The New York Sun Thursday, April 3rd, 2003

Documentary Filmmaker Tells "Gotham Fish Tales"
By Errol Louis, staff reporter of the Sun

"New York is the playground for the rich. But for me, it's just a big old fishing hole," says Phil the cabdriver, who keeps five fishing rods stashed in the trunk of his taxi.

During the past seven years, East Village filmmaker Robert Maass has been interviewing Phil and dozens of other anglers for what may be the first full-length film documentary on fishing in and around New York City.

At 6:30 this evening, the Municipal Arts Society will screen Mr. Maass' film, Gotham Fish Tales, at its Midtown headquarters as part of an effort to bring New Yorkers closer to the waters surrounding them.

"The fishing in New York City, judged by the variety of species and the profusion, is excellent," Mr. Maass said. "You've got huge numbers of bluefish, flounder, crabs, albacore. A little subset of people in this town know about it, and they do it, and they love it."

Mr. Maass said he got the idea for the documentary while shooting photos of wastewater treatment plants on a freelance assignment commissioned by the city's Department of Environmental Protection. Mr. Maass said he noticed DEP workers fishing on their lunch break, and began asking questions.

That began a tour through the city's multi-ethnic fishing culture that resulted in the 80-minute film being shown tonight. The documentary shows men and women talking while they fish, mixing an impressive knowledge of fishing with a wisecracking urban flair.

Carmen, a middle-aged Latina, sports a Walkman and earring shaped like fish while fishing, and breaks into a dance when she hooks one. A white professional demonstrates the thrill of hooking an albacore-an ocean fish-while standing on the rocky Brooklyn shore in the early morning, then laughs about the need to clean up quickly and get to work.

One commercial fisherman, an older man, reminisces about the days when shad runs in the Hudson would turn the river silver. Another ruefully notes that the handful of people who still make a living fishing the city waters are an endangered species.

"The tree-huggers try to put little guys like us out of business," says a 54-year-old crab fisherman from Queens.

Some of the 300-odd clammers who work in Raritan Bay, off the coast of Staten Island, marvel at the fact that New Yorkers don't know the clams they're eating in fancy restaurants were caught in city waters.

Several men who operate boats out of Brooklyn's Sheepshead Bay-the largest recreational fleet on the east coast-are amazed that they get so little notice from the public or local politicians.

If there's a hero of the film, it's a series of federal laws passed in the 1970s, collectively known as the Clean Water Act, which regulated the discharge of pollutants into the water. People filmed fishing in Brooklyn's industrial sections, including the Gowanus Canal and the Brooklyn Navy Yard, marvel at how clear the waters have become in comparison to years past.

For Mr. Maass, Gotham Fish Tales is an attempt to set the record straight. "The perception among most New Yorkers is that the city waters are dirty and polluted," he said. "The reality is much different."

The New Yorker Magazine from issue dated August 4th, 2003

Goings On About Town

"Gotham Fish Tales"

Back in 1996, when Robert Maass, a former photographer for Newsweek, was on assignment for the New York City Department of Environmental Protection to shoot waterfront sewage-treatment plants, he noticed a curious detail—the plants’ employees often spent their lunch hours down at the water’s edge, fishing. Maass, a sportfisherman himself, was intrigued, and the encounter inspired him to make the documentary film “Gotham Fish Tales,” a lighthearted look at the city’s aquatic residents (everything from the regal striped bass to the forgotten sea horse) and the many locals who spend hours in their pursuit. One of them is Philip Frabocilo, a cabdriver whose trunk is full of fishing rods and whose dashboard is covered with proud snapshots of the ones that didn’t get away. On July 31 at 8, Maass, along with Frabocilo and others from the film, will introduce the movie at an outdoor riverside screening. “The great thing about this event is that it’s right next to where all this life is,” the director says. (The River Project, Pier 26, West St. at N. Moore St. For more information, call 212-233-3030.)

Exerpt from Variety, September 30th, 2002

Hooking Fish

One filmmaker with high hopes at this year's [ IFP, Independent Film Project ] market is Robert Maass, who is unveiling 20 minutes of his doc [ Gotham Fish Tales ], a work...that centers on odd characters who fish along the Hudson River and other New York waterways.

"For me, part of the challenge was to get a cut that would be most representative and most enticing, to get people excited about this project, who would be interested enough to get this thing completed and then released," he said.

Maass, who was a Newsweek photographer for 10 years and has written 10 books for children, is looking for finishing funds from distribs.

Outdoors - Features Desk

NO SWEAT - We're done fishing -- let's grab a taxi
Michael Koehn

Gotham Fish Tales
The Sundance Channel Monday, 9 p.m.


This offbeat show rubs elbows with characters who ply the waters of New York Harbor for relaxation, fun and sometimes a living. It's a diverse group, from rod-packing cabbie "Brother Phil" Frabosilo, who also volunteers at the Bowery Mission, to the commercial watermen who struggle to harvest the hardy striped bass, clams, albacore, horseshoe crabs and "Big Apple" bluefish that make the harbor their home.

