Second son of John William and Ellen Lunsford Moores. Served in USAAF in WW II. Overseas duty in the Aleutian Islands campaign. Salesman and avid fisherman
DON WILSON-Outdoors
The Orlando Sentinel, Sunday, July7,1985
MOORES MAKES FISHING HIS LIFE
PORT CANAVERAL-To Ralph Moores, Heaven is a patch of ocean surrounding a bright red sea buoy.
The craggy Orlando retiree, who seems to be cut from the same mold as Ernest Hemingway's stubborn fisherman in the Old Man and the Sea, doggedly ignores the pains of major surgery to pursue whatever saltwater denizen he can find.
Moores, 63, fishes off Port Canaveral and ranges as far as he dares in a 1973 -vintage 15 foot bass boat.
Three or four times a week, he will put to sea by himself-ignoring a heart condition that has necessitated two triple-bypass operations-to tackle the largest fish he can find.
That usually means king mackerel, since even Moores won't take his narrow, tiller-steered craft more than six or seven miles offshore.
But fighting and landing a 30 or 40 pound kingfish on spinning tackle while fishing alone from a small boat offers more gut-wrenching action than taking on a blue marlin with heavy tackle in a 36-foot cruiser.
"I'd rather be on one big king than almost anything-whooee, especially if you get one over 30 pounds," Moores said, his creased face breaking into a mile-wide grin.
"Last week, I had one take all the line, right down to the spool. I saw him hit. He was a monster - 50 pounds if he weighed an ounce," he said. "I finally recovered 20 or 30 yards of line, but it snapped when I reared back. I'd have landed him if he didn't break my damn line."
Moores managed to put a pair of 30-pounders in the boat and was back a few days later looking for the monster king. And after trolling live pinfish all morning without a hit, he shrugged philosophically and switched to catching flounder at one of the buoys closer to the port.
Although he'd rather be battling a king, Moores was still content as long as he was catching something. Fishing is the biggest thing in Moores' life.
"I think it's what keeps me alive. I'm just as enthused about fishing today as I was 50 years ago," he said. "I have a friend who's retired, and all he does is putter around the house all day - what could be more boring?"
His love of the pastime makes Moores ignore the chest pains that come when he hauls in the heavy anchor. The pains, he said, are not too severe and aren't from a circulatory problem but from the muscles cut during his most recent heart operation.
Now, months later, they are not as severe as they were when he went fishing just four weeks after the major surgery.
"I almost killed myself pulling up that anchor, but I still caught a mess of tripletail flounder and weakfish," he said.
He has made some concessions. He will forgo the strain of casting a six-foot net for mullet, instead catching pinfish on a spinning rod to get the bait he needs for mackerel fishing. He also watches the temperature, following a nightmarish fishing trip during a record heat wave weeks ago.
"The temperature was hitting 100, and I fished all day without water or anything to drink. I had a boxful of fish - tripletail and flounder - and had cleaned 60 when I keeled over. I thought I was dying. I couldn't breathe. It took me an hour to get back on my feet - but it was the heat, it wasn't my heart," he said.
Moores has been fishing at Port Canaveral for only three years, but he has amassed a decade's worth of knowledge on the hot spots. He knows just which corridors the bluefish are likely to be cruising for bait, the best spot on one of the rock jetties for flounder or the section of seawall likely to hold weakfish.
He acquired the secrets through keen observation and also by using the skills picked up during a 30-year sales career. Moores can have even the most taciturn angler swapping secrets after a 10-minute chat.
He gives as much as he gets, sharing tips with those who share his love of fishing at the port.
"I'd rather go while fishing at Marker 10 than die at home," he said. "When I die, I want to be cremated and have my ashes scattered at Marker 10."
DON WILSON-Outdoors
The Orlando Sentinel, Sunday, July7,1985
MOORES MAKES FISHING HIS LIFE
PORT CANAVERAL-To Ralph Moores, Heaven is a patch of ocean surrounding a bright red sea buoy.
The craggy Orlando retiree, who seems to be cut from the same mold as Ernest Hemingway's stubborn fisherman in the Old Man and the Sea, doggedly ignores the pains of major surgery to pursue whatever saltwater denizen he can find.
Moores, 63, fishes off Port Canaveral and ranges as far as he dares in a 1973 -vintage 15 foot bass boat.
Three or four times a week, he will put to sea by himself-ignoring a heart condition that has necessitated two triple-bypass operations-to tackle the largest fish he can find.
That usually means king mackerel, since even Moores won't take his narrow, tiller-steered craft more than six or seven miles offshore.
But fighting and landing a 30 or 40 pound kingfish on spinning tackle while fishing alone from a small boat offers more gut-wrenching action than taking on a blue marlin with heavy tackle in a 36-foot cruiser.
