Tidelines – December 10, 2015
Neither of us took the time to do an actual count, but I think after 10 years of working together we are calling this Max Gaspeny’s 250th issue of Fisherman’s Post. After this issue, he’s headed to Islamorada to open a new tackle shop at the famous Bud N Mary’s Marina, where he will also be beginning a new career as an inshore guide.
The number 250 is impressive, but I’ve compiled some other calculations that are even more outstanding.
Max Gaspeny, back in 2008 before he had given Fisherman’s Post the best years of his life, with a red drum caught at the Little River jetties. This 2008 version of Max has more hair, less belly, but the same amount of attitude.
For starters, by my estimate Max has told our readers just over 118,298 times that spanish mackerel are being caught on Clarkspoons, a mere 79,356 times that flounder and red drum are hitting Gulp baits, and just 62,771 times that skirted and naked ballyhoo are producing out in the Gulf Stream.
Even better, if we total up all his years on the winter boat show circuit, he has said the following line in excess of a whopping 541,000 times: Would you like a free saltwater fishing newspaper?
When you think about those kind of numbers (all unofficial), then a decade seems even longer in Max Gaspeny years.
I know the obvious ways I will miss him. For example, who will tie my gold hook rigs when I decide to go pier fishing? And who will tell me, even though I am sitting in front of a computer with my smart phone by my side, what the offshore weather forecast is for the next couple of days?
The harder part, though, will be losing the less predictable ways Max makes my life easier. No longer will I be able to go to bed early and send Max out to represent Fisherman’s Post to party late with Adam Meyer et al when we travel to stage our annual Morehead Saltwater Fishing School. I may have to be that guy now.
And I don’t even want to think about the tax on both mind and body that would come from staying up late and then fishing early with Rob Koraly, or covering on the OBX distribution runs when he “entertains” with Ryan White.
Yes, I may be able to make the business more profitable on the money I will save on toilet paper for the office (does Max ever use his own bathroom?), but I’ve also been able to save over the years when we need to travel by putting him up in some of the cheapest and seediest hotels I could find.
Finding Max’s predecessor, as you can now imagine, has been a hiring behemoth.
Where could I find another 6’8” guy with the wingspan to single handedly move around a loaded 120 quart cooler? Is there another child of two English teachers that can crank out a product review when given the assignment less than one hour before our print deadline? Who out there would have the grit to shoulder 96% of the text in every issue of Fisherman’s Post, and still be sensitive enough to let his 40+-year-old boss sleep on the drive home from a fishing trip?
Perhaps the most important criteria, though, would be that the Max Gaspeny replacement would have to contractually promise to never ride a bike through downtown Wilmington.
So imagine the pressure Zeke Martinez, our new Managing Editor, faces. Zeke officially joined us this past week, and he knows that I’m already a little disappointed with him because, unlike Max, he doesn’t have stories of talking his friend into putting a bloody tuna head with a 9/0 hook in his lap, hopping on a kayak and paddling out through the breakers at night, all to try and catch a shark from the Pleasure Island surf.
If Zeke is to truly follow in Max’s shoes, then all he has to accomplish before he, too, leaves Fisherman’s Post one day is to help me grow the newspaper to about twice its current size, increase the number of successful events we host by over 1000%, keep me from saying or writing anything stupid about fishing that would undermine the good name of Fisherman’s Post, and become one of the better friends I’ve made in my adult life.
And that’s the bittersweet joy. I am very much looking forward to no longer being Max’s friend and boss—I’m looking forward to just being his friend; however, my friend is leaving town.
Something tells me, though, that while I already plan to have Zeke tie my gold hook rigs, I will still text Max in Florida to ask what’s the forecast for a potential offshore trip I’m trying to line up out of Oak Island in a couple of days.
