THE STRIPED BASS. 139 



the coast, where the fish seldom weigh over five pounds, a 

 reel that will carry a hundred yards of linen line is amply large, 

 but for surf-fishing it should be large enough to carry from 

 two hundred to three hundred yards. The barrel should in 

 all cases run on steel pivots, and be so accurate in its work- 

 manship that the lightest fillip on the crank may be sufficient 

 to set it running for some time. This motion should be 

 perfectly noiseless in whatever position the rod is held no 

 grating of the gearing or friction of the barrel; in short, it 

 should be as near as possible to perpetual motion, and 

 as perfect in its mechanism as the movement of a fine watch. 



About six miles from the New York City Hall, as the crow 

 flies, where the Harlem joins its waters with the East River, 

 lies that pesky, turbulent region of seething currents, eddies, 

 and whirlpools, appropriately called Hell Gate. At slack tide 

 the water will be as placid as a mill-pond, with scarce a rip- 

 ple to betoken its treacherous character. Sloops and schooners 

 passing through the gate will rest quietly on its bosom, with 

 every detail of sail and spar and cordage accurately mirrored 

 from its glassy surface. Presently little eddies will begin to 

 form, indications of a change of tide; currents will begin to 

 set in contrary directions, and in an incredibly short time the 

 whole scene of placid beauty will change into a brawling, 

 foaming conflict of waters, exceedingly dangerous, as many 

 an unskillful navigator can attest. This was a favorite spot 

 with Washington Irving. To him the whole neighborhood 

 was a region of fable and romance which he delighted to 

 people with ghostly pirates and more substantial old Dutch 

 burghers and their broad-beamed wives and daughters. 

 Many of the localities hereabouts are rendered classic by 

 the glamour of his magic pen. In the whirlpool called 

 "The Pot," a famous lurking-place for large Bass, the gal- 

 lant tub of the mighty Van Kortlandt came to grief; on one 

 of these rocks the great Ten Broeck peeled himself like 



