Historian's Corner



Charlene Cole
Sandy Creek/Lacona Historian
Historian's Corner
August 28, 2014

Photo: A day’s catch at Ontario Bay

The following essay appeared in the Sandy Creek News of September 8, 1910 and may have been written by Eugene Bartlett, father of Perry Bartlett who was Lake Shore correspondent at that time.

Pickerel Fishing Brought Anglers to Sandy Pond for Labor Day 1910:
Many people are aware of the fact that in order to maintain our pickerel fishing, we will of necessity secure the enactment of a law which shall make it illegal to possess pickerel under twenty inches in length, to allow one person to catch only 5 or one boat eight in one day; also, to prohibit the shipping of pickerel from southern Jefferson and Oswego Counties. Talk it over with your neighbors, think upon it and see if you do not think that five pickerel would be quite enough for one man to kill in one day. A twenty inch pickerel weighs one pound and eight or nine ounces, one twenty and one half inches long weighs one pound and ten ounces. A pickerel’s head is a little more than one fourth of his entire length. The remaining parts of a small pickerel are mostly bone.

Yes, pickerel is king! He is to Ontario Bay what the lion is to the forests of Africa, the polar bear to the ice bound coasts of Greenland, the jaguar to the jungles of South America, king! In commemoration of the crowning of this aquatic monarch representatives of the various anglers association from county and hamlet, from village and city, met on Labor Day upon the shores of Ontario Bay. What a motley throng: the Teuton, the Slav, the Saxon, the Norseman were represented by their descendents who laid aside their toil stained garments and donned their choicest apparel to attend the celebration of Labor Day. Here at the boarding house we find the tall thin man tinkering with his fishing gear; the small fat man examining his landing net and gaff hook; the big fat man consulting his watch and wondering when that oarsman will appear. That group of men upon the shore who are looking toward that wooded point on Seber Shores are listening to that oarsman, with his sleeves rolled up, while he relates how upon various occasions he has hooked big ones off that point. Now he is telling about that 18 pounder that he hooked off the outlet. Note the distance that he holds his hands apart while he measures the length of this young whale.

Look at our right, see that straight, robust, soldiery looking man; he is bedecked in royal style. A dozen or more spoons are dangling upon the breast of his coat. These and a host of others have arrived at the mecca of their dreams. From the time that they leave our shores, at the close of Labor Day, until the return of another Labor Day, these wage earners look forward to another Labor Day in joyous anticipation of fruitful experience with the king of Ontario Bay.

For several days before coming here these men talked pickerel by day and dreamed of pickerel by night. Labor Day marks an epoch in the life history of some of these men. The man who is so fortunate to hook and land a twelve or sixteen pounder never forgets the exciting experience. He remembers how his great stiff bamboo pole was bent into a hoop in an instant; how, before he had time to recover the first shock, that he looked back only to see his prize higher than the boat in the air trying to shake the hooks from his hatchel like jaws. How his oarsman shouted to look out for that rascal and not let him get any slack for he will surely shake the hooks loose if he gets slack. How he cautioned him to keep a gentle strain on the fish and to keep him from under the boat if possible and how after a long exciting struggle they tired the old fellow out so that they succeeded in bringing him to gaff. He remembers, and always will, how proud he felt when he realized that the prize was in the boat and that the last chance of escape had disappeared. He inwardly rejoices because he followed carefully the instruction given by the oarsman. When he returns home he lays his fish upon a smooth planed board and marks with a pencil all the way around the fish so that he can see and show others in time to come the form of the prize he drew from the far famed waters of Lake Ontario.

Charlene Cole
Sandy Creek/Lacona Historian
1992 Harwood Drive
Sandy Creek, NY 13145
315-387-5456 x7
office hours: Friday 9am to 2pm
www.sandycreeknyhistory.com