The men averaged a pot a minute. The first haul: 48 lobsters, not counting two-dozen thrown back for size. Joe Horvath called these small "recruits" proof that the stock is solid.
Last month, lobstermen held their collective breath as the American Lobster Board considered a five-year ban from Cape Cod to North Carolina to protect what they consider a lobster stock threatened by rising water temperatures and other factors. The measure was voted down.
"These are the lobsters that are supposedly not here if you listen to the experts," Joe Horvath said, holding a lobster barely bigger than his palm.
The Horvaths keep about 500 pounds of lobster from a typical run, they said. And total Jersey lobster catch has doubled in recent years to 600,000 pounds, the state says.
Rather, lobstermen's blues are found in dropping prices and the tanked economy.
Four years ago, they sold lobster for up to $11 per pound. Now, the middlemen who peddle the catch to restaurants and markets offer only about $5 per pound.
Then there are poachers, who will empty a man's pots or drop their lines right on top of someone else's. "A few lobsters will make a man do goofy things," Joe Horvath said.
He knows better than most. Horvath is working with another lobsterman and state officials to ease a 10-year-old territorial dispute that once featured an exchange of gunfire at the Mud Hole. Luckily, no one was killed.
On this day, the high seas were not so rough.
By late afternoon, the sky had turned the color of ash. The swells had calmed. The bait smelled, the flies were biting, and the ice box was full. The radio gurgled with news from Joe Horvath Jr. about his best catch of the season.
The Baby Doll headed home. A crowd of customers waited at the pier, and the lobsters sold in an hour.
Contact staff writer Mike Newall at 856-779-3237 or mnewall@phillynews.com.