Morning On The Deerfield Beach Pier

By James P. Goss

As a small South Florida city, Deerfield Beach has many notable attractions. One of them is the International Fishing Pier. Depending on the season, schools of small fish cluster among the pilings, while along the ocean bottom stingrays, tarpon, turtles and moon jellyfish swim slowly by. Schools of baitfish swirl below and cloud the water.

On some mornings, the outer end of the pier is crowded with fishermen, hunched over the railings with their tackle and gear. Down below, the small bodies of fish fleck the water with silver, while larger fish breach the surface in a slow curving motion.

If there is a noticeable shift of energy in the air, this usually means some very large fish have arrived. This day, the excitement builds quickly when the bonita are running.

“Vinny, can we get a line soon?” a fisherman asked one recent morning. Vinny is a large man—larger than most of the others standing nearby. A bright bandana wrapped low on his forehead, Vinnie focused on his fishing line sloping over the railing, where it sagged into the water.

Nearby, the fishermen’s casts made a low whir, followed by a faint tuck, tuck as lures dropped beneath the water’s surface. The sound shifted as the mood in the air changed, from mild indifference to anticipation to high animation.

A man in flip-flops ran toward the fishermen huddled near the hut. The men were gathering more closely together, their five-gallon buckets, tackle boxes, nets, buoys, rolling bait tanks, coolers, and various unused fishing rods standing at the ready nearby. On a bollard, a curious grackle pecked at a plastic bag of shrimp.

“Get back! Get back! Get back!” one man shouted, his voice full of urgency, while another wheeled his cart of bucket and fishing rods toward the focal point of activity. Two fishermen had reeled in a bonita, which flopped desperately on the sun-splashed deck.

A grizzled fisherman in the crowd spoke to his friend, a middle-aged woman with a towel draped over her head. “I want you to take this fish home to your mother,” he said, approaching the two anglers, offering pliers to cut the lure.

Perhaps he knew the two men. Or he was somehow skilled enough to strike a quick arrangement with them: the gift of their catch. “It’s good to do things for others,” he said to the woman. When she asked what kind of fish it was, he told her, “It’s a bonita,” adding a translation: “Beautiful.”

Carrying the dead fish in a plastic bag, the woman left the pier to walk into town. The mood on the pier remained energized. More fish were caught, the bonita piling up. A man yelled, “I’ve never seen so many fish on one pier!”

An online fishing report said that boat catches offshore in varied depths of water were netting swordfish and mahi-mahi. And on the pier, the fishermen continued to feel the optimism that accompanies a beautiful day on the water.

For information, go to www.deerfield-beach.com.