hackett’s and down to Chesapeake Beach, then to Solomons. Our waters are full of migratory stripers, and they are hungry.
    Early reports included a couple of 50-plus-pound fish. A 47-incher (that took a white bucktail) was caught by Jim Aherns on the Pollyann to win the 13th Annual Boatyard Bar & Grill Opening Day Tournament.
    Nice-sized fish seem to dominate the storyline all over the Bay.
    Angler’s Sport Center has weighed in quite a few hefty stripers for citation (40 inches or over), more than I ever remember, and I’ve heard of no throwbacks.
    Trolling typically dominates the early season tactical scenario with boats working the main stem of the Chesapeake. Larger lures such as parachutes rigged with nine- and 12-inch sassy shads (white or chartreuse) are taking large fish, while big umbrella rigs in the same colors have accounted for a few giants.
    Fishing the top 20 feet of the water column is key during the early season, but dragging a few baits deep for insurance makes sense. Working across the cavernous shipping channels all the way past the shallower edges and keeping trolling speeds to under three knots are also part of the drill. Early morning hours are usually heavily weighted with success as daytime boat traffic eventually scatters the fish or drives them deeper.
    Bait fishing is taking increasingly larger numbers of trophy stripers as well this early season as the method continues to become more popular. Fishing fresh-cut bait or bloodworms on the bottom has been surprisingly effective in the same areas that have traditionally been productive only later in the year. The most productive spots are around the mouths of the major tributaries for boat anglers; Matapeake and Sandy Point state parks, or any accessible shoreline on the Bay proper, for land-based sports.
    The opening day of Maryland’s Rockfish Trophy Season is designated by state law as the third Saturday in April. The timing is planned to avoid large female fish still trying to reproduce.
    The result of our unusually long and cold winter, however, is that many of the trophy-sized females landed so far this season are still bulging with roe. Because of the unusually low water temperatures, the spawn has been delayed and extended.
    Prudent anglers will refrain from harvesting these gravid fish, releasing them and choosing to take only the males and spawned-out females. Returning big roe-bearing fish — easily carrying a half-million eggs — to the Bay to complete their spawns will benefit future rockfish populations.

A higher price than we’ll like paying

Are we doing enough?    
    Reader Frank Allen’s answer to my Earth Day Is Our Birthday question, which you’ll read below in Your Say, praises the progress we’ve made in recycling. He’s right, and like his, our household and office delight in steering recyclables out of our almost empty trashcans into our yellow cans. At home, food waste nourishes our soil and garden. Or, if it’s meat, our dog Moe.
    That change in our nature is one big step, but it isn’t enough.
    We’d make more big steps if each of us adapted and advocated six or eight of the 10 best environmental practices writer Emily Myron gathered from around the world for our Earth Day report last week.
    But we’d still not be doing enough.
    I reached that conclusion after hearing the heap of facts piled by scientist Bert Drake. Drake is no remote talking head. He’s one of us, rooted in Southern Anne Arundel County for 40 years at home and work, the latter at Smithsonian Environmental Research Center in Edgewater.
    Our consciousness-changing generation is like the point of a pencil that’s been writing for centuries. All the carbon-releasing humans have done throughout our past is written in our atmosphere. It started, Drake says, with cutting down trees. Over the years we’ve gotten better and better at it. Nowadays, we’re expert. Our marks are thick and black.
    One way and another, each of us Americans is responsible for flooding the atmosphere with 20 tons of carbon dioxide a year. That, Drake says, amounts to five African elephants a year.
    All those elephant-weights of carbon dioxide are about to stomp around the planet and make us very uncomfortable.
    Our marks are thick and black — but not quite indelible.
    In a Bay Weekly conversation in this week’s paper, Drake tells us how we can begin to make a difference.
    You may not like what he says to say.
    Burning less carbon is the remedy.
    He also prescribes getting over our aversion to nuclear power for immediate gains, adding alternative fuel sources at the same time.
    Capturing and releasing carbon dioxide underground in old coal mines, oil and gas fields.
    Paying for the energy switch over with a new tax on all fossil-fuel energy production that forces the adoption of newer, more efficient, cleaner technology.
    Raising the price of gas so we’ll have incentives to reduce its use wherever we can — especially in our cars, trucks and lawnmowers — also helps make up for necessary uses of gas, like flying airplanes.
    Another Bay Weekly reader, Shirley Little of Annapolis, exemplifies how little many of us will like Drake’s remedy. It hurts too much to pay, she writes in Your Say (below) of Anne Arundel County’s storm water capture fees.
    Her complaints are understandable. Why should big polluters pay no more than she? How will people on fixed incomes manage another tax?
    We had had better figure out how to give her tolerable answers. Because the alternatives — exempting ourselves and polluting more — are intolerable, whether we’re talking storm water or carbon dioxide pollution.
    Our flush tax to clean up sewage water costs Marylanders $64 a year. Anne Arundel’s storm water capture tax costs Shirley and me — and most households — another $85. What we might pay individually to control carbon dioxide I don’t know. The big picture, however, seems a lot less weighty than Drake’s elephants:
    “The most recent Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change report on mitigation concludes that this can be done for a cost that will reduce growth no more than 0.06 percent a year,” Drake says. “Instead of 2 percent growth, that’s 1.96 percent growth.”
    Not likeable, but doable. That’s the cost of doing enough.

