496 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[July 10, 1890. 



SEA FISHING OFF THE MAINE COAST. 



HAVING never seen anything about deep sea fishing 

 for cod and pollock in Fokest and Stream, I hare 

 thought it might interest some of the readers of the 

 paper to read ^n account of one of a number of days' 

 fishing which I enjoyed during the summer of 1888 in 

 company with two friends, among the men who make a 

 Jiving with their hooks and lines. 



Joe S., Lin H. and the writer were camping, or rather 

 staying, aboard of an old pinkie, whose days of useful- 

 ness were past, excepting the purposes for which her 

 owners used her, that is, for a temporary stopping place 

 while fishing, and for a place where they could dress 

 down and store their catch until sold. She was anchored 

 in a snug little harbor known as Damis Cove, on an island 

 of the same name, noted all along the coast as a safe 

 place to be when the heaviest storms M ere raging. The 

 owners had kindly vacated the premises for the time 

 being, leaving us in full possession of a house and all the 

 equipments for comfort; that is a good cooking stove and 

 utensils, bunks, beds, etc. 



Of the party Joe was the oldest in age and experience 

 having lived on the island the first sixteen years of his 

 life and visited it every two or three years since. He 

 knew all the harbors and most of the fishing shoals, and 

 above all could sail the boats with the best of them, and 

 was aho a good cook. Lin was on his first camping trip 

 and expected lots of time to rest, as he expressed it, and 

 he did not get it, which will perhaps partially account 

 for what followed. As for myself, I had camped out 

 several times and was anxious to gain all knowledge pos- 

 sible on the subject, for I expected to be able to use it in 

 the future, so I was ready for anything and took what 

 came and tried to make the best of it. 



And now to the twenty-four hours that proved to be 

 the most memorable of our trip. We had enjoyed good 

 fishing on the shoal near by, but were wishing for a 

 chance to go outside, when we heard that pollock were 

 biting freely on the western grounds about 9 miles off 

 shore. We immediately made preparations to go over to 

 Cape Newagen after bait. Lin did not want to go, so 

 Joe and I started about the middle of the afternoon, ex- 

 pecting to get back that night. We got over to the cape 

 just as the fishermen were coming in with their day's 

 catch. We helped them unload and dress down, which 

 means to prepare the fish for saltmg. The fish, which 

 were mostly pollock, with some cod and haddock mixed 

 in, were thrown from the boats with small pitchforks 

 into half hogsheads, called tubs. A tub and a half was 

 considered a good day's catch. The first operation in 

 dressing down, is to take the fish by the head, draw it 

 over the edge of the tub, and with the cutting knife the 

 throat is cut to the backbone, just in front of the nape 

 bones, with one stroke. With another the belly is slit 

 and continued well down the side of the anal fin; the 

 backbone is then broken at its connection with the skull 

 and another cut of the knife takes the head off, and the 

 fish is ready for gutting. The liver is carefully taken 

 out and saved for the purpose of making cod liver oil, 

 all kinds going into the same barrel. The oil is now an 

 important item in the year's profits. After gutting the 

 fish is thrown on to the splitting table, where. the back- 

 bone is taken out with two distinct cuts of a knife, made 

 for the purpose, leaving the fish flat and ready for salt- 

 ing after it has been rinsed off in clean water. The whole 

 operation of dressing down is done so quickly that one 

 must realize how fast an expert can do it. The splitting 

 requires long practice and a strong wrist to do it neatly 

 and quickly. This job all done we get supper and then it 

 is time to start for the bait. The net is loaded on to one 

 of the large dories, Joe and I taking the place of one man 

 for a share of the bait. John Gray and Joe take the oars 

 for a three mile row, and I trim the boat and enjoy my- 

 self, after reaching the grounds and while waiting for 

 the herring to school, which they do just after sundown. 

 John Gray, who is about 60 years old and has been fish- 

 ing ever since he was strong enough to pull an oar, tells 

 us much about the life of a fisherman and the habits of 

 the fi*h. 



