Oct. 29, 1904.I 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
of waders. They brought me more pleasure, I am sure, 
than any seven-league boots of the fairy tales could have 
done. Nothing can equal the •thrill of walking down the 
heart of a river, following the current and your inclina- 
tion, and being able to place yourself so that the silken fly 
can dance out on the water beyond you — just over the 
"dead head" where you wish to place it. 
Yes, you know he was there — a big one. At the second 
cast out he rushes, and in a twinkling the connection is 
made, and he belongs to you. There is no one near, the 
boat is waiting around the bend, but you smile as you 
measure his twelve inches with your eye while you land 
him. It was the position that gave you the chance. No 
boat would have answered, the cast would not have been 
possible from the bank; it was the waders that did it. 
So now, as I look into the fire, I see many things which 
bring back my two angling experiences. I see the sur- 
roundings, the charming setting of the scenes; I see the 
river in its motion ; I see the sunlight glisten on its sur- 
face; I see the color of the heavens and the fleecy clouds 
floating by;T see the faces of the friends and companions 
a-stream; I see the leap of the trout and the rush for 
the fly — and in the midst of all I see those big, yellow, 
No. 10 waders. Mabel Woodward. 
Impromptu Trout Lures. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Do read the annexed deposition from the "Anglers' 
Book of Revelations." It hardly sounds like "Truthful 
James" or John his brother, both of whom were 
expert fishermen in apostolic times at the beginning of the 
Christian era. Nevertheless, since it is vouched for (?) 
in cold type by a journal whose reliability has been 
fathered by four consecutive generations of trustworthy 
publishers, will not those who angle be "almost per- 
suaded?" Will not some even swallow the substance of 
the statement as the untutored trout swallow the new- 
fangled bait ? I copy : 
"Something About Trout. — Once, while casting from a 
canoe, when, at dusk, the night-hawks were very thick, 
I slapped the flies again and again on the wings of the 
gyrating birds, and on one occasion dislodged a feather, 
which, falling to the surface of the lake, was seized by a 
trout. On another occasion, in Maine, casting at sunset, I 
hooked a muskrat through the back. The rat crawled up 
on the bank; the hook carried away a little film of skin 
and hair without hurting the frightened creature* Re- 
covering, I cast and took a trout on that tuft of hair, 
which, added to the Parmachene-belle on my leader, 
seemed to do the work as long as it lasted. Yet, when 
it was gone, substituting* a black gnat with chenille body 
and head wings, the trout knew the difference, and refused 
the offer." — Harper's Weekly. 
Here, Mr. Editor, is a man, an averred eye-witness to 
all the idiosyncrasies he recites, who does not have to 
patronize the tackle shops for artificial flies. Not one 
cent can the dealers exact for tribute from this inde- 
pendent rodster. He just sits in his light canoe (being 
nerfectly at ease in the ticklish craft), and flicks the 
feathers out of bull-bats and other birds which flit in the 
dusk, and snips the fur out of muskrats and that ilk 
when they are not noticing ; does it all with his own little 
hatchet — I should say with his light fishing-rod — and thus 
obtains infallible lures for the trout which deploy in the 
pool around him, enjoying exceptional success. No other 
baits or lures will do at all — not even "a black gnat with 
chenille body and head wings." Intelligent trout recognize 
the old-time seductions, but are not up to these improved 
devices which bear the caveat of the wily angler, and only 
Harper's Weekly had the secret ! But this at once became 
too good to keep, and so was unconscionably published — • 
literally given away to a grateful guild, of which Forest 
and Stream readers are fortunately members. 
Happy the contributor who can thus find his offering 
"available." For there are many who do not quorum 
pars fui. Charles Hallock. 
Off the Jersey Coast. 
Asbury Park, N. J., Oct. 21. — A review of coast fish- 
ing is not conducive to extravagant praise as relates to 
the season now drawing to a close. 