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

Help give their migration a future

Since the last Ice Age, monarch butterflies have followed the path of the glaciers in their annual migration. The orange and black creatures are more fragile than the magnolia blossoms now in their short season. Yet in September, tens of thousands of monarchs fly from the midlands of the United States all the way to southern Mexico.
    Again this spring, they rise from the oyamel fir trees to reverse their migration. Those seasoned long-distance fliers reach the southern U.S. before their lives and wings are worn out. By then they’ve laid the eggs of the next generation. The grandchildren of those migrators will reach Canada this summer. Their great-grandchildren will be this season’s Mexican migrators.
    Ours could be the last human generation to witness this epic migration.
    Or we can enlist in the army of revival. The company is good, the purpose inspiring and the story an epic in its own right.
    Until the second half of the last century, no human knew where the monarchs went.
    To solve that mystery University of Toronto zoologist Fred Urquhart and wife Norah formed a continental army. Using a print network of newspapers and books, they recruited volunteers to capture, tag and recover the migrating monarchs.
    One of their hundreds of recruits, Elmer Dengler of Bowie, now wants to enlist you.
    Your first mission won’t be as demanding as Dengler’s. A southeastern Pennsylvania boy who saw the Urquharts’ appeal in a library book, he bred and tagged 1,000 monarchs in a single summer.
    “I got a report back from Dr. Urquhart that one of mine was captured on the Gulf of Mexico in Alabama less than 30 days after I’d released it,” Dengler told Bay Weekly.
    Retired now from a career that took him around the nation as an environmental systems manager, he returned to, he says, “the insect that sparked my career.”
    “The current migrating monarch population is as low as two percent of original levels,” he reports. “Time has almost run out.”
    Loss of habitat is the force pushing extinction. Development, illegal logging and agribusiness threaten the monarch caterpillar’s only food: milkweed.
    Reversing those trends on fronts from planting to policy is the mission of a new continental army organized under Monarch Watch.
    Michelle Obama has already signed on, planting a pollinator garden at the White House. The presidents and prime ministers of Canada, Mexico and the United States have joined forces to create monarch-saving policy.
    Dengler’s mission for you is planting one of thousands of monarch butterfly way-stations.
    “As long as you have a patio or more in terms of sunny outside area,” he says, “you can help the monarchs.”
    Working with the Bowie-Crofton Garden Club, Dengler has assembled kits of 11 monarch-friendly plants for the group’s April 26 plant sale.
    “The butterflies are first attracted to the nectar plants,” he says. “After feeding, they slow down enough to notice the food source plants for their caterpillars and begin to lay eggs.”
    At the sale, you’ll learn all about planting your way-station. But, Dengler advises, “the 50 kits will go early.”
    Learn more about protecting monarchs at www.monarchwatch.org.
    Shop the Bowie-Crofton Garden Club sale Saturday, April 26, 8:30am to noon at Bowie Library. Kits $25: www.bcgardenclub.org.