Not many minutes after the sun went out of sight be- 

 hind the Georgetown hills, we heard the herrings c mi i un- 

 toward our station. The sound we heard was like that a 

 heavy shower would make as the rain struck the water, 

 and was caused by the fish as they flipped out of the 

 water, then tails striking with a spat as they went under 

 again. The noise was incessant and could be heard for a 

 long way each side of us. There was a big run, and as 

 at times countless numbers would throw themselves a 

 foot and more above the water in their endeavor to escape 

 the rush of some large fish or seal, it would seem as if 

 every herring in the ocean had gathered together and run 

 into that particular bay. It was a sight never to be for- 

 gotten, and one that even those who were in that same 

 place nearly every day during the season saw but once or 

 twice in a year. As they came near we let out about 60ft. 

 of our net, which was 8uft. wide and over 100ft. long, 

 with inch meshes. In less than five minutes after the 

 first fish struck the net the floats commenced to sink, and 

 we hauled it back into the dorv and Joe and John rowed 

 back to the dock. After picking out the fish and placing 

 the net in position for another trip, all done at the same 

 time, we found that we had captured nearly a barrel of bait. 

 Often times the catch is less than a bushel, barely enough 

 to last a man for one day's fishing, and as the herring are 

 very soft and will not last over twenty-four hours, the 

 trip after bait has to be taken every night. By this time 

 it had got to be so late, 11 o'clock, and there being no 

 wind, Joe and I concluded not to try to go back to the 

 island, and accepted Mr. Gray's invitation to stay with 

 him. We went up to the house, and after a light lunch 

 were shown to our room, and for the first time in six 

 weeks I slept in a soft bed. 



In the morning we wished we had taken our blankets 

 and slept m the dry salt bin as we had done before: the 

 bed was too soft after being used to a common board and 

 blanket. We only had three horns' sleep anyway, as we 

 were called to breakfast at 2 A.M.; before 3 we were 

 down to the boats. We got under way as soon as possible 

 and started out; some of the boats were even then out of 

 sight. As we went out of the harbor we could plainly 

 see Segum L'ght off our starboard bow, with several 

 smaller l.ghts inshore in plain sight. There was a fine 

 wind blowing off shore that would have carried us right 

 out to the fishing grounds, but it was Lin's last day with 

 us, and as Monhegan Light cam» in sight off the south 

 end of the island we hauled off and headed for the 



island, never thinking but that he would be thankful 

 for the chance of going out with us, although we knew 

 that he did not enjoy such trips as we did. It was 

 nearly daylight before we rounded to beside the old 

 pinkie, and as Joe went down the companion way I took 

 out what blankets and things we did not want, and as I 

 went down the companion way I heard Lin growling, 

 almost swearing at Joe for waking him; he said it was a 

 pretty time of day to get up, and that he would not go 

 out with us. We got out. If we had staid, there would 

 have been music. He never knew what he escaped that 

 day, for Joe kept getting madder every minute, and sev- 

 eral times after we were well out of the harbor he swore 

 he would go back and string him up to the masthead by 

 the heels and see if that would wake him up; but as we 

 went along the calmness of the mighty ocean along with 

 the exercise of rowing (for the wind had all died out and 

 we had settled down to the long row ahead of us) soon 

 caused us to think different thoughts, and we afterward 

 set it down as one of the pleasant "episodes o' the trip," 

 as old Sam of the Kingfisher family would have called 

 it. 



All the same, our well-meant thoughts of doing Lin a 

 favor cost us a nine-mile row, which was no fun, and 

 what to us was worse, the loss of the best part of the 

 fishing, for when we arrived on the ground nearly every 

 boat had a half catch. Notwithstanding the drift of the 

 undertow which that morning was directly opposite the 

 flow of the tide, we found ourselves afoul of another boat 

 and had hooked on to their anchor line before we had 

 caught a fish, and then we had to pick up our anchor, 

 which, as we had about sixty fathoms of line, was no 

 easy job, and then get underway and try again. This 

 time we did better, and we were soon hauling in some 

 big pollock. It was not long before we felt well repaid 

 for all our trouble. We were fishing in thirty fathoms of 

 water, using what is called a dibs, line with a lib. sinker. 

