TRCP’s “In the Arena” series highlights the individual voices of hunters and anglers who, as Theodore Roosevelt so famously said, strive valiantly in the worthy cause of conservation.
Paul Dixon
Hometown: East Hampton, N.Y.
Occupation: Saltwater fly fishing guide who owns Dixon’s To The Point Charters, offering fly fishing for stripers and bluefish off Montauk, N.Y., and for bonefish, permit, and tarpon in the Florida Keys.
Conservation credentials: Dixon is a past board member and current Advisory Council member of the conservation nonprofit Bonefish & Tarpon Trust (BTT) – a TRCP partner – and is responsible for helping to raise millions of dollars for marine conservation efforts. He has long been a vocal champion for striped bass conservation.
Captain Paul Dixon is nothing less than a star in the guiding space in Montauk, off the east end of Long Island, and in the Florida Keys. He essentially wrote the book on sight fishing for striped bass in the Northeastern U.S. and is the main character in author Peter Kaminsky’s celebrated 2002 book The Moon Pulled Up an Acre of Bass. Dixon has been featured on ESPN’s fishing shows Guide House: Montauk, The Walker’s Cay Chronicles and Spanish Fly; in the Millhouse Podcast; and in articles in The New York Times, Outdoor Life, The Miami Herald, New York (Magazine), Salt Water Sportsman, and Field and Stream. Dixon’s client list has included such celebrity anglers as Roger Waters (the bassist for Pink Floyd) and renowned Florida fisherman Flip Pallot. He’s Orvis-endorsed and named among the top 50 charter captains by Salt Water Sportsman. Perhaps most importantly, he’s used his considerable influence in angling circles to forward fish conservation efforts. In 2021 he was given the Izaak Walton Award from the American Museum of Fly Fishing, and in 2022, BTT bestowed him the Lefty Kreh Award for Lifetime Achievement in Conservation.
Here is his story.
My mother put me on a dock with a dropline on Balboa Island in California when I was three years old. Almost every weekend I spent on a head boat in Southern California or in a duck blind.
My whole family was steeped in hunting and fishing. As a lieutenant in the Air Force, my father was stationed in Alaska. His job was to open up fishing camps for the officers stationed on the Distant Early Warning (DEW) Line [of Cold War radar stations] in 1952. He opened up the first camps in the Brooks Range on the Nac Nac River. My grandfather was a member of the Catalina Island Tuna Club in the 1930s and had his own duck club in Palmdale, Calif. He fished with author Zane Grey and singer Bing Crosby. So I grew up with great stories of outdoor adventures and dreamed of creating my own.
When I graduated from high school I was offered a job at the Wild Rose Ranch on Henry’s Lake in Idaho. Upon arrival the old timers told me, “We don’t spin fish here, kid. We fly fish,” and so the passion began. I had no nearby rivers or lakes so I began fly fishing in saltwater. I moved east in the mid-80s with the dream of opening my own fly fishing business and began Dixon’s Sporting Life, a fly fishing store in East Hampton, N.Y. I bought a flats skiff and began chasing striped bass.
“My biggest concern currently is that striped bass, again, are being depleted from all the commercial and recreational overfishing of the last 20 years.”
I have so many great memories of outdoor adventures with my father and family, but the most recent memories with my own sons come to mind. Notably, my son Andrew’s first tarpon, after 30 minutes and 10 jumps, came off, and Andrew says, “Damn they’re strong. I’m sort of glad he came off.” Recently, my oldest son, Austen, came striper fishing with me, and he caught 10 fish by 8:30 a.m., all of them over 30 pounds — a truly biblical morning.
I have fished in many wonderful places all over the world, but I have not yet fished in Alaska. After hearing throughout my young life of fishing in Alaska from my father, I have harbored the dream of going there myself, with my own sons, and now have planned a trip for August 2025.
I got involved with conservation when I moved east and realized that my dream fish, the striped bass, had been fished out. By the time that I opened my store in the early ’90s, the striped bass came roaring back after a 10-year fishing moratorium, one of the greatest conservation success stories in America. In a short period of time, however, the regulations started changing and, slowly but surely, you could see the effects on the fishery. I started going to fishery hearings to voice my concern about the fate of stripers and have been fighting the battle ever since. My ongoing conservation efforts are a way of preserving the fishery that has brought so much pleasure and excitement to my life for so many decades.
For a long time, the biggest conservation challenge in our area was the restoration of the menhaden, which were being decimated by the factory ships. To deal the problem, the ships were outlawed from fishing in New York’s state waters. The recovery of menhaden was quickly evident from the abundance of whales, sharks, bass, and dolphin that were now feeding on menhaden up and down the coast. My biggest concern currently is that striped bass, again, are being depleted from all the commercial and recreational overfishing of the last 20 years.
It’s imperative for those of us who really love to hunt and fish to become involved in the preservation of the natural world. When I was 15 years old, I went with my father on a long-range fishing trip in search of albacore, 100 miles offshore. Leaving the harbor, my father said, “I remember when I used to catch albacore right off that jetty.”
I never want to say to my kids, “I remember when,” with fishing and hunting.