You won’t want to go through this looking glass

Software developer Alan Russell (Rory Cochrane: Parkland) moves wife and children to a country house after hitting it big. Decorating it becomes his downfall.
    An antique mirror known as the Lasser Glass speaks to him. Alas, this is no ordinary reflective surface. A host to evil souls and supernatural forces, the mirror drives Allan and his wife, Marie (Katee Sackhoff: Longmire) insane.
    Reader, this is why you should shop at IKEA.
    Police find Alan and Marie dead and their two children, Kaylie and Tim, raving about an evil mirror. Tim is sent to a ward for the criminally insane. Kaylie goes to foster care.
    At 21, Tim (Brenton Thwaites: Blue Lagoon: The Awakening) is declared sane. He goes into the world hoping to leave his troubled past behind.
    Kaylie (Karen Gillan: Doctor Who) is not so committed to her brother’s mental health.
    Consumed with rage, she has made it her mission to track down and destroy the Lasser Glass. She has an elaborate plan to steal the mirror, record its supernatural properties and smash it so that the evil can’t spread. Tim reluctantly follows Kaylie to their childhood home. Hanging the mirror to taunt the evil is not a good idea.
    The plot is thin, the lead performances strong and the gore thick.
    If you are at all squeamish, you will writhe in your seat. Though the gore certainly earns the film its R rating, director and native Marylander Mike Flanagan (Absentia) uses it for maximum tension. See Oculus in a theater, where you’re part of a screaming audience.

Good Horror • R • 104 mins.

Bright planets and shooting stars dazzle this week

As the sun sets, Jupiter shines high in the southwest, smack-dab in the middle of the constellation Gemini, its bright stars Castor and Pollux a few degrees away toward the celestial zenith. By midnight the king of the planets hovers above the horizon and sets within another hour.
    By that time, Mars is high in the south. Just days past opposition, the red planet is visible from dusk until dawn. It is also at its closest to Earth in six years. If you have a telescope, you’ll want to aim it at our planetary neighbor, which won’t appear so large in a view-piece again for two years. Mars shines in the constellation Virgo, with its blue-white alpha star Spica trailing by 10 degrees. As daybreak arrives, they are low against the west horizon.
    In the hour before sunrise, Venus dominates the east, brighter than anything but the sun and moon. The Morning Star doesn’t climb high above the horizon, which only adds to its splendor as its light shimmers and sparkles like a kaleidoscope as it passes through Earth’s atmosphere.
    The dark hours between Tuesday and Wednesday mark the peak of this year’s Lyrid Meteor Shower. The best viewing is between midnight and daybreak, when you might spot up to 20 meteors an hour, some with long trails burning for several seconds. The waning crescent moon rises around 3am and could dampen the showing. But keep your eyes peeled through the week when errant meteors could still streak across the sky.

Bright planets and shooting stars dazzle this week

As the sun sets, Jupiter shines high in the southwest, smack-dab in the middle of the constellation Gemini, its bright stars Castor and Pollux a few degrees away toward the celestial zenith. By midnight the king of the planets hovers above the horizon and sets within another hour.
    By that time, Mars is high in the south. Just days past opposition, the red planet is visible from dusk until dawn. It is also at its closest to Earth in six years. If you have a telescope, you’ll want to aim it at our planetary neighbor, which won’t appear so large in a view-piece again for two years. Mars shines in the constellation Virgo, with its blue-white alpha star Spica trailing by 10 degrees. As daybreak arrives, they are low against the west horizon.
    In the hour before sunrise, Venus dominates the east, brighter than anything but the sun and moon. The Morning Star doesn’t climb high above the horizon, which only adds to its splendor as its light shimmers and sparkles like a kaleidoscope as it passes through Earth’s atmosphere.
    The dark hours between Tuesday and Wednesday mark the peak of this year’s Lyrid Meteor Shower. The best viewing is between midnight and daybreak, when you might spot up to 20 meteors an hour, some with long trails burning for several seconds. The waning crescent moon rises around 3am and could dampen the showing. But keep your eyes peeled through the week when errant meteors could still streak across the sky.