 For bait we had on each hook three half herrings. One 

 man could tend to two lines, if he wanted to work hard 

 enough; one was enough for us when the fish were biting. 

 It was exciting when one had hooked a 6 or 81bs. pollock, 

 for they can make a good fight at the end of 180ft. of 

 line. We dare not let them run, and at times on their 

 way up they would turn head down and sulk, all we 

 could do was to hold hard and wait for them to give in, 

 and then one had to take line pretty fast in order to keep 

 them coming: by the time the fi-h got to the top of the 

 water they were nearly drowned, and often times, when 

 the hook brook loose as w r e were lifting them over the 

 side of the boat and they dropped back, we would have 

 time to gaff them and sometimes catch them with our 

 hands by putting the fingers in the gills before they could 

 recover sufficiently to get out of reach. The pollock is a 

 very handsome fish, and we were told that they were 

 often shipped We t and sold as black salmon. 



After we had been fishing an hom- or so the sea breeze 

 came up, and as it kept blowing harder and more steady 

 right against the tide, it soon kicked up a bad choppy sea, 

 and it became more and more like work to catch fish, and 

 as a memento of the day I carried black and blue spots on 

 the sides of my legs for more than a week. I stood in the 

 narrow forward standing room, and as the boat would 

 jerk and jump around it threw me up against the wash- 

 boards, first one side then the other, until I finally had to 

 give up fishing. Then, to amuse ourselves, we com- 

 menced to toll up some Leach's petrel (Cymochorea len- 

 corrhoa) with fish liver cut fine, which they devoured 

 greedily. We soon had twenty -five or thirty alongside 

 the boat where we tried to catch them with our hands, 

 but it was no go; they were too quick. We kept this up 

 until tired, and then we tried angling for some 2 or 3 

 hagdens or jaegers (Ste/xoi'arhis 2oarasiticit.s) that were 

 hanging around: they would dart down and pick up all 

 the liver we could throw them. As the smallest lines we 

 had with us were so heavy a3 to sink the bait before it 

 got far enough away from the boat for them to take it, 

 we were not successful in that venture. Joe told me that 

 he had often caught them in this way when a boy; they 

 were more plenty then and would come nearly as "close as 

 the petrels did. The fishermen have a grudge against 

 them, and kill them whenever they can, so that they 

 have learned to keep further away and out of danger. 

 At this time the wind was blowing very hard, and we 

 began to think that it was time to start for the island, 

 especially as a thick fog had settled down and hid the 

 whole shore from view, and all but two of the other 

 boats had gone in. So we up anchor, hoisted the fore- 

 sail, and started. We dare not put up the mainsiil and 

 jib, there was too much wind and sea. The wind was 

 fair, and the difference in the speed and ease with which 

 we went into the harbor was very noticeable when we 

 compared it with the ash breeze and hard work of coming 

 out. The first two or three miles we had to steer by com- 

 pass, and then we had the whistling buoy booming away 

 off the port side; after passing that we sighted the red 

 buoy that lies near Bantam Reef— a very dangerous spot, 

 and one on which many a good boat has gone to pieces in 

 the past — then the mountains on the mainland loomed up 

 through the mist, and then the lower lying islands became 

 visible. 



Just off the mouth of the harbor Joe sighted a splitting 

 knife floating in the water, and tacked about to pick it 

 up; he lost sight of it while tending to the sails, and, as I 

 was lying down at the time, we failed to find it again. 

