
Island fisherman Miles Whyte made his biggest catch in the 70th Martha’s Vineyard Striped Bass and Bluefish Derby, which concluded at 10 pm Saturday night, at the awards ceremony Sunday when his girlfriend Deanna Withers said “I do” amid the cheers and tears of several hundred people gathered under a tent at the Farm Neck Golf Club in Oak Bluffs.
The awards ceremony is an event not normally associated with romance. It is the finish line of a five-week fishing marathon. Spouses and significant others are more inclined to say, “I don’t,” “I won’t,” and “I’ve had enough of your squid and eels.”
Miles said the idea to propose while onstage was not contingent on winning the grand prize of a new boat. “It crossed my mind a couple of times, but I didn’t want to put weight on winning. I still would have asked her, but I was just hoping I got the opportunity,” he said. The Derby fates decreed that Dee would not be the consolation prize.
Miles, who caught a 37.95 pound striped bass, was one of four grand leaders who stepped up on the stage Sunday afternoon with a chance to win a new 22-foot Eastern boat, motor, and trailer.
Four other fishermen were in line to win a new Chevy Colorado pickup truck, courtesy of the Clay Family Dealerships and longtime Derby supporters Fran and Bob Clay.
One by one, longtime Derby president Ed Jerome brought the grand leaders — seven men and one woman — up onstage and explained the procedure to the crowd, most of whom were familiar with the drill, as excited friends and relatives cheeed, hooted, and hollered out the names of favorite fishermen.
Each fisherman in the shore and boat divisions respectively would draw a number from one to four out of a small box to determine the order in which he or she would draw a key out of a small box. Each would come up to the podium and hand it to Ed. He would then insert it into a padlock held up to the microphone. If the key turned and the lock clicked open, he or she would win the grand prize in that division.
On stage Sunday were Clinton A. Fisher (boat bluefish,17.87 lbs.), Karen A. Altieri (shore bluefish, 15.65 lbs), Stephen J. Pietruska (boat bass, 41.98 lbs.), Miles Whyte (shore bass, 37.95 lbs.), Rob E. Coad (boat bonito, 11.32 lbs.), Timothy J. Scott (shore bonito, 8.99 lbs.), Fred Hoffman (boat albacore,14.22 lbs.), and Donald R. Sicard (shore albacore, 13.10 lbs.).
First up was Karen Altieri. Ed held the lock up and the room quickly quieted. He wiggled the key, but it did not budge. A chorus of disappointed “ohhs” followed.
The cheers grew for Donald Sicard, who followed without success. Two fishermen were left.
Miles handed Ed his key. “Ready?” Ed asked, and turned the key. Click! The room erupted in cheers as Miles danced around the room high-fiving his fellow fishermen.
In keeping with Derby tradition, Miles stepped to the podium to say a few words. Thankfully, this is not the Academy Awards ceremony, and fishermen do not stray off course to comment on world affairs.
In heartfelt remarks, Miles thanked the Derby committee and all those “who have ever taken a kid fishing and and put in that effort to make us the great fishermen we are today … they got us started in the trout tournament and stuff, and it is no coincidence that we are still fishing today.”
Then he cast the big plug: “I want to thank my girlfriend Dee and ask Dee if you’ll marry me.”
The room erupted in raucous cheers as Dee walked up and embraced Miles.
“70 years, 70 years,” Ed Jerome said, “we’ve never had that.”
His mom Sarah joined the hug. Later, asked what she thought of the unexpected surprise, she said, “So thrilled, so beyond thrilled. She is so wonderful and Miles is on his way, oh, I’m so thrilled.”
If at first
The key ceremony was old hat for Steve Pietruska, a seasonal West Tisbury resident who has a knack for catching stripers between 40 and 45 pounds when the fishing is tough. Always the bridesmaid, he had stood on the platform in the boat bass division in 2009, 2012, and 2013.
Steve, 66, said it was not about the truck but about the excitement of the competition. “Everybody’s out there to knock you off,” he said.
Now he was first in line, and as his sister who had flown up from Florida would point out, it was his deceased father’s birthday. An avid striper fisherman, his dad had died in 1972. Maybe it was cosmic help, but Steve’s fourth time on stage would prove to be the charm. Ed tried the key and the lock sprang open.
As Steve stepped to the microphone It was pretty clear he had a tough act to follow. His wife Sandy was sitting in the audience, so a marriage proposal was out of the question.
“Yeah, I think it has all been said, anyways,” Steve said, referencing the committee members who work so hard to organize the event. And he thanked the fishermen who make the Derby — “If it wasn’t for the fishermen we wouldn’t have a Derby, so let’s get ’em next year” — and he took his place in the record book.
Derby spirit
Over the course of the Derby, on the beach at at the weigh station in Edgartown, most of the talk is about fish caught, lost, and missed. The Derby awards ceremony provides an opportunity for weary participants to take stock and understand the spirit that is the bedrock of this unique contest and which has brought it to the 70-year mark.
It could be seen in the various special awards, given for sportsmanship, family values, and sibling togetherness.
It was evident in the faces of the little kids who marched up to the stage to receive their awards, and the not-so-little fishermen like Bill Moody of West Tisbury, who took home a plaque for his shore bonito, and said later, “I felt like a kid at the awards ceremony even though I am now in the senior division!”
It was also evident at the conclusion of the key ceremony, when the false albacore grand leader shrugged off any disappointment he might have felt at not winning a truck and stepped up to the mike.
“How are ya, folks? Fred Hoffman. Been on the Island for three years. You people have been great … I understand I won $500 in cash. I’m going to throw it back — $250 to the Wounded Warriors and the other $250 goes to Coop’s kids, wherever he is, he’s probably sleeping his ass off [he was fishing for albies], for the kids fishing tournament.”
Phoenix Russell, 26, of Oak Bluffs summed it up well when she submitted her winning answer in the Derby’s paddleboard contest: What do you live for when you fish the Derby?
“I live for it all. I live for 35 days of the best fishing the Island has to offer. Early mornings and late nights. Insane sunrises and unforgettable sunsets. Long drives up-Island and bumpy rides on the south shore. Hot dogs for breakfast and sleeping in the truck, fresh fish on the grill and weigh slips on the dashboard. I live for boxes full of plugs and way too many albie lures. For cast nets and live wells. For ink on my clothes and scales in my bucket. I live for other hardcore fishing chicks! — White boots and big fish, messy braids and crazy ponytails — I live for fishing with friends and making new ones. Cold drinks and tight lines. I live for long walks and shooting stars. Heavy bags and way too many rods. Stinky waders and wet sleeves, unexpected rain showers and howling winds. I live for setting my bait and setting the hook. I live for the adrenaline of a fighting fish, the joy of a landed fish, and the excitement of weighing one in. For dailies and mystery prizes. Hot coffees and warm smiles. All that I live for adds up to this — I live for the moment of dragging my fish to weigh in. Seeing those amazing men and woman behind the counter. And to hold that sucker up for a picture I worked so hard for. To me, It’s not about catching the biggest fish or the most fish. It’s about all the joy in the journey that brought me to this very moment of weighing one in.
“These are the moments I live for. What are yours?”