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Lost a great Captain today


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It does indeed.  Already planning how we can even begin to pay tribute to our lost team member during this year's Roc tourney.  Needless to say, I'm guessing there will be more than a shot or two of Pyrat downed in his honor!  He certainly had a way of getting a laugh out of us...even when he wasn't trying!

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I met him at Olcott during the derby.  Always offered advice and let you know what was working for him.  Seemed like a great guy.  My condolences to his family and fishing buddies.  Will think of him next time i am out of Olcott for sure.  RIP

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We chartered with Joe over a many times over the past 20 years and became great friends.  I learned a great deal from him, enough to buy a small boat and set out on Lake O myself.  Joe was a ball buster, came across as rough and tumble, but once you got to know him you realized what a great guy he was.  We had great conversations on our trips about everything under the sun, man he had stories, what a great storyteller.  We almost always limited out, but the best trip we ever had we got skunked.  By noon, after throwing every lure he had in his boat in the water to no avail, he came to the back of the boat, told his first mate he was the captain for the rest of the trip, and cracked the bottle of Pyrat rum I gave him as a gift that morning.  What a great time we had that afternoon!  Of course, he gave us a free charter later that year because we got skunked…Going to miss him, glad we fished with him last year.

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We chartered with Joe over a many times over the past 20 years and became great friends.  I learned a great deal from him, enough to buy a small boat and set out on Lake O myself.  Joe was a ball buster, came across as rough and tumble, but once you got to know him you realized what a great guy he was.  We had great conversations on our trips about everything under the sun, man he had stories, what a great storyteller.  We almost always limited out, but the best trip we ever had we got skunked.  By noon, after throwing every lure he had in his boat in the water to no avail, he came to the back of the boat, told his first mate he was the captain for the rest of the trip, and cracked the bottle of Pyrat rum I gave him as a gift that morning.  What a great time we had that afternoon!  Of course, he gave us a free charter later that year because we got skunked…Going to miss him, glad we fished with him last year.


That’s awesome Browning. And that is so Joe. Thanks for sharing a great story. We will all miss him.


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Bruce .. Looks like it's Pyrat and potato guns at this year's tournament! Oh man... Now I'm excited! #ripJoe


Yep Tommy Pyrat it is. Big shoes to fill. Matt , Joe showed me how to make the potato gun UNGODLY “toy”


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I think you veteran captains should start a thread and tell some stories.  Give us something to laugh about!  I appreciate reading about the guys that paved the way.  Just don't have that kind of history where I'm at....

There has been a few stories earlier. I would enjoy more as well ,,, so would Joe.


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Here is one I will always remember. Joe always went out deep first thing. For a few weeks I would start inside and then go out to where he was. One day we left a few minutes early and went deep. He called me on the way out because he did not see me inside. He asked where I was and I told him he will see me soon. When he got out there he said what the f____ are you doing in my water and laughed. He was always willing to help. 

 

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Joe, myself and 2 other team mates won the challenge cup in 1997. Oswego was the last leg. We ran down there from Rochester in his 10 meter in 4 to 7 footers it was ugly. Joe didn't go slow there was no such thing. When we got to the Oswego river i looked in the cabin and we might as well been upside down. Microwave, silverware, lures, etc etc were all on the floor. Joe looked at and said f,,, it let's go fishing, where do you want to go. I picked the deep hole out about 13 miles or so and he said are you nuts, i said the hell with it were already beat up let's go. Off we went (imagine that). We sooner got there picked a few lures and game on, all mature kings. Joe said i'll be a son of a bi,,, were coming back here tomorrow. Well we did and it was all good and got the hell out of there. Day one brought us back there, we boxed out not a boat in sight. Day 2 we had followers but not a issue got our box again. We had a older gentleman who went by the name of Old Hickory he was a outdoor writer for many years in the salmon river area. I will NEVER forget when Joe asked how how do you think we did (tournament wise) and Old Hickory said; if i was you guys i would pack your bags your'e going to Sweden. What a awesome feeling Joe looked at me with a high 5 and it was all true Sweden it was. That's another story. Love ya Joe as tears are running down my face thinking,,,,,

Edited by brucehookedup
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I think you veteran captains should start a thread and tell some stories.  Give us something to laugh about!  I appreciate reading about the guys that paved the way.  Just don't have that kind of history where I'm at....

X2 These type of campfire stories is what keeps this culture alive. Should even be a thread post it’s so important. Great idea Justin.


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Nothing more enjoyable to me than getting back from a trip where it was tough, but we get em.  The guys are excited and having a beer.  There is a bottle getting passed.  I'm filleting fish and the stories start coming.  

