THE ROYAL PURPLE GAME OF THE SEA 



the lucky stabs of the game, do not in any sense 

 prove what swordfishing is or what it is not. 



In August, 1914, I arrived at Avalon with tuna 

 experience behind me, with tarpon experience, and 

 all the other kinds of fishing experience, even to 

 the hooking of a swordfish in Mexico. I am in- 

 clined to confess that all this experience made me — 

 well, somewhat too assured. Any one will excuse 

 my enthusiasm. The day of my arrival I met Par- 

 ker, the genial taxidermist of Avalon, and I started 

 to tell him how I wanted my swordfish mounted. 

 He interrupted me: "Say, young fellow, you want 

 to catch a swordfish first!" One of the tuna boat- 

 men gave me a harder jolt. He said: "Well, if 

 you fish steadily for a couple of weeks, maybe you'll 

 get a strike. And one swordfish caught out of ten 

 strikes is good work!" But Danielson was optimis- 

 tic and encouraging, as any good boatman ought to 

 be. If I had not been fortunate enough to secure 

 Captain Dan as my boatman, it is certain that one 

 of the most wonderful fishing experiences on record 

 would have fallen to some other fisherman, instead 

 of to me. 



We went over to Clemente Island, which is thirty- 

 six miles from Catalina Island. Clemente is a moun- 

 tain rising out of the sea, uninhabited, lonely, wild, 

 and beautiful. But I will tell about the island later. 



The weather was perfect, the conditions were ap- 

 parently ideal. I shall never forget the sight of the 

 first swordfish, with his great sickle-shaped tail and 

 his purple fin. Nor am I likely to foi^et my disap- 

 pointment when he totally ignored the flying-fish 

 bait we trolled before him. 



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