"I'd rather be on one big king than almost anything-whooee, especially if you get one over 30 pounds," Moores said, his creased face breaking into a mile-wide grin.
"Last week, I had one take all the line, right down to the spool. I saw him hit. He was a monster - 50 pounds if he weighed an ounce," he said. "I finally recovered 20 or 30 yards of line, but it snapped when I reared back. I'd have landed him if he didn't break my damn line."
Moores managed to put a pair of 30-pounders in the boat and was back a few days later looking for the monster king. And after trolling live pinfish all morning without a hit, he shrugged philosophically and switched to catching flounder at one of the buoys closer to the port.
Although he'd rather be battling a king, Moores was still content as long as he was catching something. Fishing is the biggest thing in Moores' life.
"I think it's what keeps me alive. I'm just as enthused about fishing today as I was 50 years ago," he said. "I have a friend who's retired, and all he does is putter around the house all day - what could be more boring?"
His love of the pastime makes Moores ignore the chest pains that come when he hauls in the heavy anchor. The pains, he said, are not too severe and aren't from a circulatory problem but from the muscles cut during his most recent heart operation.
Now, months later, they are not as severe as they were when he went fishing just four weeks after the major surgery.
"I almost killed myself pulling up that anchor, but I still caught a mess of tripletail flounder and weakfish," he said.
He has made some concessions. He will forgo the strain of casting a six-foot net for mullet, instead catching pinfish on a spinning rod to get the bait he needs for mackerel fishing. He also watches the temperature, following a nightmarish fishing trip during a record heat wave weeks ago.
"The temperature was hitting 100, and I fished all day without water or anything to drink. I had a boxful of fish - tripletail and flounder - and had cleaned 60 when I keeled over. I thought I was dying. I couldn't breathe. It took me an hour to get back on my feet - but it was the heat, it wasn't my heart," he said.
Moores has been fishing at Port Canaveral for only three years, but he has amassed a decade's worth of knowledge on the hot spots. He knows just which corridors the bluefish are likely to be cruising for bait, the best spot on one of the rock jetties for flounder or the section of seawall likely to hold weakfish.
He acquired the secrets through keen observation and also by using the skills picked up during a 30-year sales career. Moores can have even the most taciturn angler swapping secrets after a 10-minute chat.
He gives as much as he gets, sharing tips with those who share his love of fishing at the port.
"I'd rather go while fishing at Marker 10 than die at home," he said. "When I die, I want to be cremated and have my ashes scattered at Marker 10."
Second son of John William and Ellen Lunsford Moores. Served in USAAF in WW II. Overseas duty in the Aleutian Islands campaign. Salesman and avid fisherman
DON WILSON-Outdoors
The Orlando Sentinel, Sunday, July7,1985
MOORES MAKES FISHING HIS LIFE
PORT CANAVERAL-To Ralph Moores, Heaven is a patch of ocean surrounding a bright red sea buoy.
The craggy Orlando retiree, who seems to be cut from the same mold as Ernest Hemingway's stubborn fisherman in the Old Man and the Sea, doggedly ignores the pains of major surgery to pursue whatever saltwater denizen he can find.
Moores, 63, fishes off Port Canaveral and ranges as far as he dares in a 1973 -vintage 15 foot bass boat.
Three or four times a week, he will put to sea by himself-ignoring a heart condition that has necessitated two triple-bypass operations-to tackle the largest fish he can find.
That usually means king mackerel, since even Moores won't take his narrow, tiller-steered craft more than six or seven miles offshore.
But fighting and landing a 30 or 40 pound kingfish on spinning tackle while fishing alone from a small boat offers more gut-wrenching action than taking on a blue marlin with heavy tackle in a 36-foot cruiser.
"I'd rather be on one big king than almost anything-whooee, especially if you get one over 30 pounds," Moores said, his creased face breaking into a mile-wide grin.
"Last week, I had one take all the line, right down to the spool. I saw him hit. He was a monster - 50 pounds if he weighed an ounce," he said. "I finally recovered 20 or 30 yards of line, but it snapped when I reared back. I'd have landed him if he didn't break my damn line."
Moores managed to put a pair of 30-pounders in the boat and was back a few days later looking for the monster king. And after trolling live pinfish all morning without a hit, he shrugged philosophically and switched to catching flounder at one of the buoys closer to the port.
Although he'd rather be battling a king, Moores was still content as long as he was catching something. Fishing is the biggest thing in Moores' life.
"I think it's what keeps me alive. I'm just as enthused about fishing today as I was 50 years ago," he said. "I have a friend who's retired, and all he does is putter around the house all day - what could be more boring?"
His love of the pastime makes Moores ignore the chest pains that come when he hauls in the heavy anchor. The pains, he said, are not too severe and aren't from a circulatory problem but from the muscles cut during his most recent heart operation.
Now, months later, they are not as severe as they were when he went fishing just four weeks after the major surgery.