Writer-director Robert Maass allows each of these characters their personal anecdote, recipe or philosophic point, which provides the series with great local color, but the other story here is the comeback of the habitat itself. The harbor that was once dead and toxic has been reclaimed through the Clean Water Act of 1972, and game fish stocks are now back up to decent levels. While nothing like it was 40 years ago, New York Harbor, long infamous as a body dump, is once again a lively resource for the urban angler -- and raconteur.

The New York Times Sunday Edition

Outdoors
Stephen C. Saunter

Unusual Setting, But Fish Still Bite

Thoughts of hungry striped bass hung in the air, bright as the nearly full moon rising in the afternoon haze over Long Island. Though not a swirl or splash could yet be seen, Rob Maass and John Waldman stood supremely confident, casting bucktails from shore into a quiet backwater.

They had lured me here with tales of wild fishing they had stumbled upon only two days earlier. Between them, they landed nearly 60 fish, all stripers in the 3- to 6-pound range.

They told me how the bass had pinned schools of young-of-the-year appearing against the shoreline, gulping them down by the dozen and swiping at nearly any lure tossed their way.

What made the invitation even more tempting was the odd-ball location: an utterly urbanized shoreline of Queens, along a dead-end cove of western Long Island Sound.

Directions included parking near some garden apartments, then wandering under a highway overpass while keeping a low profile so as not to tip off any potential commuter/anglers as they zipped home. Catching a fish under such conditions seemed downright illicit-in a playing hooky sort of way.

More than anyone I know, Waldman and Maass have assembled a formidable cache of equally funky spots. Waldman, a scientist for the Hudson River foundation, recently chronicled New York Harbor's prolific wildlife in his book "Heartbeats in the Muck." Maass has spent the better part of the last two years filming anglers in New York City for an upcoming documentary on the subject. The two men have even wet their lines in the Gowanus Canal in Brooklyn, which Waldman describes as "punched senseless by man." Even there, they have caught fish.

Perhaps a trip to the Gowanus was now in order as the three of us continued to cast with no results. Maass theorized that the tide may be to blame, since it would flood nearly two hours later than the other night. Waldman, on the other hand, silently fired cast after cast into the cove until, finally, he yielded two small stripers around 14 inches each.

The New York Sun Monday, November 4th, 2002

Fishing For More Than Compliments
By David Howard

Ken Hawkins has looked lots of fish in the eyes. A self-described obsessive fisherman, the 32-year-old Bear Stearns trader has chased tarpon, bonefish, and sailfish all over Central America and the Caribbean in the past seven years. Mr. Hawkins landed a 125-pound tarpon in Belize after battling the behemoth for more than two hours-the result, he says, of a "massive amound of luck." But lately he's concluded that all that globe-hopping is unwarranted.

"The more I go to these exotic places, the more I realize the fishing here and in Montauk is as good as anywhere in the world," Mr. Hawkins says, staring at the spot where his fishing line vanishes into the dark, glittery East River. "With stripers and bluefish you have a good shot at catching 25 or 30 in a day. With tarpon, you have a bad shot at catching one fish in three days. If you come out here at the right time, the fish are definitely waiting."

This October evening happens to be the right time, as Mr. Hawkins and five of his Wall Street colleagues find after boarding two boats off the East 23rd Street piers chartered with Captain Shastay Sportfishing. Owner Joe Shastay, a 44-year-old Jersey City firefighter, chugged upstream, positioning his clients about 200 yards from the United Nations complex, and Mr. Hawkins hooked a 23-inch striper within the first few minutes of the expedition.

Plucking anything from New York waters probably sounds anathema to residents versed in their harbor's diry-water lore, and the superior quality of the fishing here takes some by surprise. "It's subjective, but I think the fishing in New York City proper is as good as anywhere on the East Coast, bar none," say Robert Maass, 45, a photographer and filmmaker whose new documentary, Gotham Fish Tales, recently screened at the Pioneer Theater in the East Village. "That's extraordinary. And no one really knows about it. People who think they know everything about New York-the culture, the finance-they don't know squat about this."

What makes it so exceptional? For one thing, the striking assortment of options: Anglers can rent a skiff and fish the islands off City Island in the Bronx; hop an overnight deep-sea-fishing boat out of Sheepshead Bay; surf-cast in the Rockaways and Staten Island; dangle a line into the East and Hudson Rivers from a variety of piers and parks along the 500-plus miles of coastline; or join city-based charters like Mr. Shastay's. There are even largemouth bass to be fished in Central Park's Harlem Meer.

"The first time I came out here, two years ago, I thought it was the coolest thing in the world," says Mr. Hawkins, whose group wound up catching more than 30 fish, including a 40-inch, 25-pound striper, in four hours. He points toward the skyline, radiant in the early evening. "The city is right out there in front of you, and what we have here in terms of water is absolutely insane."

Another major factor is the improvement in water quality. The Clean Water Act of 1972 has been a boon for the health of the rivers an harbor "Most people see the fish and say, 'Man, those look good,'" Mr. Shastay says. "They were expecting three eyes and sores and all."