 

This is a story that ends just like that.  I met a young guy, Mark, from here on the forum the year before I started guiding.  He happened to be deaf and mute.  I ended up inviting him to come stay and fish as I figured it would be a good lesson on guiding.  Well it ends up being a miserable cold front and I think we only landed 1 dink tiger in 2+ hard days.  So the next year comes around and now I'm guiding so he books the whole weekend like the previous year.  Well it's the last evening and Its been probably worse than the previous year because of the pressure.  I still can't get him on anything and he has been a trooper.  I get my buddy Wayne to come drive for us so I get 3 more lines and can put more effort in to our last chance.  Wayne had fished a session or two prior with this guy and was used to communicating with a dry erase board.  It takes several days with a deaf person if you have never been around one to stop talking and instinctively write down everything but once you get the hang of it the quiet is awesome.  Well anyway before we get the first lure wet the sun finally comes out and the wind dies down and it's beautiful.  Almost instantly we get the low forties tiger he came for and then walleye start coming with the best one 10lbs on the nose.  I get some great pics of him with his fish as the sun sets and we all are enjoying this magical evening.  We get back and up until now I've never seen either Mark or Wayne drink whiskey, but when I get it out for myself they surprise me and dive right in with me.  I must not have been keeping up with the drinking because I was filleting and I wasn't part of the conversation as they weren't showing me the board, but somehow near the bottom of the bottle Wayne stopped writing and started doing a version of sign language that included getting very loud, as that helps with deaf people, that mark somehow understood.  Mark then learned to makes some noises that you wouldn't call talking exactly but Wayne sure acted like he understood fine.  I took away the bottle and finished it while watching the two of them "TELL" stories as they were two drunk to read and write.  Somewhere along the way the details of the end of the night slip away from my memory as well, but I'm certain we "TALKED" for hours.  

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Nothing more enjoyable to me than getting back from a trip where it was tough, but we get em.  The guys are excited and having a beer.  There is a bottle getting passed.  I'm filleting fish and the stories start coming.  
 
This is a story that ends just like that.  I met a young guy, Mark, from here on the forum the year before I started guiding.  He happened to be deaf and mute.  I ended up inviting him to come stay and fish as I figured it would be a good lesson on guiding.  Well it ends up being a miserable cold front and I think we only landed 1 dink tiger in 2+ hard days.  So the next year comes around and now I'm guiding so he books the whole weekend like the previous year.  Well it's the last evening and Its been probably worse than the previous year because of the pressure.  I still can't get him on anything and he has been a trooper.  I get my buddy Wayne to come drive for us so I get 3 more lines and can put more effort in to our last chance.  Wayne had fished a session or two prior with this guy and was used to communicating with a dry erase board.  It takes several days with a deaf person if you have never been around one to stop talking and instinctively write down everything but once you get the hang of it the quiet is awesome.  Well anyway before we get the first lure wet the sun finally comes out and the wind dies down and it's beautiful.  Almost instantly we get the low forties tiger he came for and then walleye start coming with the best one 10lbs on the nose.  I get some great pics of him with his fish as the sun sets and we all are enjoying this magical evening.  We get back and up until now I've never seen either Mark or Wayne drink whiskey, but when I get it out for myself they surprise me and dive right in with me.  I must not have been keeping up with the drinking because I was filleting and I wasn't part of the conversation as they weren't showing me the board, but somehow near the bottom of the bottle Wayne stopped writing and started doing a version of sign language that included getting very loud, as that helps with deaf people, that mark somehow understood.  Mark then learned to makes some noises that you wouldn't call talking exactly but Wayne sure acted like he understood fine.  I took away the bottle and finished it while watching the two of them "TELL" stories as they were two drunk to read and write.  Somewhere along the way the details of the end of the night slip away from my memory as well, but I'm certain we "TALKED" for hours.  

That’s special right there.


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1 hour ago, brucehookedup said:

I guess there is no more Thunder stories to share???

You know better than that Bruce...we could talk about the time that we had to leave him on the boat when we went to weigh in...because we MAY have poured his drinks a bit stronger than he was accustomed to.  Or the time that we fished so hard, that he ended up in the hospital because he cut himself on your God damned rodholder going for a fish.  Bleeding like a stuck pig...non-stop, and what does he do?!  Looks at us and tells us to get the f'ing rods back in the water!  Or the time that he and I were busting your balls because our sorry asses are so used to our big boats, that a two foot chop was killing us in, what he would call, "your toy boat".  Or the time that Randy and I introduced him to my patented "adult ice cream" cones...of which he couldn't get enough the entire time we were in Sodus!  The stories with that guy...they'll never end!

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I didn't know Joe but from the comments and stories here I have respect for him because the true measure of a man is the way in which he is regarded by family, friends, co-workers and colleagues. The personal esteem, affection, and respect that are embedded in the stories say volumes about him. It is surely the way that someone would wish to be remembered. May he RIP.

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