 However, we kept on for a little sail on this tack; the 

 boat seemed to fairly fly over the waves, and, although 

 we got wet with the spray that dashed into the air from 

 the bow, we thoroughly enjoyed it, and were sorry it 

 could not last longer. As there was no land between us 

 and the other side of the ocean, and as we were not pro- 

 visioned for a long cruise, we concluded to turn around 

 and head for the island, where we soon found ourselves 

 on board the old pinkie again, and our day's fishing was 

 at an end. As we had had nearly twenty- four hours of 

 a new experience, we concluded that we had fun enough 

 for one day. We made short work of dressing down our 

 half tub of fish. Nearly all of the other boats went in 

 with a tub and a half to two men, and by the time the 

 fishermen had packed away their catch and had their 

 supper it was time to go for bait again. Thus, the men 

 who follow fishing for a living get only three to four 

 hours' sleep out of the twenty-four, unless it is during a 

 spell of bad weather and on Sundays. Still, all the fish- 

 ermen that I met were, as a rule, the healthiest, most 

 independent and best-heartrd men it has been my privi- 

 lege to meet, and my wish is that they may always be so. 



Elmer T. Jvw>. 



Lake Champlatx Fishing.— I came up here just as the 

 ice was going out, but in time to catch a few frostfish. 

 I cannot see anything to mark a difference between these 

 and the salt-water smelt (Osmerus mordax), and take it 

 they are identical, but that some stay the year round is 

 certain, as dead ones wash up now and then in summer, 

 although they never take bait after the ice goes. They 

 were ripe and spawning the last of March. They seemed 

 to move in schools and did not bite at all well last winter. 

 The three men I fished with seldom took over twenty 

 dozen a day altogether. Wall-eyed pike would occasion- 

 ally take the halt (a piece of frostfish) and yellow perch, 

 ripe and spawning also, and now and then a ling. Wall- 

 eyed pike are plentiful this summer, and the black bass 

 have begun to take hold, though not freely, on the rocky 

 shores, that is, with live bait, although I have no doubt 

 they would rise to a fly.— Thomas Lee. 



Baltimore, Md. — There is good fishing at present in 

 Bush River. Rock, white perch, yellow perch, catfish 

 and eels are all common. "Peelers" are the most success- 

 ful bait.— A. L. S. 



WITH FLY-ROD AND CAMERA. 



TN size, interest of text, wealth of illustration, and beauty of 

 production, the most notahle work on salmon fishing issued. 

 See advertisement elsewhere. 



CONTENTS OF CHAPTER VI 



The Last Day in Camp— Spawning Habits of the Salmon— Salmon 

 Runs-The Sea Trout, its Gameness, its ldenty— The Winni- 

 nish— Lake Edward— Lake St. John and its Fishing— The 

 Peribonca and the Ashuapmouehouan Rivers— The Land- 

 Locked Salmon. 



CONTENTS OF CHAPTER VII. 



The Morning of Our Last Day on the River— A Rise in the River- 

 Long Oasts— Excellence of the Split-Bamboo Rod— About Fly- 

 Casting Tournaments— Excitement in Running Rapids— A 

 Rise— An Exciting Struggle— A Stubborn Salmon— Landed in 

 a Novel Manner— Great Sport— Charms Attending the Angler's 

 Life— Beautiful Thoughts on Angling by Different Authors- 

 Retrospective Angling— At the Third Pool Aerain— A Narrow 

 Escape from an Accident— A Souvenir— Frere Rises a Good 

 Fish— A Gx'and Battle— Triumph— Give the Guides a Chance- 

 Hiram Rises a Salmon and Lands it after a Short, Struggle- 

 Notional People are Guides— William has his Innnig Also- 

 Valedictory. _ . 