Here’s the right way to till the garden

Just because you have a rototiller or a Mantis doesn’t mean you have to till your soil until it is pulverized into dust. The more you till the soil, the more damage you do to its structure. The finer you pulverize the soil, the faster its organic matter is destroyed.
    Here’s how to do the job right.
    Pray for perfect conditions, as soil should never be tilled when too wet or too dry.
    Till the soil no more than twice before planting vegetables in the spring. One shallow tilling in the fall is all that’s needed before planting cover crops. If your soil has a cover crop of rye or wheat, mow it as close to the ground as possible to pulverize the vegetation. To till, set the tines at a depth of three inches for the first pass through the garden to kill the roots of the cover crop and expose the soil to the drying sun and wind. Allow three to five days before the second tilling, hoping it doesn’t rain during this drying-out period.
    Before tilling the garden a second time, set the tines to a depth of five inches and till the garden perpendicular to the direction of the first tilling. This pattern ensures a more uniform tilling and reduces the potential of compacting the pan layer of soil below the tilled layer.
    If your soil test recommendations call for amending with limestone, compost or fertilizers, apply them prior to the first tilling. As limestone is very slow in reacting in cold soils, the first tilling should be done as early in the spring as possible and the second tilling delayed one and a half to two weeks. This technique allows for the lime to react and begin correcting the pH.
    Care in tilling the soil reduces the loss of organic matter. Increasing the organic matter requires the addition of compost or animal manure. Many garden problems can be avoided by maintaining your soil’s organic matter concentration at five percent or above.


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

That was pretty cool!

Rock musical and Andrew Jackson make a logical theatrical fit when you think about it: arrows cutting people down in mid-sentence; the scandal of marrying a married woman; a “people’s president” who strengthens the power of his office — yet sparks the creation of the Democratic party while crafting his image to get what he wants. There’s a lot of stage-worthy material to be mined from the life of our seventh president, and Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson reaches deep. What emerges is a loud, profane, politically incorrect, funny and raucous show that offers daunting challenges to any company daring to stage it.
    The Theatre at Anne Arundel Community College surmounts most of those challenges, offering a lively and enjoyable production overall. One big plus: A talented and tight rock combo nestled upstage. They adeptly accompany screaming rock and quiet ballads. I’d love to credit them but, curiously, their names do not appear in the program. 
    As Andrew Jackson, Vincent Capuano plays at both ends of the hit-and-miss spectrum. He has a commanding stage presence, a good voice and knows his subject, both as history and as written by the playwrights. But he misses a few of the screamin’ rock ‘n’ roll high notes early on, though his voice warmed up as the show progressed.
    In Act II of this second night of the run, he carried a script. There are a lot of legitimate reasons that can happen — usually an actor has taken on a role late in production after another actor leaves. No explanation was offered, so there will be no judgment here. But those paying $20 a ticket may have done some judging. To his credit, Capuano didn’t seem to miss a beat. Here’s hoping the break between weekends eliminates the on-stage book because Capuano’s talent deserves to be unleashed in this role.
    Jennie Woods excels as Rachel Jackson, Andrew’s wife. Her comic timing is sharp, and she is equally adept at drama. Her pleasant voice is perfectly matched to her songs, which is another way of saying she is so talented she makes them her own. Rachel grounds her rock star husband. Woods likewise gives substance to this production, adding heart to the zaniness.
    The rest of the cast commits to each role, often playing several. They have a blast doing it, yet director Dr. Lars Tatom’s guidance has set clear parameters so that they resist the temptation to go too far in a very over-the-top show. That makes it a lot easier for the audience to go along for the ride.
    What isn’t easy on the audience is, too often, the sound. By definition, a rock musical is going to be loud, and there are times when the college sound system and acoustics, clearly not built for such volume, erupt into painful distortion. When the entire chorus gets going, with all those body mikes fighting for radio frequency, the din often drowns the words. 
    When’s the last time you went to a rock concert and heard all the words? Still had fun, didn’t you?
    That’s how to approach Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson. It’s a fun show, performed by a talented cast. Like any rock concert it has its hits and misses. But you walk out, ears ringing, saying that was pretty cool.