But can you eat what you catch? The answer is yes, but with a caveat: You can consume the striped bass and bluefish, but the Health Department advises against eating more than half a pound a week. Children and women of childbearing age are advised not to eat fish caught in the New York waters.

Effective management of the striped bass population, which was severely depleted by the early 1980s, has created an abundance of the sleek, powerful fish. Some grow as large as 40 pounds. "There are an awful lot of stripers out there now," says John Waldman, 47, a senior scientist with the Hudson River Foundation and author of two books about the river and harbor. "And people are catching on to the fact that we've come a long way in terms of water quality."

While researching his documentary, Mr. Maass found a vibrant angling subculture, from a cab driver who carries rods in his trunk to wastewater-treatment-plant workers who fish for stripers off neighboring piers during their lunch hours.

But some fishing charters have seen their business fall, particularly with the economy backsliding. Wall Street once provided the bulk of Mr. Shastay's business, but his numbers have slipped significantly since September 11th, 2001. He estimates as many as 50 former customers died in the attacks, including about 10 regulars.

October through mid-December is when striped bass migrate from their summer feeding grounds up north to spend the winter in and around the harbor. Mr. Shastay is so confident about the striper population he guarantees at least 20 fish a charter trip this time of year. The sport requires neither much gear nor expertise (except for fly fishing, which requires plenty of both); Mr. Shastay instructs his clients on baiting their hooks with sandworms and dropping the tackle over the side of the boat, and finds the fish. A Jersey City native, he adopted his father's passion for the sport by the age of 5. As a teenager, he paddled a rubber raft out to fish around the base of the Statue of Liberty (now off-limits to fishing boats because of terrorist concerns).

At least a few are in on the secret. Ryan Kenny, 31, a Bear Stearns senior managing director, has become a regular; he organized the recent outing with Mr. Shastay. He says everyone on Wall Street woos their clients with a uniform set of perks, but the fishing trips stand out. "You can do the standard, run-of-the-mill business dinner, or you can do something fun and unique," Mr. Kenny says. "You leave your office, and in a few minutes you have a beer in one hand and a fishing rod in the other with a striped bass on the end of the line. That makes an impression."

New York Up Close

The New York Times Sunday, April 20th 2003

Fish are Running, Not the Meter
By Kelly Crow

Of all the urban anglers who fish in the flotsam and jetsam of the East River, Philip Frabosilo may be the only one with old spark plugs strapped to his fishing lines as sinkers.

Certainly, Mr. Frabosilo is the only fisherman here who papers the doors and dashboard of his medallion cab with graining photographs of his favorite catches, mostly striped bass and Big Apple blues, better known as bluefish.

"I've caught 15,000 fish here in the last 10 years of my live, and I've eaten 75 meals from the East River," he said last week, an impish grin spreading under his dark mustache. "Never got sick once."

His fishing exploits-and boyant bravado-are a highlight of "Gotham Fish Tales," a new documentary by Rob Maass about the lives of intrepid city anglers, many of whom ply their sport atop piers, under bridges and beside waste-water treatement plants. Mr. Maass, a former Newsweek photographer, held a film screening at the Municipal Art Society earlier this month and is now seeking wider distribution.

"It's so incongruous that in this city, people can go fishing on their lunch breaks," Mr. Maass said. "That's what Huck Finn does, right?"

So does Philip Frabosilo, a lifelong Williamburg resident and part-time traveling preacher who learned to fish off the Canarsie Pier when he was 7. Now 50, he claims he finished high school only because his teacher allowed him to untangle tackle during class. He started driving a cab soon after, and once took a young woman fishing at Coney Island as a first date. They are now married.

He still fishes the East River several hours a day from May to December, his trunk often stuffed with five fishing rods, eight crab traps and bait. Passengers rarely mind the occasionally fishy scent, he said. Sometimes they call him later for advice on buying lures. Last year, a customer even begged him for a bluefish. He promptly wrapped one in newspaper and packed most of it into her suitcase.

"The fish was too big, a monster," he said, "so the tail stuck out."

Fishing season is nearly here again, so one afternoon last week, he decided to stop by and scout a few of his 40 favorite fishing spots. First stop: a patch of sidewalk along the waterfront near the Waterside complex at 29th Street just east of the FDR Drive. Fishing is not allowed here, he whispered, but he can park, ready his fishing rods and cast his lines in less than two minutes.

"It's usually half an hour before the guards shoo me away," he said, "and by then, I already know what's biting."

The heliport at 34th Street is another good spot, but he didn't stop. Too many police cars these days, he said. But over on Roosevelt Island, along the southwestern tip, and in Long Island City, he is welcome to park almost anywhere. The Water's Edge, a restaurant at 44th Drive, even offers him valet parking.

Leaning against the white iron railing outside the restaurant, he watched as people passed him on bicycles. Soon, he said, the railing would be lined with fishing poles. He said he hoped to catch 200 fish this season. As usual, he will release nearly all of them.

"Catching it, getting a photo, and letting it go-that's the rush for me. Only trick now is to keep fishing as an innocent diversion and not let it catch me," he said. "But it's spring. Isn't everybody in a fishing mood?"