Perhaps there have never been more enthusiasts at all 
the favorite points, and it is safe to assert that disappoint- 
ment has been the portion of the majority. Striped bass 
took the hook fairly well for a brief period in June, but 
left us unusually early, and only an occasional straggler 
has since appeared. The harvest moon tides usually give 
us a run of good fish, but the exception was the rule, as 
only one fish was taken during that period at any of the 
near-by points. 
Kingfish were very scarce the entire season, but those 
taken were most remarkably large, and in nearly every 
instance female fish heavy with spawn. There is a most 
peculiar fact in relation to the spawning of kingfish, as 
we began taking them early in June with ripe ova, and the 
same condition prevailed throughout the entire season. 1 
have taken many specimens late in October with ova fully 
developed and apparently ready to be voided. If the same 
conditions exist with any other member of our coast fishes 
I am unaware of the fact. 
The man who observes things each recurring season is 
almost sure to add to his store of knowledge or develop 
some surprise. In all the years that I have followed salt- 
water fishing previous to this, I have never taken a 
spawn-bearing weakfish on the hook, and had discussed 
the subject with many others, most of whom had had the 
same experience. As if to emphasize the never-ending 
vagaries of fish life, out of the first seven fish taken by 
me the present season, five contained well matured spawn. 
We ordinarily look forward to a heavy run of weakfish 
on the beach during August, September and October; but 
their movements have been very erratic. Some days fairly 
good sport was to be had, and the next, when conditions 
appeared equally good, not a fish would be in evidence. 
All this, however, relates to beach and pier fishing. 
There is another class of fishing which has sprung into 
universal favor, and it is my pleasure to say that the past 
few weeks have given me the finest fishing I have ever 
had on the New Jersey coast. Thanks to those genial 
surfmen, Brit Slocum and Charlie White, whose knowl- 
edge of the briny and the haunts of its denizens no man's 
excels, we three congenial spirits— Ennis, Crosson and 
myself— have had many days of supreme delight. While 
yet the stars are in evidence, after a hastv breakfast, we 
hurry to the beach. What though the sea seems a trifle 
boisterous, our surf-boat, equipped with powerful gaso- 
lene engine, is launched, and away we go out over the 
liar, where the breakers are tumbling ; but the rapidly re- 
volving propeller shoots us through and on to where the 
long, steady roll assures us there is no flying spray to 
dampen either our ardor or our breeches. In the early 
morning light is made out the heavy line of smoke from 
some passing steamer of the coast lines, trailing back in 
the yet heavy atmosphere. Toward that we go, arousing 
from their repose the gulls ; and the ubiquitous loon slinks 
away on heavy wing, wondering perhaps at the noise of 
the rapid exhaust of our engine and the clatter of human 
voices. 
In the stem of the boat stands the sturdy figure of 
Brit, his experienced eye taking in the familiar ranges on 
the rapidly disappearing shore-line. At a signal of his 
hand, Charlie shuts off the engine, and we come around in 
answer to the dropped anchor and swiftly paying out 
cable. Rods and reels are quickly adjusted, and the 
polished squids are attached to the lines and dropped 
overboard. Down, down they go, forty, fifty, maybe sixty 
feet, until they touch bottom, for it is there we seek the 
quarry. We are fishing for weakfish. After reeling up 
about three feet, the squid is kept rapidly in motion by 
continually twitching the rod. If we are on the right 
spot (and we usually are), very soon the rod, which was 
moving upward, is rapidly shot downward, until the top 
is buried far beneath the surface, and an untamed some- 
thing is entire master of the situation. Under and around 
the boat it goes, the line hissing through the water. • But 
nature tires, and gradually the conquering reel brings into 
view the flashing, fighting victim, and if well hooked a 
helping hand lays the exhausted pugilist in the boat; his 
weight is 6, 8, possibly 10 pounds, for many of the latter 
weight have we taken; and regard for his fighting quali- 
ties gradually merges into admiration of his splendid 
changing colors, putting to blush the brightest rainbow 
that ever graced a morning cloud. Before the first is 
boated, probably a second and third is hooked, and every- 
body is busy. 