Director and producer: Lars Tatom. Music director: Aaron Smith. Choreographer: Tommy Parlon. Stage manager: Brittany Adams.

Playing April 17-19, ThFSa 8pm at Kauffman Theatre, Anne Arundel Community College, Arnold. $20 w/discounts; rsvp: 410 777-2457; boxoffice@aacc.edu.

It’s a shame to let April end with no pickerel

Long, lean and equipped with a mouthful of needle-sharp teeth and a nasty attitude, the chain pickerel, sometimes called the water wolf, is the acknowledged king fish of winter. Most other Tidewater species become sleepy and lethargic at lower temperatures. The water wolf seems energized by the chill.
    This past winter season was so frigid and foul that I never managed a single dance with these sly devils. I remedied that recently on the first decent day in months.
    With the water still cold, the fish are grouped to feed on spawning perch and herring. As the water warms, the pickerel will spawn, then spread out in singles and melt into thicker cover.
    We fished the Eastern Shore, but you can find pickerel higher up in most of the tributaries and creeks around the Chesapeake.
    These members of the pike family are ambush predators. You’ll sometimes encounter them cruising in open water, but this time of year it’s more productive to target trees fallen into the water (laydowns), submerged brush, piers, the shorelines of coves, the edges of floating debris, jetties and rocky edges.
    We were using a small gold spoon with a lip-hooked bull minnow. The flash of the spoon — plus the undulating action it gives the minnow as you slowly retrieve — draws smashing strikes. Pickerel will hit either a minnow or a spoon alone, but the two in tandem are especially deadly. As another benefit, the metal spoon generally keeps your line away from the teeth of the fish so you don’t need a leader. Anglers also employ spinner baits such as large Rooster Tails, Mepps, smaller sized Rat-L-Traps and similar crank baits. Our gear was light, six-foot spinning rods with four- and six-pound line.

Give and Take
    We had action as soon as we hit the water. My buddy Moe had the first fish, a big one, right next to us after a considerable battle. During the fight, it managed to open the small snap securing Moe’s lure. With a couple of headshakes at boatside, the fish escaped with my friend’s six dollar spoon sparkling from the edge of its smile.
    Mine was the next hookup, and it felt like a real giant. It came away from the shore pulling deep with steady pressure and passed by us, unconcerned, on the way out to open water. I wasn’t sure it knew it was hooked.
    I increased the drag tension as the fish slowly pulled out line. Only then did it shake its head for the first time. My line went slack. Retrieving my spoon and ravaged minnow, I could only surmise that my hook point had never penetrated the fish’s mouth. When the beast suspected deception, it had simply spit out the offending morsel.
    We kept at it through a subsequent slump, finally hitting pay dirt an hour later while working submerged brush. After landing three nice fish, we keyed on similar structure along the shoreline and drew regular strikes and frothy battles over the next four hours.
    The iridescent green rockets occasionally went airborne, clearing the surface and giving us a good look at their lethal profiles and fearsome dentures. Our fish that day averaged about 20 inches; we stopped counting after 15 splashing encounters.
    A 24-inch pickerel is citation-size and gives an outsized battle. A 14-incher is rather lightweight though still a legal keeper.

