Davies Active Angler at 89

Queenstown.
BALTIMOREAN Willard Boehm and I drove down here to chat with the most amazing fisherman I've met in my many years on the water. He hadn't set any world's records with his catches, he wasn't a champion tournament caster, nor had he invented a new, sure fire fishing bait - or anything like that. But, the object of our junket was John F. Davies, who at 89 years of age, spends more time on the water than most men half his age.

When Mr. Boehm and I arrived, Mr. Davies was planning a fishing trip to Ocean City, and not a leisurely one either. He intended to go surf casting. Moreover, he was about to check up on the progress being made on a 35-foot boat he's having built for his frequent trips out on the Chesapeake. And, if that isn't enough, what about the way he fishes the bay. He prefers fly casting to rockfish.

Before I had the chance to express astonishment at such doings for a man more than twice my age, he talked of things I'd have found hard to believe had not Mr. Boehm nodded to their authenticity.

Things like the numerous dove hunts, walking the fields for quail, and waterfowl gunning on blustery days - all that from an ardent sportsman who first went afield 81 years ago.

To look at Mr. Davies, it's difficult to believe he was born in 1878. He's agile, walks with a bounce, and can talk outdoor life. with as much enthusiasm as anyone you've ever met.

His recollections are so interesting, you can spend a half a day with him without so much as looking at your watch.

I was fascinated by his memories of rail bird hunting back at the turn of the century. Those were the days when railbirding was a big sport. The limit then was 50 a day, you could engage a pusher for $1.50 a tide out of the old Marlborough Hotel near the Patuxent River. If you failed to get your limit on the high tide the birds were so plentiful you could "walk" the mud for them, as he put it.

The hotel packed the hunters' lunches, and included in each one of them was a pint of whisky. But, the spirits weren't for the gunners. They were placed in the basket to provide the pusher with a nip to periodically rejuvenate his enthusiasm.

There were no limits on ducks back in the early days afield for Mr. Davies - and he can recall the cries of anguish when the bag was later set at 50 a day. Bedlam broke loose when baiting was first outlawed, he said.

There were days when he took a trolley car to Brooklyn from his Baltimore home with a rod or handline in one hand and a basket in the other. The fare was 5 cents to Acton's Park where he ventured out on the pier to fish for blues with garden worms. Rockfish could be caught at Fort Howard then, and there was always a trolley ride home with a basket of fish.

Fishermen could fish for breaking trout of 4 to 8 pounds off Gibson Island, Belvedere Shoals and the Dumping Grounds. You could catch all the big hardheads you wanted at Sandy Point and the Dumping Grounds.

A fisherman could pick up a half bushel of grass shrimp for bait in as little as a half an hour. And, Mr. Davies recalls when he was 8½, he caught native trout from the branches of the Patuxent at Clarksville.

I was amused with his reminiscences of the days some 40 odd years ago when the late Capt. Huntington introduced the first silver spoons for rockfish - forerunners of today's Huntington drone spoons. "Fishermen would look at the tiny silver spoons and 'poo hoo' them. They couldn't believe something as artificial as that could catch a rockfish - and it took a long time to convince them. The introduction of the silver spoon eventually changed the entire bay fishing pattern.", Mr Davies observed.

Before leaving the Davies residence, Hemsley's Fortune, I had to ask him the natural question: How do you remain so active at an age when most men just look back on their bountiful outdoor life?

The answer was direct and simple: "I'm a lean one, 6 feet and 140 pounds. I take pleasure in the out-of-doors, and I do plenty of walking. It's kept me in top shape - even my shooting eye".