FepT. 11, 1897.] 
FOREST AND STREAM, 
200 
MEN I HAVE FISHEU WITH. 
LIV.-E. R. Wilbur. 
The last part of the summer of 1880 found me gathering 
fishing statistics under direction of the United States Fish 
Commission for the census of that year; my assignment 
being from the mouth of the Connecticut River to Sandy 
Hook, and including Long Island. While stopping at 
Sayville I called on Mr. Wilbur, whom I had long known, 
and it was arranged that we should chum for bluefish the 
next day. Mrs. Mather was with me and was delighted 
at the prospect, because she had taken many bluefish 
while trolling from a sailboat, and she listened to my 
glowing account of chumming and of how superior it was 
to trolling, with great interest, but before the day was over 
she differed with me and declared in favor of sailing. 
Sayville is on the Great South Bay, which is about fifty 
miles long and some five miles across at its greatest width. 
It is a shallow bay, but famous for its fishing, fowling, 
oysters and crabs. The fish are weakfish, bluefish, king- 
fish, porgies, flounders, sheepshead, sea bass, and, occasion- 
ally, a few Spanish mackerel are taken, while Sayville, 
which is near the eastern end of the bay, is only a mile or 
two from the famous oyster beds of Blue Point, and 
sends thousands of bushels to market which become "blue 
points" when they reach the great city. It is 
an ideal place in which to live. 
We had clams and other bait for bottom fish 
if the bluefish were not running our way, but 
we lacked that essential of the chummer — a lot 
of menhaden, or mossbunkers, as they are 
sometimes called. In the party were two of 
Mr. Wilbur's nephews— sharp-eyed boys of 
fourteen to sixteen — and they kept a sharp 
lookout ahead as we cruised about, looking for 
bait. Soon one called: "There's a basket at the 
masthead," and we were brought up alongside 
the boat and laid in a supply of the noedful fish. 
In Great South Bay a bushel basket at the 
masthead means bait to sell, and saves both 
time and trouble. 
In order to give anglers who live far from the 
sea coast a clear idea of bluefishing, let me say: 
The bluefish is related to the mackerel tribe, " 
grows to a weight of IBlbs., is swift, strong, and 
the most destructive fish that I know of. The 
late Prof. Baird called them "animated chop- 
ping machines," for they kill for sport after 
they are gorged, biting pieces from the men- 
haden which they cannot swallow. The only 
thing they seem to fear is a school of porpoises. 
The menhaden 'is one of the herring tribe, 
short, deep and fat; it is seldom eaten, but is 
taken by thousands of tons each year for its 
oil, the refuse being dried and mixed with phos- 
phate rock for fertilizing purposes. 
As we anchored in a channel near Fire Island 
Inlet, Mr. Wilbur said: "Chumming for bluefish 
is a new form of taking them. Scott, in his 
'Fishing in American Waters,' in the edition of 
1875, does not mention it, except for striped bass, 
and he was an all-round salt-water angler. The 
first mention that I find in print of chumming 
for bluefish is by Mr. E.. B. Roosevelt, in 'Fish 
Hatl*hing and Fish Catching,' published last 
year" (1879). 
"Why," £ remarked, "I supposed that it was 
an old method, but I have little knowledge of 
salt-water angling. Martin B. Brown, the offi- 
cial printer for New York city, and I went 
down to Manasquam Inlet, New Jersey, in 1876, 
when I was with the old Aquarium at Thirty- 
fifth street and Broadway, and Martin taught 
me how to chum for bluefish, but just as we got 
started and had each taken a fish of about 41bs. 
from a school which had driven thousands 
of menhaden on shore, a school of porpoises 
appeared and served the bluefish as they had 
the menhaden. The bluefish which did not 
escape on the flanks of the charging porpoises, 
or by diving under them, were driven on shore 
in terror, and the beach was a sight of flopping 
fish. Martin and I forgot our fishing to wonder 
at the spectacle. The natives spread the word, 
and men, women and children with baskets, 
carts and wagons lined the beach within an hour and 
harvested the crop. There was no more fishing for us, and 
wo went home by the first train, gathering up enough 
fish to send to friends. That was a memorable incident, 
but not much bluefish'ng. Like the charge of the Light 
Brigade at Balaklava, 'it was magnificent, but not war,' 
nor chumming." 
All this talk went on to the tune of the chop-chop-chop 
of the boatman's heavy knife, as he cut a few menhaden 
into mince meat and scraped the pieces overboard, to float 
ofl^ toward the inlet on the ebb tide to tole the bluefish our 
way. 
