A Brotherhood by the Sea: Filipino-Americans and the Joy of Fishing
For 35 years, Andres "Ding" Amado ran a bustling auto shop in Jersey City. Now, at 73 and freshly retired, his days are no longer filled with wrenches and engines. Instead, he chases tuna and tilefish across the open waters.
"I dedicated 35 years to that shop," he said with quiet pride. "Now, I finally have the freedom to fish whenever I want."
Ding’s passion for fishing dates back to the 1980s. "I started with simple shore fishing," he recalled in an interview with The FilAm. "Eventually, I moved on to party boats—the full-day excursions where you pay for a spot, ride out, and fish all day."
His friends from Jersey City introduced him to these adventures. "They were fishermen, too. We all grew up in the Philippines around fish ponds, so fishing was part of our lives from a young age."
Ding is part of a close-knit community of Filipino fishing enthusiasts who cherish the camaraderie and serenity found on the sea. Another devoted member is Jay San Agustin, 54, a Medicare specialist from Edison and a fellow Kapampangan.
"I first tried deep-sea fishing in 2001," Jay remembered. "That was the first time I caught a fish while on a boat."
Jay’s fishing journey began in the fish ponds of BF Resorts in the Philippines before he ventured onto boats with his father. "Every Father’s Day, I’d take my dad fishing. He never gets seasick," he said with a laugh. "I did—twice on a trip—but once you get through it, you’re fine."
Jay proudly holds up a fluke, known for its delicious taste. Courtesy: Jay San Agustin via The FilAm
Companionship and Community
For Ding and Jay, fishing has always been more than catching fish—it’s about building connections.
"When you fish, you meet others who share your passion," Ding said. "Some of my friends came through the shop. That’s how our small group formed—six or eight of us initially. Over time, some grew older, some passed away. Today, younger anglers and women join, keeping our traditions alive."
Their favorite fishing spots include Leonardo State Marina, near the Earle Naval Base in Monmouth County, close to Sandy Hook. Occasionally, they head to Brielle or Point Pleasant, just a few minutes apart.
"For deeper waters—around a thousand feet—we go tile fishing on the Voyager in Point Pleasant or tuna fishing on the Big Jamaica in Brielle," Jay explained. "Those trips can last 18 to 30 hours, with 26 to 30 anglers on board."
The peak fishing season runs from May to August, tapering off between September and December. Jay typically goes once or twice a month.
"New Jersey is special because people come here from Maryland and Massachusetts. The fish quality is exceptional—black sea bass, fluke, blackfish—some of the tastiest out there," he said.
Strict rules govern fishing, too. "Striped bass must be between 28 and 31 inches. Anything larger has to be released—it’s the law. Sometimes wardens are waiting at the docks to inspect."
Ding even cooks the catch, preparing Filipino dishes like sinigang for friends and fellow anglers. "We bring the fish to his shop—he’s Kapampangan and an amazing cook," Jay added.
Yet, for both men, fishing is about more than just the catch—it’s about peace of mind.
Andres Amado proudly shows an albie, a type of tuna. Courtesy: Jay San Agustin via The FilAm
"Fishing clears your mind," Ding explained. "When I catch a lot, I share with friends and customers. On some trips, I might not catch anything while someone else does—it’s about skill and experience. Every outing teaches something new."
For Jay, fishing is both a mental escape and a cherished tradition. "The salt air refreshes my mind. It’s a break from everything."
An Expensive, Yet Rewarding Hobby
Both men admit the hobby comes with a price tag.
"A quality reel can cost $1,000 to $1,200, and rods range from $200 to $600 each—you need several for different depths," Jay said. Equipment may last years, but it’s a serious investment.
Ding takes a different view: "Yes, it’s costly, but if it’s your passion, it’s worth every penny." He noted that a party boat trip costs around $85–$90 for eight hours. "It’s not just about catching fish—it’s about joy."
Competition and fun are part of the thrill. "We even have a $5 pool—the person who catches the biggest fish wins. I’ve won four times," Jay shared.
Recently, more women have joined. "Two Filipinas from the Bronx just started. One is incredibly skilled—she ties knots perfectly, uses a GoPro, and stays humble. A great angler knows how to tie knots so the line doesn’t break."
Jay’s most memorable catch? "Tuna from the canyons off New Jersey—Hudson or Baltimore Canyon. A 30-hour trip, no cell service, just the pristine ocean."
"I once landed a 120-pound bluefin tuna," Ding said proudly. "It’s the largest I’ve caught. Off-season, you can’t keep bluefin due to regulations. Responsible fishing means releasing big fish caught outside the season."
When the weather turns, safety comes first: "We don’t go out if conditions are bad. Safety is always the priority," they emphasized.
Jay recalled a quirky superstition: "Never turn over a fish—bad luck!"
Fishing has also taught patience. "Every time I fry fillets at home, my wife can tell—they don’t even smell. That’s how I know the fish is fresh."
Even disagreements happen among anglers. Ding chuckled: "Some get upset—they don’t like sharing or get jealous if others catch more. But I just enjoy it. I eat the fish the same day. I love fish, always have."
Fishing, for these Filipino-Americans, is more than a hobby—it’s a way to connect, unwind, and celebrate life on the water. And this is the part most people miss: beyond the rods and reels, it’s the bonds, traditions, and joy that truly make every trip unforgettable. What do you think—is fishing just a pastime, or something deeper that shapes who we are? — The FilAm
