On the Trail of a Moonfish 83 



until it was a mere streak of luminosity. Sum- 

 ming up all the reports, it was evident that the 

 unknown was a moonflsh, a colossus of the sea, 

 often eight feet long or high, or both, and which 

 at night became phosphorescent to a wonderful 

 degree. Be this explanation right or wrong, it 

 was at least a singular coincidence that a few 

 days later when coming in from a morning's 

 fishing with Colonel C. P. Morehouse, I should 

 become a participant in an extraordinary con- 

 test with one of the largest moonfishes ever 

 taken in the prolific waters of Santa Catalina. 1 

 We had been trolling for yellowtail, the game 

 fish of the region. The water was smooth, a 

 long, not heavy, ground swell coming in from 

 the west, striking the great pinnacle of Church 

 Rock and sweeping up into the air to fill it with 

 spume and dust of the sea, that drifted out upon 

 us, as we were trolling about the Rock, within 

 a stone's throw r of it, in the midst of the finest 

 yellowtail fishing to be imagined in all the world. 

 The water was blue as sapphire, reflecting the 

 color of the lofty cliffs in red, yellow, and green 

 tints. Inshore the water was a light green, a 

 combination of tints entrancing to the eye, while 

 the surge of the sea against the granite cathedral 

 rock came as the splendid music of the ocean to 

 charm the senses. 



1 The largest specimen, weighing 1500 pounds, was taken 

 by George Farnsworth of Avalon. 