"You see," said Mr. Wilbur to the ladies, "that when 
these small bits of fish fall on the water they sink a few 
inches as they are carried out by the tide; but there is an 
oily 'slick' on the surface and that carries the scent for 
miles, and if a school of bluefish strike it they follow it up, 
and so we get them to come to our anchorage. If they 
come to us it will be in a school of thousands, for the blue- 
fish travel only in that way. A few years ago some fisher- 
men noticed that when they sighted a flock of gulls feed- 
ing they not only found that they were gathering the 
crumbs from the feast of bluefish on menhaden, but that 
as the oily slick drifted off it enticed other schools of blue- 
fish, and so they evolved the sport of chumming; and in 
the fisherman's vocabulary 'chum' is the name of minced 
menhaden thrown overboard to attract bluefish." 
"A century or more ago," I said, "men chopped fish up 
to bait pools, or swims, but the fish so used were not oily 
and did not make a 'slick' on the water. Therefore, what 
they did was merely ground baiting and not chumming; 
and in fact, I think that the bluefish is the only fish which 
can be induced to follow a scent for a mile or 
more, although striped bass will trace it for quite a 
distance." 
Our boatman had taken a slice from each side of a men- 
haden, cutting about the middle and sUcing along the 
backbone to the tail, and these were laid aside for baits 
while the remainder of the fish, head and all, was hashed 
into chum and a little at a time thrown into the water. 
Since that day a bait mill has been put on the market and 
this relieves both fish and anglers from the noise of the 
chopping board and produces better chum. 
Some of our party used hand-lines and others rod and 
reel, the latter affording better sport. The hooks were on 
a foot length of either brass or piano wire, for the teeth of 
a bluQfish vrill cut the best gimp snell as easily as if it was 
an ordinary fish line. Their cutting capacity is such as to 
ruin a purse or a pound net in a few minutes, and they 
will snap at and cut a man's hand badly with their saw- 
like teeth. . 
After a while one of the party had a strike, and then it 
was lively work until the tide turned. One lady hooked 
the anchor rope and called: "Oh, I've got a shark; help!" 
And she did not join in the laugh when her catch was 
made apparent, merely remarking: "It's too bad, I thought 
I had the biggest fish in the bay, I believe I did have a 
big one until that rope got in the way. I wish we could 
fish without an anchor rope." 
Only those who have taken bluefish by chumming know 
what a fierce rush they make when hooked. There is no 
stopping to think it over nor running off slowly until it is 
certain that there is a hook with a line attachment in that 
last bit of menhaden, but it snatches the bait and is off 
like a rocket, making the reel hum like a locust. No fear 
E. R. WILBUR. 
From a photograph in 1897. 
of checking the rush too suddenly if the tackle is good, 
and if it isn't it would be wise to stay at home, for the mouth 
of this fish is hard and its jaws are strong. The savage 
snap which it gave the bait sank the hook well in, and if 
the line is kept taut the fish seldom shakes the hook loose, 
and more seldom does it tear out. 
When we troll for this fish with a sail boat going not 
over five or six miles an hour we use heavy cotton lines to 
avoid cutting the hands, and have a stall on the first finger 
of each hand, either of rubber or woolen, and the speed 
of the boat, added to the strike of a fish, makes a "chug" 
that would tear the hook clear from many other kinds of 
fish; but the bluefish stands it, and is hauled in by main 
strength, and is shaken from the hook with great regard 
to its dentition. This is fine sport, but inferior to chum- 
ming. 
In trolling there are various devices used to represent 
natural bait. Alost of these are called squids, because they 
shine as they rush through the water, much as the naked 
mollusk, whose name they bear, flashes through the brine. 
There are squids of lead cast around a long-shanked hook 
especially made for the purpose, and from 3 to 6in. long; 
these are scraped when they get dull. Then there are red 
flannel attachments to lead squids; squids of bone, round 
or flat; of mother-of-pearl, flat and spoon-shaped; red bone 
for Spanish mackerel, and hollow wooden squids, which 
open to allow a piece of menhaden to be placed inside, to 
attract bluefish by scent as well as by sight. _ An eel-skin 
drawn over a long piece of lead is an old-time lure not 
much used now; but there is little choice among all these 
devices, for a bluefish will snap at any bright, moving 
thing if trailed 80 or 100ft. behind a sail boat, no matter if 
the fish is gorged to repletion. Its mission is to slay for 
the sake of slaying, and it fulfills it to the letter. Most 
animals cease to Mil when hunger is satisfied, but a mink 
and a bluefish never stop as long as there is a living thing 
in sight. They kill for sport as a terrier kills rats, but they 
destroy their own food in their savage onslaughts, while 
what the terrier kills is not his food. 
After the turn of the tide there was time for luncheon 
and to review the incidents of the day. The school of fish 
which came in the inlet and attacked our bait was not 
large in numbers nor in size, but the day was a perfect 
one for angling, the breeze being light and the sun not too 
much in evidence. 
As it was but little past mid-day when the tide turned 
and the bluefish left the bay, we decided that it was too 
soon to sail for home and that we would try bottom fish- 
ing for anything that wished to sample such bait as we 
had to offer, and the clams were brought out to try their 
powers of attraction. 