"I almost killed myself pulling up that anchor, but I still caught a mess of tripletail flounder and weakfish," he said.
He has made some concessions. He will forgo the strain of casting a six-foot net for mullet, instead catching pinfish on a spinning rod to get the bait he needs for mackerel fishing. He also watches the temperature, following a nightmarish fishing trip during a record heat wave weeks ago.
"The temperature was hitting 100, and I fished all day without water or anything to drink. I had a boxful of fish - tripletail and flounder - and had cleaned 60 when I keeled over. I thought I was dying. I couldn't breathe. It took me an hour to get back on my feet - but it was the heat, it wasn't my heart," he said.
Moores has been fishing at Port Canaveral for only three years, but he has amassed a decade's worth of knowledge on the hot spots. He knows just which corridors the bluefish are likely to be cruising for bait, the best spot on one of the rock jetties for flounder or the section of seawall likely to hold weakfish.
He acquired the secrets through keen observation and also by using the skills picked up during a 30-year sales career. Moores can have even the most taciturn angler swapping secrets after a 10-minute chat.
He gives as much as he gets, sharing tips with those who share his love of fishing at the port.
"I'd rather go while fishing at Marker 10 than die at home," he said. "When I die, I want to be cremated and have my ashes scattered at Marker 10."
DON WILSON-Outdoors
The Orlando Sentinel, Sunday, July7,1985
MOORES MAKES FISHING HIS LIFE
PORT CANAVERAL-To Ralph Moores, Heaven is a patch of ocean surrounding a bright red sea buoy.
The craggy Orlando retiree, who seems to be cut from the same mold as Ernest Hemingway's stubborn fisherman in the Old Man and the Sea, doggedly ignores the pains of major surgery to pursue whatever saltwater denizen he can find.
Moores, 63, fishes off Port Canaveral and ranges as far as he dares in a 1973 -vintage 15 foot bass boat.
Three or four times a week, he will put to sea by himself-ignoring a heart condition that has necessitated two triple-bypass operations-to tackle the largest fish he can find.
That usually means king mackerel, since even Moores won't take his narrow, tiller-steered craft more than six or seven miles offshore.
But fighting and landing a 30 or 40 pound kingfish on spinning tackle while fishing alone from a small boat offers more gut-wrenching action than taking on a blue marlin with heavy tackle in a 36-foot cruiser.
"I'd rather be on one big king than almost anything-whooee, especially if you get one over 30 pounds," Moores said, his creased face breaking into a mile-wide grin.
"Last week, I had one take all the line, right down to the spool. I saw him hit. He was a monster - 50 pounds if he weighed an ounce," he said. "I finally recovered 20 or 30 yards of line, but it snapped when I reared back. I'd have landed him if he didn't break my damn line."
Moores managed to put a pair of 30-pounders in the boat and was back a few days later looking for the monster king. And after trolling live pinfish all morning without a hit, he shrugged philosophically and switched to catching flounder at one of the buoys closer to the port.
Although he'd rather be battling a king, Moores was still content as long as he was catching something. Fishing is the biggest thing in Moores' life.
"I think it's what keeps me alive. I'm just as enthused about fishing today as I was 50 years ago," he said. "I have a friend who's retired, and all he does is putter around the house all day - what could be more boring?"
His love of the pastime makes Moores ignore the chest pains that come when he hauls in the heavy anchor. The pains, he said, are not too severe and aren't from a circulatory problem but from the muscles cut during his most recent heart operation.
Now, months later, they are not as severe as they were when he went fishing just four weeks after the major surgery.
"I almost killed myself pulling up that anchor, but I still caught a mess of tripletail flounder and weakfish," he said.
He has made some concessions. He will forgo the strain of casting a six-foot net for mullet, instead catching pinfish on a spinning rod to get the bait he needs for mackerel fishing. He also watches the temperature, following a nightmarish fishing trip during a record heat wave weeks ago.
"The temperature was hitting 100, and I fished all day without water or anything to drink. I had a boxful of fish - tripletail and flounder - and had cleaned 60 when I keeled over. I thought I was dying. I couldn't breathe. It took me an hour to get back on my feet - but it was the heat, it wasn't my heart," he said.
Moores has been fishing at Port Canaveral for only three years, but he has amassed a decade's worth of knowledge on the hot spots. He knows just which corridors the bluefish are likely to be cruising for bait, the best spot on one of the rock jetties for flounder or the section of seawall likely to hold weakfish.
He acquired the secrets through keen observation and also by using the skills picked up during a 30-year sales career. Moores can have even the most taciturn angler swapping secrets after a 10-minute chat.
He gives as much as he gets, sharing tips with those who share his love of fishing at the port.
"I'd rather go while fishing at Marker 10 than die at home," he said. "When I die, I want to be cremated and have my ashes scattered at Marker 10."
