

HOW I MADE TROUBLE WITH A FISHING PARTY. 69 
as there was hardly a vacant place on any 
of the decks, and before I had my hooks 
baited there were half a dozen fish in the 
air. They kept coming, sea_ robins, 
squids, porgies, black fish, begolls and oc- 
casionally a sea bass. I got my hooks to 
the bottom all right and all the time could 
feel a little jerk, jerk, but when I pulled 
up my bait would be gone, and I had no 
fish. My neighbor, a good-hearted fei- 
low, I reckon, had got on to the fact that 
I was “strictly fresh,” for he told me it 
was the little begolls that took the bait, 
and my hooks were so large that they did 
not get caught, but any way after an hour’s 
fishing, my bait was almost gone, and } 
had no fish. 
I had just pulled up and was about to 
re-bait, when some one above called out 
“a shark,” and, sure enough, 30 yards 
from the boat could be seen his back fin 
sticking up, perhaps a foot above water, 
motionless. 
What prompted me to do it, I don’t 
know, but no sooner did my eyes fall on 
that fin than my right hand, which held 
the half pound sinker, came backward and 
the sinker went flying through the air, the 
line, loosely coiled, going out freely and 
the end tied to the railing. My muscles 
were good in those days, and I could throw 
straight. The sinker struck the water just 
forward of the fin and about 3 feet beyond 
it. I gave the line a yank and then the 
trouble began. The fish was too heavy to 
pull in. The line was a strong 16 cord 
hard twist and new, and wouldn’t break, 
and all 4 of those hooks must have set. 
The dog-goned thing went forward with 
a dart. The line held and turned him in a 
circle just back of the anchor chain at the 
bow of the boat, where I lost sight of him. 
but I imagined he kept going for I 
shortly saw that all the lines along the 
side of the boat were being dragged back- 
ward. Later I found the fish had gone 
clean round so that the 300 lines were all 
bound together under the keel. 
Had I had my senses when I first real- 
ized the danger, and cut my line, the fish 
might have swam away. But I don’t know 
that I could havehelped it any, for my knife 
was in my pocket and the whole business 
was over before I could have gotten it 
out and opened it. 
Some ideas never come to me except by 
freight train anyway. Many a time since 
have I gone over that scene in my dreams, 
but always wake just at the wrong time 
to dream out what I should have done. 
Imagination can better describe the sit- 
uation than words. One line 30 feet long 
can sometimes get pretty well snarled by 
itself, but take 300, each 100 feet long, tied 
together 30 feet below the surface, and that 
underneath a boat, would make chaotic 
confusion confounded. 
I skipped and although I could not leave 
the boat, I went aft and hid myself in the 
crowd. The air took on a tinge of blue 
when it was found what the trouble was, 
and shortly I got myself to the lunch 
room and fed myself on clam chowder. 
To add to the situation there came from 
the West an innocent looking little cloud, 
which as it came expanded itself into 
long streaks, and although there was little 
rain in it, it was chuck full of wind, which 
in a very short time kicked up the water 
so that even the sailors took hold of sup- 
ports in passing round. Until then I did 
not know that so many on board had no 
better sea legs than mine. We all were 
sick together. There weren’t sofas enough 
for one in 20 of us, so those who couldn’t 
sit on stools stretched out on the decks. 
The captain, seeing the general condition 
of things, decided it wasn’t worth while to 
stay longer, so the anchor was lifted and 
we started home. This was a mistake, for 
be it remembered there were about 125 16 
cord lines forward of the wheel and as 
many or more ait, all tied together under 
the boat. So many cords laid together 
make a fair sized rope, and a little twisting 
converts into a real live hawser, strong 
enough to tow a liner. 
The wheels Hadn’t made half a dozen 
turns before one of them fouled some of 
the lines, and thereby drew in all the rest 
and clogged it up until the engines couldn’t 
turn it. Down went the anchor again. We 
rolled with the swell, now growing less, as 
the squall had passed by, while the sailors 
had to go down in the water and cut the 
cords so the wheel could revolve. 
We reached the city about sundown, a 
disgusted lot of fisherm n, but I went again 
next day, buying a new outfit, and with my 
experience of yesterday to work on, caught 
a goodly number of fish. 
However, I’d about as soon catch fish 
by seining, trammeling or trolling as by 
hand line in the deep sea. 

