These days the Island is getting caught up in the excitement of the Jaws 50th anniversary. However, veteran Vineyard anglers still tell stories about a true denizen of the deep that swims in our local waters, the Vineyard version of the Loch Ness Monster, aka the legendary phantom scup.
This mythical fish has continued to tantalize a certain group of local fishermen for nearly half a century. And despite their best efforts, they have been unable to land that crafty creature to this very day.
Nearly 50 years ago, Jim Pringle, owner of the very popular Cozy’s establishment in Oak Bluffs had a thought. There is a Striped Bass Derby on the Vineyard, so why not a Scup Derby. This tournament was his way to host both his employees and take friends fishing, and maybe check out those local rumors that had been spreading over the years about a huge scup making the Vineyard Sound his own personal feeding ground. Other fish knew to stay away.
I was fortunate enough to get the call and be invited into this exclusive group, joining these brave pescators and pescatrices (Italian for fishermen and fisherwomen), and so was there when the Scup Derby was born.
Jim was smart.
“I decided the derby should take place on the first full moon as close to the summer solstice as I could get. It stays lighter longer,” he told me recently. “We also needed a boat, so I called Bruce Campbell. He was the owner and Captain of the Ranger.”
Bruce chuckled as he recalled that time.
“I do remember a particularly foggy night when we mistakenly headed into Hart Haven instead of Oak Bluffs. That was a treat.”
When I asked him if he minded that I write about this navigating snafu, Bruce replied: “Go ahead, I’ll have my lawyers ready.”
While Bruce was the captain and drove the Ranger, the brunt of the work was done by the first mate. His basic job was to keep the anglers happy. And, oh, we were happy. The Ranger’s first mate was an energetic teenager named John Potter who scampered all over the boat. He baited hooks, untangled lines, unhooked fish from the squeamish and later was a magician with the fillet knife.
“John was quite a character,” Captain Campbell recalled. “He was a Grateful Dead fan and went to all their concerts and would return just in time to go out.”
Jim Pringle remembered him well.
“John Potter’s first words to me were, we will charge you a cheap rate and will never ever raise it. The rate never went up. We simply passed the hat around for the first mate.”
In 1987, John Potter and Todd Alexander bought the Skipper, the sister ship to the Ranger. Our first mate had become Captain John.
Between the exciting energy of Capt. John Potter and the creativity Jim Pringle, the scup derby turned into one of the most unique fishing tournaments in maritime history. Maybe it was attitude. Maybe it was the Skipper of the Skipper. But the Pringle/Potter combination took the scup derby to a whole new level. Additional fuel was required. Nips and a keg answered the call. Food was optional. But as we matured, food became a staple as we learned that man and woman do not live by liquid alone.
Captain John found the fishing holes between the Chops. He could find Scup Alley. If it swam in the Vineyard Sound it was hooked. We snagged sea robins, sea bass, the occasional striper, blue, eel and sand shark. We bottom fished. We trolled. We tried. We went in any weather. We caught plenty of scup but never the big one.
Competition was fierce. The goal was to be king or queen and wear the crown at the end of the night. Bragging rights for the year were important. For some, fishing rules sank to the bottom. Longtime participant Kevin Hoehn was found shoving steel pellets down the throat of a scup. Jim Pringle was forced to disqualify Kevin for life, but the affable Mr. Pringle reinstated him soon after. Jack Livingston defrosted a large scup and was caught trying to weigh it in. His suspension is still under appeal.
Over the years, novel fishing methods were applied to land the giant scup. Mr. Pringle’s son Jimmy devised a potato gun. Fired from this device, when the potato landed in the water it would theoretically entice the phantom scup to the surface. It was rumored that this fish was attracted by the sight and scent of an Idaho potato. No Luck. The spud was a dud.
The year we employed the huge sling shot to bombard the alleged home of the giant scup with water balloons didn’t work wither. One accidental launch at an SSA ferry was met by an unhappy horn from the boat.
As his reward as founder and for his many years as the genial host, Mr. Pringle eventually was crowned Emperor of the Scup Derby. Wearing his fish net robe and armed with a scepter, Emperor Pringle was given a parade on the back of a pickup down Circuit avenue. Lorraine Pringle, Jim’s wife and cohort, made it be known that her daughter Julie’s prize-winning scup was mounted and currently hangs proudly on the wall at Offshore Ale.
Just this week I tracked down Captain Potter on a charter and spent a sunny morning together while testing my fishing skills.
“I loved boats and the water,” he told me. “I spent winters in the Caribbean running boats and was thrilled when I had the chance to buy the Skipper. The Skipper was built in 1941. It is a wood New Jersey Head Boat, one of only 12 ever built. There was no question that we would continue to host the Scup Derby after I bought the Skipper.”
John remembered that some guy had decided to film the scup derby.
“He came out for a couple of years and we never saw him again,” he said. “Wonder where that video is?”
The captain laughed when I said the word Billy.
“Billy was the seagull who flew over us at every derby, generally landing on top of the radarm,” Captain Potter recalled. “Garreth Heath, (the current first mate) would feed Billy by hand. Don’t ask how I knew it was Billy who joined us every derby. I spent my time at the wheel watching a group of 30 solid citizens yell when they caught a fish, especially a big one. There was always a crowd to greet us at the dock when Emperor Pringle gave out the awards.”
Like the Demo Derby, Thanksgiving Horse Race, Whippoorwill Yacht and Boat Race, Island Fast-Pitch Softball, the Scup Derby became part of Island lore.
This fine day at sea, as Captain Potter was talking, I was catching fish after fish. I yelled to him, “we’re gonna need a bigger bucket.”
And while I didn’t catch the phantom scup, I caught dinner.
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