Worthings Smelt Camps

Excellent night last evening, as I went with friends Brad, Art, (and new friend) Phil down to Randolph, Maine to go smelting on the Kennebec. No pun intended--but I am hooked. Smelting combines beer, woodstoves, ice, freezing cold temperatures, great conversations, and, occasionally, fish. These are most of my favorite things anyway. Plus, you get to hang out in a little shanty, which gives us guys the impression that we are somehow in a private little "fort." And we guys love our forts.

Smelt are actually beautiful fish, and they run from the Atlantic Ocean down in Phippsburg up into Randolph/Hallowell/Augusta, etc in search of who knows what to eat. The water down in Randolph and Augusta is brackish and very tidal, and if you hit the smelt camp at the right time, you are going to make out like a bandit. Speaking of Brad, who was standing less than two feet away from all night, he did very very well. When I left at 9, I believe his count was up to 32 or so. Speaking for myself--let's just say I had not more than 29 less than Brad. Is that good rhetoric (coming from a public speaking teacher). Yes. I caught two fish.

Just a fantastic time, and we are planning on going back next Monday. Its a great activity for people of all abilities and ages. The connotation ice fishing creates--that you freeze your butt of for hours on end--is actually a misnomer when it comes to smelting. Most of the time, on the second coldest night of the year that WAS last night, we had the shanty door open, since it was too hot inside. And you can sit. And, if things are slow, I think the little box seats and tables would lend themselves well to a good round of cribbage.

Here's a great picture of our humble stove (but most of all, you get to see Art's hindparts). Even with two or three small pieces, we were being driven out of the place due to the heat!

We found this homeless guy out in the cold, and we felt bad. Being the good Lutherans we are, we invited him into the shanty for some cookies.....(over on the right, you can see the "rack" where the lines and hooks were set. You just put on some fresh sandworm, and then drop the lines into the water.....
Here are my lines. Notice all the action? My bobbers were bobbin' all night. Except they werent. Even in the brackish, tidal, and current laden river, the ice was still about 8 inches thick....
The tradition is that when you catch your first smelt, you have to bite the head off. But, since I am a soft serve, I just gave my little fish a kiss. They really are pretty fish--iridescent silver with purplish hues. And big mouths, actually. Kind of have pickerel mouths....
Me, Phil, and (the Legend) Art Carrano. Art is a master. In way too many ways to list here. Let's just leave it at that.....
The smelt camp. There are actually 83 shacks down at Worthings in Randolph. Quite the scene, actually. To be honest, it looks like a concentration camp on ice. But a much nicer one.

outside our camp. Number 21. Not much more than wooden strapping and tarps. A metal roof. It gets the job done.
Although I only caught a couple of fish, some of the guys (particularly Phil) took pity on my soul, and filled my cooler with 2o more fish. So when I got home I cleaned them all out and got them ready for eating. That part (the eating) is what I am really looking forward to.......