A variety of fish sampled our clams and were welcomed 
on board the yacht and assigned quarters with the blue- 
fish. Under ordinary circumstances the porgies and 
flounders would not have associated with the cannibal 
bluefish, but at that time the savage blues were very 
peaceable, contact with civilized man had evidently had 
its influence and they were quiet. 
Mr. Wilbur said that the inlet channel was not the best 
place for bottom fish, because they did not stop long in the 
swift current but scattered over the bay in search of the 
food which lives in more quiet waters. 
"Where Is the best place in the bay for sheepshead and 
other fish which feed more or less on the bottom?" I 
asked-. 
My host considered a moment, and replied: 
"The cinder beds are probably as good as any, 
if not the best. They lie near Point of Woodfe, 
opposite the fish factories, and are not real cin- 
ders, as many suppose from the name; but the 
bottom is a hard, gravelly one, on which for 
centuries the tube- worms have built their dwel- 
lings, and have cemented patches of gravel to- 
gether in a manner that appears like a cinder 
when an angler's hook gets hold of a piece, as 
it is very apt to do, and brings it to light cov- 
ered with more or less mud. The more recent 
of these crooked tubes contain living worms, on 
which many fishes feed when they catch them 
with their heads out." 
Here was a chance to exhibit a little technical 
knowledge which had been picked up some- 
where, and I said: "From the way these tubes 
twist and lock into each other the scientists call 
them Serpula contoriuplicata. They fasten to 
and weight down scallops so that it is difficult 
for that mollusk to swim. As the worm grows 
it lengthens its tube, and they always fasten it 
to rocks, shells or other hard substances, and 
a mass of old tubes might easily suggest a cin- 
der. I should think that hooks would get fast 
in the masses very often." 
_ "They do, and it is very annoying. Some- 
times the piece is too heavy to lift and then 
something must break, either hook, snell or 
cinder; but the beds are such good feeding 
grounds for many fishes that one is willing to 
risk losing some tackle on such good feeding 
grounds. Perhaps we will try the beds some 
day." 
As we parted at the landing we all agreed 
that the day had been a most enjoyable one 
every way. We had fish enough, but not so 
many as to be a burden, and for one I was glad 
of the chance to practice chumming for bluefish 
in a more complete manner than on the day 
when I first tried it with Martin B. Brown on 
the New Jersey coast. There was not enough 
of that to write up, and I never fished with 
him again. 
Mr. Wilbur was one of the early members of 
the Blooming Grove Park Association, which 
has an extensive game preserve, with many 
lakes and miles of trout streams, in Pike county. 
Pa., and served terms as president and secretary 
of the Association. During his term of office I 
met him there to select the site for a trout 
hatchery. We traveled about a good part of a 
day and found several excellent locations, from 
which we chose one after much deliberation, 
and trout breeding has been carried on there 
each year since with great success. 
When the National Rod and Reel Association 
was formed, in 1882, for the purpose of hold- 
ing fly-casting tournaments on Harlem Mere, 
Central Park, New York city, Mr. Wilbur joined it, and 
while he did not compete in the contests, he was 
always ready to act as judge or referee. At the first 
dinner of the Association, held in the Metropolitan 
Hotel, Mr. Wilbur made some remarks about a 
very old salmon which Mr. E. G. Blackford had 
kindly sent to the dinner, and told us that it bore the 
marks of a very old fish, and had been caught in the Del- 
aware River, a most unusual catch. Mr. Wilbur thought 
the fish a stray one from the Connecticut, for the Dela- 
ware River was not known as a salmon river, although 
every few years a salmon was taken in it. Quite a dis- 
cussion followed about salmon rivers and stray salmon, in 
which I took no part, but, like the Irishman's owl which 
he sold for a parrot, "didn't talk, but kept uj) a divil av 
a-thinkin'," and it resulted in my repeating former 
recommendations to Professor Baird, then the United 
States Fish Commissioner, to make the Hudson a 
salmon riyer, and he sent me eggs to begin the experi- 
ment that winter. By his remarks at that dinner, Mr. 
Wilbur unconsciously stimulated a thought which resulted 
in stocking the Hudson with salmon — an experiment 
which has been partially successful, and only lacked 
proper support and appreciation by the State authorities 
to have made the Hudson a self-sustaining salmon river 
to-day. 
Mr. Wilbur was a member of Company A, 7th Regiment, 
New York National Guard, so far back as when the drill 
room was over a stable in University place. He went with 
the regiment to Washington on their memorable march to 
the Capitol in April, 1861, as a non-commissioned officer. 
There they were quartered for awhile in the Capitol build- 
ing, and among Mr. Wilbur's reminiscences of the time is 
an address by President Lincoln to the troops camped in 
the Senate chamber. Near the end of his time of service 
he was sent from Washington with dispatches to Col. 
Smith, a recruiting officer at Albany, whence he returned 
to the 7th Regiment Armory, then over Tompkins Market, 
in this city, where he remained with a part of his regiment 
during the draft riot. I have mentioned these facts because 