THE TROUT CULTURE DELUSION. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



I have read the communication of Mr. Win. N. Byers, in 

 your issue of June 19, and desire to answer his points seri- 

 atim. And first, I did not in the remotest manner manifest 

 disappointment because my former article did not provoke 

 or attract more attention, as any unbiassed reader will ack- 

 nowledge who reads said article. Indeed, one of the eldest 

 and most experienced anglers in this country, one who has 

 and continues to angle over a wirier range of territory than 

 probably any other person in this country, read my article 

 in question and also the subsequent one, said he was fully 

 convinced that my article could not be successfully contro- 

 verted, and he is himself an extensive writer of angling 

 literature who was formerly, in common with all of us, en- 

 thusiastically in favor of trout culture, but who now ack- 

 nowledges that it is a delusion, so far as producing a visible 

 increase of mature trout is concerned. This is the verdict of 

 nil well-informed men who have no axe to grind. The fact 

 that there were fifteen years ago several hundred persons 

 engaged in trout culture in this country, wheras there is 

 nor a baker's dozen so engaged to-day. except by virtue of 

 public funds, is of itself sufficient testimony of the futility 

 of the now exploded business. 



1 have no certain means of knowing whether I have pre- 

 viously heard of Mr. Byers, consequently I am not "after" 

 him any more than others of the rapidly diminishing and 

 already very small circle of ill-informed persons who are 

 either consciously or unconsciously endeavoring to keep 

 alive a gross delusion. 



Mr. Byers seems to think that because of an alleged catch 

 of sixty-four fish in one day, most of which were planted 

 fish, that he has sufficient evidence of the success of trout 

 culture. And be says he can give a list of fifty or a hundred 

 streams, impliedly, which have been improved by stocking. 

 How does Mr. Byers know that those streams have been thus 

 improved? Has he fished them all? I have personal know- 

 ledge of numerous streams which have been stocked and 

 some of them repeatedly, and very many more which have 

 never been stocked, and it is nothing remarkable to take 

 sixty-four or more fingerlings from any of these streams, 

 no matter whether stocked or not. The larger specimens 

 are generally from the unstocked streams. 



Mr. Byers says I will ask how he knows that the fish re- 

 ferred to by him are Eastern trout? Mr. Byers evidently 

 thinks me very green regarding the various types of brook 

 trout. 



In next to the last paragraph of Mr. Byers' article, the ob- 

 ject of the communication will be apparent to tbe general 

 reader. He has waters to lease to some embryo trout cultur- 

 ist, providing he can find some one verdant enough to try it, 



In his last paragraph, Mi*. Byers attempts to be sarcastic, 

 by his gratuitous assertation that I mourn a life wasted try- 

 ing to raise dollar trout to sell at twenty-tive cents. I pre- 

 sume this is just as truthful as his other fish stories. Of 

 course I did not even intimate anything of the ki nd. On the 

 contrary, 1 take pride in having given the subject of inland 

 many more years of personal attention than any other 

 fisheulture, including trout culture (while that branch of 

 the business remained within the pale of respectability,) 

 American. 



And finally, Mr. Byers will condescend to show me how to 

 raise trout, as well as how to catch, cook and eat both wild 

 and tame ones, if I will only come out there, and I won't 

 even have to risk my life in a Territory. Very kind of him 

 truly! 



And now in conclusion, I wish to say to my callow friend, 

 that, judging from the general tenor of his communication, 

 I was probably years in a "territory" before he was born, 

 and knew something of "black-spotted" trout, of native an- 

 glers and mouthey tenderf eet. What he does not know about 

 fisheulture would make a huge volume, while what he does 

 know could be written on the address-side of a postal card. 

 I speak of his apparent knowledge. Mr. Byers has a "heap" 

 to learn before he will be capable of enlightening any old 

 fishculturist. If he lives long enough in Colorado, he will 

 find that the Eastern trout will conform to the peculiarities 

 of the native trout both as to spawning season and mark- 

 ings. He will also learn that there will be cycles of abun- 

 dance and scarcity of trout in all waters adapted to them, 

 precisely as in the case of all varieties of fish, and without 

 the least regard to artificial stocking. The fact that more 

 Eastern trout are taken than native ones proves nothing ex- 

 cept the probable fact that the Eastern trout were introduced 