Your Turn
    Chain pickerel will continue to haunt submerged structure and cruise the tributaries and impoundments until the end of April, or as long as the white perch runs last, so you can still get in on the action.
    Take a net as pickerel are impossible to handle without one. They are also extremely slippery. You can control them somewhat in the boat by gripping them by the eye sockets (it doesn’t harm their eyes). It’s probably best to leave them in the net until they’re unhooked and ready for release. Never forget about their teeth, which are needle-sharp and abundant.

A Poor Meal
    The down side to the pickerel is in its table quality. It’s got lots of bones, many very fine. The fish are far more valuable swimming than in the frying pan.

21 years into the culture of sustainable, new Bay times

Weather has a long memory. The cold rain pelting as I write takes me back to Earth Day 21 years ago, when New Bay Times Vol. I No. 1 was delivered to Chesapeake Country under just such a soaking.
    We chose Earth Day for our birthday for its significance, not for the weather.
    In New Bay Times, we signified a new era in Chesapeake time. I got to explain what we meant many times before we simplified to Bay Weekly on our seventh birthday in 2000. By then we’d become New Bay Times Weekly. That was a mouthful as well as ambiguous, but the message was true: New Bay times — and new Earth times — were dawning.
    Earth Day turned 23 the day New Bay Times made its appearance.
    By Earth Day 1993, the notion that even Mother Earth’s resources were finite had had a quarter century to sink in. Conservationists had known that truth and its consequences much longer than the rest of us. Changing a nation’s mind, and then its behavior, is heavy lifting. The more you’ve got to change, the longer it takes.
    When we get into cars nowadays, most of us buckle our seatbelts. Adopting that routine has been a big change. But it’s only one click. Simple compared to adapting to new Earth, and new Bay times.
    Earth Day began in festive spirits, with kites and balloons, sweet sentiments and picnics in the grass.
    The organized restoration of the Chesapeake, a decade old when New Bay Times was born, began in the same spirit of optimism. We’d get there before long, most expected.
    Twenty-one years later, we’re catching on, stepping up to new Bay times in ways small and large.
    In 1993, recycling was a bandwagon just getting rolling. Nowadays, 60 percent of households in Anne Arundel County roll out their yellow recycling bins for weekly pickup. The bins are ever larger because each week we’re recycling more. Recycling has become a habit, and we do it even where it’s not at our curbside, as in Calvert County, where citizens dutifully tote their recycling to county convenience centers.
    Household energy improvements have grown from small, smart investments to an energy-wise culture. From little steps like caulking and weather-stripping, many of us have taken big steps to energy-smart solar and geo­thermal systems. We do it for our planet and our Bay, as well as for our pocketbooks.
    Sewage treatment plants have gone through two or three generations of technological improvement since 1993. Even household septic systems are becoming sophisticated water treatment plants for the sake of preserving the Chesapeake.
    As well as our own water, we’re learning to manage nature’s water, like the stormwater that fell on April 15. Rain barrels are so commonplace now that you can choose from an assortment at your local hardware store. We all know what rain gardens are, and many of us install them, filling them with native plants because we’ve learned their resilience and value.
    Slowly but surely, we’re all changing our ways. And if we’re not, since 1993 a generation of kids has been educated to be better environmental stewards than us.
    Have we changed enough, done enough?
    Probably not.
    For Bay restoration, 2025 doesn’t seem time enough.
    Climate change — a distant concept back in 1993 — has caught up with us.
    At Earth Day 2014, now is our time to change the ways we think and act. To start, as it were, buckling our environmental seatbelt.
    Twenty-one years in, Bay Weekly remains committed to illuminating ways we can live up to the responsibilities of the new Bay and new Earth times we’re living.
    You see that commitment in our stories.
    This week, contributor Emily Myron introduces Ten Smart Ways to Help Our Planet and Your Purse. For another, read this week’s Creature Feature and learn how your garden can be a way-station in the monarch butterfly’s survival.

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