The transition from the sublime to the ridiculous is al- 
ways easy, and the next to inspect the flashing squid may 
be of such small size as to draw forth remarks more or 
less uncomplimentary. Surprise is always in store for the 
one who pursues deep-sea fishing; it is always uncertain 
what species will strike the bright metal. I have taken 
in this manner bluefish, bonito, weakfish, croakers, plaice, 
porgies, sea bass, whiting, ling, hake and skate. There is 
always an expectant crowd watching the landing of our 
boat, to whom the catch is welcome, other than perhaps 
one or two of the choicest specimens for home use. 
Superb fishing, however, has been had by different 
members of our club who have enjoyed the pleasures of 
Harvey Cedars. Leonard Hulit. 
Massachusetts Trout Stocking, 
The Westfield (Mass.) Anglers' Club received a con- 
signment of nine cans of fingerling trout from the State 
Fish and Game Commission yesterday. The trout were 
taken to Westfield by Deputy Shea, and arrived in prime 
condition. The cans contained fully 2,500 trout of un- 
usual size. They were exceedinely lively. Members of 
the club placed the fish in several different streams. The 
trout are all large enough to take care of themselves, and 
through the winter and spring should grow to good size. 
The Anglers' Club is doing good work stocking the 
streams, and should be more generously supported by the 
sportsmen. — Springfield Republican, October 22. 
Cruising: in Nova Scotian Waters. 
BY S. J. ALLEN. 
The several cruises described in this article were 
made during the months of July and August of 1903 
along the southwestern coast of Nova Scotia, 
from Halifax to Shelburne. I made my head- 
quarters at Chester, which is situated on Ma- 
hone Bay, about forty-seven miles west of Halifax. 
Mahone Bay is the most ideal yachting ground one 
could wish for, it is about eight miles wide at the 
mouth. Across the entrance stretch the islands of Big 
and Little Tancook, which form a natural breakwater 
for the waters within; dotted over the bay are about 
one hundred islands, large and small, most of them clad 
with green trees to the water's edge. Chester is lo- 
cated at the head of the bay, and is a great summer 
resort for American tourists. There is a small but en- 
thusiastic yacht club there, which holds races every 
Saturday and an open regatta once a season. 
The yacht Menotah, in which these cruises were made 
is a 24ft. waterline, centerboard sloop. Her over all 
length is 33ft., and her breadth oft. 10 in., with rather 
high freeboard. She was designed principally for 
cruising, but a fair turn of speed was expected. Her 
hull is strongly constructed of oak and pine. The bal- 
last consists of about 1,400 pounds of lead hung out- 
side in a long shoe, through which the centerboard 
passes, and about 1,200 pounds inside. The 800 sq. ft. 
of sail is divided into the mainsail and one jib. The 
mainsail has three sets of reef points, and a storm 
jib is used when the last two reefs are tied down. The 
cabin is about 10ft. long, with 4ft. oin. headroom, and 
is finished in cedar and oak. On each side of the cabin 
there is one berth with a transom in front, giving sleep- 
ing accommodations for four persons. On each side 
forward of the berths are placed lockers for stores and 
dishes. Forward of the cabin is a galley with a small 
cast iron wood stove. 
The question of stoves aboard a small yacht is a very 
perplexing one, some preferring one kind and some 
another. Having tried all kinds of oil and blue-flame 
stoves, I have given them up in disgust and have finally 
dedd&J 00 -the woo4 ftQve, such as i§ used by the coast 
fishermen in their boats. One is always certain of a 
good fire with this kind of stove, and it cannot ex- 
plode. I use as fuel old oak cask staves, which, when 
cut up into short lengths, make a beautiful clear fire 
and scarcely any smoke. Our nights are often cold, 
and the genial heat given out by this little stove adds 
much to one's comfort. 
Menotah has proved herself to be a fine sea boat, and 
fast on a reach or a. run, but not so good to windward. 
