Dear Editor,
Last week, I lost a dear friend who was a long-time resident of Sint Maarten. His name was Antoine Jurczenko, or Tony, as many people called him. Many people knew him as the former owner of Antoine’s or Da Livio’s restaurant in Philipsburg, or as one of Sint Maarten’s finest fishermen. I got to know him several years ago thru Island Water World. At the time I had my boat there and they knew I wanted to fish the Sint Maarten waters, but was not good at it. They knew of Antoine, as Antoine had to sell his small boat for medical reasons and could no longer go out to sea to fish. So, they introduced me to Antoine.
It was a match made in heaven. I would take Antoine out to sea to fish and he would teach me how to fish and a great relationship was started. Antoine was an incredible fisherman. We would go to sea and he had a technique where we would anchor about two miles off the coast and fish for Tuna, Wahoo, Mahi-Mahi or Kingfish on the surface and while we waited for a big fish to hit our bait, we would bottom fish in about 220 feet of water for Red Snappers. We always came back with about three big fish and 25 to 30 Red Snappers. We could not eat all the fish and I enjoyed giving what I could not eat to many people.
Antoine was uncanny about finding the right place to fish. He had several great spots to fish and when we went to one of them, without any GPS tools, I would get set to drop anchor and he would sometimes say, drop it 100 feet in this direction or that direction, which I did and he was always right. Once we got everything set up and were ready to fish, we would talk and share stories. There was never a dull moment. Antoine told me about the restaurants he owned all over the world with his wife, who also recently passed away.
In all the locations around the world he either went fishing with a rod and reel or caught fish by spear fishing. He taught me how to tie the right knots, properly bait a hook, how to properly reel in a big fish, because we always used light fishing line to give the big fish a fighting chance. Catching a big tuna on light line sometimes took an hour to get the fish in the boat. We would play games, once a big fish was on the hook to see who could tell what type of fish was on the line, before we got it in the boat. He always won. He even taught me the proper way to pull up a 20-pound anchor from 200 feet without killing myself. He had a technique for everything.
We would bottom fish with four hooks on each line and sometimes catch 3 or 4 fish at a time. One time Antoine brought his line up with four hooks and there were five fish on the line. That was Antoine. He was amazing. I joked with him and said that when he passed away, I would remember him as the man who caught five fish on four hooks. Antoine was a kind and private person and he was a giver. After several years, as we became closer, he told me many stories about himself and they were not only stories about fishing. The one I remember the most was during WW II. Antoine was Polish and during his teenage years he joined the French Resistance and used to run messages between the resistance groups. He was caught twice by the Germans and was held captive, but escaped twice, once by sliding down a rain pipe from the building where he was held. After the war he was awarded French citizenship for his efforts during the war.
Back to fishing. We needed bait for our fishing exploits and the best way to get the best bait was to fish for Ballyhoo off the many jetties in Sint Maarten. Of course, he had his favourite places and we went to them all. Again, his fishing skills did not let him down. We would sit side by side fishing for the small Ballyhoo using his amazing techniques. He would prepare a special cake of garlic bread crumps and oil to attract the Ballyhoo. There we were sitting side by side on top of our bait buckets catching Ballyhoo off the rocks. We would fish about six feet apart. At the end of our fishing, he would have about 30 to 40 Ballyhoo and I would usually have about six, but that was Antoine. He always beat me and, of course, give me all the fish.
At the end of his life, Antoine would fish for Snook along the shores. He told me how much the island had grown over the years and how sad it was that he was often chased at 90-plus years old from his Snook fishing spots. Fishing was truly in his blood. Well, I hope you get a glimpse as to who Antoine was. He was a dear friend and I loved him. A few years back, I had to sell my villa on Sint Maarten but I returned several times and visited Antoine. I miss him very much.
Tom Metz,
Formerly from Point Pirouette
