THE FIRST TARPON 



fishing was done before the fish were due on the 

 coast. It is doubtful if the tourist-fisherman av- 

 eraged a tarpon a month, and thirty, or even 

 twenty- six, days in an anchored skiff was a big 

 price to pay for the chance of a joy ride of an 

 hour. 



Once on the Miramichi, after a day of salmon 

 fishing, I tried to talk of the wonderful new sport, 

 but as I compared my day in the long canoe, 

 among the quick waters of the beautiful river, 

 with long hours of waiting on motionless waters, 

 I was abashed. When I was fishing for bluefish 

 off Montauk, in the yacht of a friend, I spoke 

 of the new sport. 



"Is it better than this?" he asked, as he hauled 

 in a big bluefish, while a bit of a squall tore his 

 cap from his head and the lee rail dipped be- 

 neath the foaming water. And again I was 

 silent. 



The king of fish had been discovered, but the 

 method of his capture was clumsy. The fish 

 was all right, but the hunter all wrong. A new 

 weapon or a new method was wanted and chance 

 led me to both. 