She sags off to leeward a good deal, not having suf- 
ficient lateral plane. l am seriously thinking of taking 
out the centerboard and substituting a keel, being con- 
vinced that a keel boat is far more preferable for Nova 
Scotia waters. 
For some time I had been contemplating a trip to 
Halifax, and as there were two ^achts in the harbor 
also bound for that port, we decided to make the trip 
in company. I was only able to get one companion 
to go with me, and so was rather short handed. The 
other two yachts were Hermes, from Yarmouth, N. S., 
formerly champion of the Massachusetts Y. R. A. 25ft. 
cabin class, and Marion, from Boston, another 25- 
footer. 
The day of departure dawned beautifully clear and 
bright, with a strong N.W. wind blowing, which later 
on increased to half a gale. However, as the wind was 
off shore, and as our course would be before the wind, 
we decided to start. We tied down three reefs and put 
on a storm jib. Our dinghy was rather heavy to tow. 
so we gave her plenty of line, as we knew there would 
be some long seas running when we got outside. 
Hermes got away about twenty minutes before us, 
while Marion started at the same time we did. We 
let go our moorings at 10:30 A. M., and beat out to 
the mouth of the harbor, rounded the point and squared 
away before the wind. Getting the full sweep of the 
wind, Menotah sped across the bay toward Little Tan- 
cook, for we had to pass between this island and the 
mainland. 
We soon reached Tancook Island, passed between it 
and the mainland, and emerged upon the open sea, 
where we got the full force of the wind and sea. Three 
miles from Tancook lies Ironbound. which name it 
well "deserves, for it looks like a great block of iron 
rising abruptly from the ocean. There is a powerful 
coast light placed on this island, and about iy 2 miles 
E. by S. from the island is an automatic buoy, which 
enables one to pick up the island in a fog. On our 
port hand opened out to the N. St. Margaret's Bay, 
which is nearly as large as Mahone Bay, but more ex- 
posed to the sea. We had some trouble keeping our 
dinghy from ramming Menotah's stern, and as a safe- 
guard we bent on an extra tow rope. 
From Ironbound Island it is a straight run of 24 miles 
to Sambro Island. At 1:30 P. M., we passed Betty's 
Island, on which is a lighthouse showing the entrance 
to Propect Harbor. This island is just half way to 
Halifax, and so we had been traveling at a pretty fair- 
rate of speed. Marion had gradually drawn away from 
us and was now about a mile in the lead. We were, 
however, closing up on Hermes. We passed Pennant 
Point, which runs a good distance out into the sea 
m a series of long reefs. The outer reef is marked by 
a red cone buoy, and about i l / 2 miles out to sea is 
placed an automatic buoy. It being a fine day and 
having fair wind, we ran through the Sambro ledges. 
This is one of the worst places along the coast, and 
very dangerous in thick weather. Sambro Island lies 
about iy 2 miles from the mainland and is surrounded 
on all sides by rocks and reefs. On the island is a 
powerful coast light, and a fog gun, discharged every 
two minutes in thick weather. The channel through is 
deep enough and safe in fine weather to one who knows 
the way. In thick weather very few will venture 
through this way. Opposite Sambro Island is a fine 
anchorage known as Sambro Roads. 
From Sambro Island to Chebucto Head, at the en- 
trance to Halifax Bay is 5 miles; and we soon covered 
this distance after rounding the head, on which there is 
a light and steam fog whistle. We trimmed sheets and 
headed up the bay. The land along here is very^high 
and steep, and in the hard puffs Menotah heeled down 
until the cabin house was in the water. W<* kept her 
to it, however, and only luffed once on the passage uo 
the bay. The harbor of Halifax is an easy one to 
enter, being well buoyed and marked. A course N from 
Chebucto Head brings one straight up the harbor We 
arrived at Halifax at 4:50 p. M... and anchored off the 
Royal Nova Scotia Yacht Squadron club house. "HavW 
made the trip up 111 6h. aora,, an average of 7.3 knots 
