THE SALMON'S RIVAL. 



C. F. HOLDER. 



It is singular that little is known in the 

 East as to Southern California fishing; for 

 here we have some fine game fish. In this 

 paper I wish to present to the reader the 

 amber fish, or white salmon; * a fish quite 

 up to the salmon as a fighter, and, by many- 

 anglers, preferred to it. 



I first saw the fish at Santa Catalina isl- 

 and, 5 or 6 years ago, when, I believe, there 

 was not a rod nor a reel on the island. I 

 had heard of the amber fish, but had never 

 caught one; though its cousin, the yellow- 

 tail, of the Gulf of Mexico, I had often 

 taken. 



I was sitting on the hotel piazza one day, 

 when suddenly the little bay, usually quiet, 

 was disturbed as though a volcano was be- 

 neath it. Waves of foam appeared here and 

 there, the water fairly boiling. 



"Fish! amber-fish! white salmon! yel- 

 low-tail!" and other cries broke forth on 

 the street, and the whole town went mad. 

 Men rushed from stores, tents and houses; 

 others looked out of the hotel windows for 

 a moment, then ran down to the beach, 

 shouting for lines and boats. In less than 

 10 minutes the wharf and shore were lined 

 with fishermen; while 40 or 50 boats were 

 being pushed off. 



The amber-fish had " sot in," as an old 

 boatman expressed it, and were feeding on 

 small fry, chasing them in-shore and almost 

 on to the sands. At the first alarm I ran to 

 the beach, and, with a friend, pushed off. 



We were equipped with hand-lines of 

 about the thickness of a cod-line, or what 

 I have used in the East, with Abby and 

 Imbry hooks, with a piano wire attach- 

 ment. Two lines were soon out, baited 

 with 4-inch sardines. As I looked into the 

 water I could see large fish, 3 to 4 feet long, 

 that looked like salmon, darting here and 

 there, as quickly as flashes of light. In a 

 moment the hooks were taken, and the 

 sport commenced. We soon landed a fish 



* " The ' Amber-fish ' or ' White Salmon ' of the waters 

 about the Santa Barbara islands, is a Carangoid fish, be- 

 longing in the same family with the Pilot-fishes and the 

 Pompano. In the books it is called Seriola dorsalis, Gill. 

 It reaches a length of 4 to 5 feet and a weight of 30 to 40 

 pounds. Individuals of less than 15 pounds are seldom 

 seen. 



" It ranges from Cape San Lucas Northward, beyond the 

 Santa Barbara islands, where it is found in great numbers 

 during spawning season, from July to early fall. Perhaps 

 about the middle of August is the height of its spawning. 



" It feeds on squids and such small fish as the anchovy. 



" It is an excellent game fish, caught chiefly by trolling. 

 As a fresh fish it takes high rank, although large ones are 

 apt to be coarse and tough. When salted and dried it is 

 inferior to no other fish on the California coast, even 

 equalling the white-fish and the barracuda. About the 

 Santa Barbara islands it is called 'Amber-fish. 1 'White 

 Salmon,' ' Yellow-tail,' and 'Cavasina.' '' — Jordan & Ever- 

 mann. 



on each line. I do not intend to dwell on 

 this fishing for it was too tame, but merely 

 to say the boats roamed up and down the 

 bay, the fishermen hauling in the magnifi- 

 cent fish, weighing 10 to 40 pounds, about 

 as fast as they could work; while the people 

 on the beach had their share of the sport 

 too. 



I had a good 16-ounce bass-rod, used in 

 the East, and I determined to try it with 

 these fish. The following year I took it 

 with me to the island. Several other an- 

 glers had also taken their rods. Now no 

 one but the station fishermen thinks of tak- 

 ing this fine fish with hand-lines. 



Opinions differ as to rods, but the ma- 

 jority of anglers use a 16-ounce split-bam- 

 boo, a reel that will hold 500 or 600 feet of 

 Nos. 15, 18 or 21 cuttyhunk, and a cod- 

 hook with a long piano wire leader, with 

 several swivels. For bait, a 4 or 5-inch sar- 

 dine is used. I think the ideal equipment 

 would be a split-bamboo, in weight a little 

 heavier than a black-bass rod, with a silk 

 salmon-line; the only trouble being that 

 silk rots in salt water. 



I recommend a tarpon reel, one to hold 

 500 or 600 feet of 21-strand line. It should 

 be a multiplier and have a click or brake, 

 and a leather brake as well, that can be 

 pressed against the line. The angler also 

 needs a leather belt with a butt-receiver, or 

 cone, in which the rod can be secured. I 

 would suggest gloves, or leather tips for 

 the fingers. 



With an equipment something like this, 

 and a No. 18 line, I started out one day. 

 The oarsman rowed along shore, in the 

 deep shadows of the island. Here and there 

 the water was colored with vast shoals of 

 fish: yellow-tail, barracuda, white sea-bass 

 — beauties, weighing 5 to 50 pounds; while 

 off in deeper water the albicore and tuna 

 were chasing flying-fish and playing havoc 

 with small fry. 



We had gone perhaps a mile when my 

 line started out with a rush, and the reel 

 screeched a sharp staccato note. I had out 

 100 feet of line, and 100 more went before I 

 began to check the fish. It required great 

 care to prevent a total wreck of rod, reel 

 and line. 



It was nearly 20 minutes before I could 

 make any appreciable gain: the yellow- 

 tail coming in faster than I could reel; 

 darting out like, an arrow; then sulking at 

 the bottom, to dart again to the surface, as 

 gamey a fish as ever took a bait. 



In half an hour I had him alongside, with- 

 in reach of the gaff, but even then he was so 

 powerful and desperate that it required re- 

 peated attempts to gaff him. With a huge 



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