Ever cast a line into a river teeming with fish? Happy Fishing isn’t just a name it’s a journey through time. Imagine yourself transported back to 1600s Manhattan. A time when the island was a tapestry of forests and rivers. A time before skyscrapers blotted out the sky.
The Harlem River flows before you. It is not the concrete-lined canal of today. Instead it’s a wild waterway. Silversides shimmer on the surface. Cormorants and terns dive and preen. The air vibrates with the sounds of nature. You cast your line. Your hook snags something large. It’s a weakfish a magnificent 30 inches long.
Moving south you enter a forest. The trees tower overhead. Sunlight filters through leaves. This is the Manhattan the Lenape knew. They shaped this land. They cleared the underbrush. You walk easily along well-worn paths. You reach a small river. It flows into a pond. Here in the quiet water you find pumpkinseed sunfish. Then with a dry fly you lure a redfin pickerel from its hiding place. Then even more unexpectedly a brook trout. These fish once thrived here. Their numbers dwindled as the island changed.
The afternoon fades. You walk towards the southern tip of Manhattan. The Hudson and East Rivers meet. Menhaden swarm the surface. Terns and gulls dive. Striped bass and bluefish explode from the water. A whale surfaces close by. The scene is breathtaking. You cast your line. You hook a large bluefish. Then a striper almost 28 pounds. The fishing is incredible. This is the abundant New York Harbor of the past.
As dusk deepens you try a different tactic. You catch eels and use them as bait. You feel a tug on your line. It’s a colossal striped bass. You fight it for minutes. It is enormous a creature of myth. Finally you release it back into the river. The image of that enormous fish stays with you. It is a reminder of the rich history of Happy Fishing. A reminder of what once was and what might be again. New York’s waters still hold life. With careful restoration maybe one day we’ll see such abundance again.