July 1$, 1905.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
81 
‘ habit our lakes, rivers and brooks nearer at hand, his 
tastes are, as a rule, gratified only in their pursuit. But 
the anglers are comparatively few who can becorne 
lessees of salmon streams or spend one or two weeks m 
trout waters, and the great majority find their recrea- 
tion — and it is a blessed thing they can do so — in a day’s 
sport now and then among the gamy bass, the beautiful 
and sprightly squeteague, the strong and dogged fighter, 
the pollock, the crafty and powerful tautog, and other 
fishes which are found in great abundance all along the 
Atlantic coast where they are easily accessible and free 
■ to all. E. A. Samuels. 
The Log of a Sea Angler. 
The Ttma Season. 
(Concluded from last week.) 
I fished to-day with Mr. Dennison, of Philadelphia, 
the opening of the Tuna Club tournament. There were 
prizes of rods for anglers and boatmen, for the first 
tuna of the season. Jim’s boat was on the ways, and in 
a weak moment we took another and smaller one, 
though a good-sized yawl. I had a strike off our^ 
canon, and never enjoyed a play so well. The fish, 
vdiile powerful, was not a Hercules. I was fishing with 
a 21-thread line, and a jointed light greenheart rod, 
my yellowtail outfit. I wished to try the experiment. 
It detracts from my pleasure to know that I have the 
advantage, which the fish should have. This tuna was 
caught fairly, and by the watch I brought him to gaff 
. in just forty minutes. I know this well, as it was the 
' last token I had from a valued timepiece. The tuna 
played on the surface like a bonito, did not sulk, and 
was a splendid picture of activity. As I brought it to 
: the quarter, Mr. Dennison went forward to give me 
full play, and Gardner gaffed it cleverly and slid it into 
the boat. The next I knew, I was treading water. I 
have an indistinct recollection of seeing the_ fish bend, 
leap into the air, land on the gunwale, tipping the 
boat and capsizing her. I was standing in the stern 
at the time overhauling my line, ready to hold the fish 
if it should attempt escape, and the boat literally 
f dropped from beneath me. I began to tread water 
and my head did not go under, so I rnerely stood in 
; the water, holding my rod and laughing at the ex- 
traordinary suddenness of the change of scene. 
But we were nearly a mile offshore, and our tender, 
a large launch, was six hundred or one thousand feet 
away, lying off to clear the line and not frighten the 
fish. I hailed her at once by waving my hat. At ^at 
precise moment the new engine refused to work. The 
boat had gone down stern first, shot up into the air, 
covering the water with the varied articles of the 
angler — rods, oars, gaffs, boxes of tackle, pies (lunch) 
and many articles which spread out over the smooth 
surface. 'The boat as it shot up, fell over on to my 
companion, who, as Gardner and I righted her, called 
that he could not swim, and, as any helpless man 
would, threw his arms about the bow, clinging to it, 
which had the effect of rolling the craft over and over. 
He was also handicapped with an overcoat, while I was 
weighted down by thick corduroy hunting suit and leg- 
gings. It was very evident that my companion was in 
a bad plight. The boat would not hold three of us, 
continuing to roll over despite the efforts of Gardner 
and myself; so I suggested to the boatman that we turn 
her bottom up, get the helpless angler on it, flattened 
out, and that we try the swim to the launch and assist 
in bringing her up. t j-j t 
This we carried into execution, or, rather, i did. i 
noticed that Jim was not very active; but there was not 
much time to think, so I turned the boat over and we 
pushed Dennison on to the bottom and found that he 
was all right and could float by not moving. The tuna 
had passed out of my mind, and as we struck out for 
the launch, I was thinking of the main chance of reach- 
ing it so handicapped; but we could swim, and Den- 
nison could not, so it was the only thing to do. Gard- 
ner had been a professional swimmer before he became 
a tuna gaffer, and I was fairly, at home in the water; 
and had we been dresssed for the swim, it would have 
been an easy matter. Exactly how far we swam, I do 
not know. I remember I was very weary, and that. I 
experienced a decided sense of relief when a shout 
came over the water and I saw the launch had started 
and was coming to pick us up. The launch had slowed 
down, and was not fifty feet from me, when my boat- 
man’s wife, who was on the launch, screamed that her 
husband was drowning. I stopped swimming and turned 
around. Far away I could see Dennison’s form on the 
bottom of the yawl, but Jim had disappeared. I knew 
that he was a perfect swimmer, and there was but 
one conclusion — sharks — and as I started to swim 
back, I fully expected to see the dun-colored shapes 
that I had always scorned, and whose courage I de- 
spised; but up out of the depths came an apparition, 
Gardner’s head. . . 
“What’s the trouble?” I shouted, swimming toward 
him as quickly as possible. , 
“All right, sir; I’ve got the tuna,” he replied, then 
disappeared suddenly, as though jerked from below, 
while the loud screams of his wife again came from 
the launch. . , ^ , 
I was amazed, and could hardly believe that Gardner : 
could have held the gaff through all the excitement; 
but up he came, and now alongside, I saw that he held 
the gaff, on which was hooked my lusty tuna that three 
times jerked this plucky gaffer down out of sight. The 
fish evidently would run ahead, turn and bore down, 
hauling the boatman down several feet, a performance 
at once sensational and extraordinary, but one that 
did not disturb the serenity of the boatman in^^the 
slightest. At my offer of assistance, re replied, “I’m 
airright, sir,” and struck out with his right hand in a 
lusty stroke, dragging the struggling fish. 
I reached the launch first, and well exhausted, hung 
to the rope thrown me; but when the men attempted to 
haul me on board they could not accomplish . it; my 
corduroy suit was like lead,. so I hung a few moments, 
when I was gradually hauled aboard. In the meantime 
Gardner had s'eized a rope thrown by his wife, and now 
threw his legs about the propeller and rested. I 
leaned down while the men held me by the legs, and 
when Gardner lifted up the tuna I ran my arm into its 
mouth, grasped it firmly by the gills, and gave the word; 
the men hauled me by the legs, and I the tuna, which 
I dropped in the cockpit, where it flung itself about as 
though perfectly fresh. We then hauled Gardner 
aboard and ran alongside the yawl and threw a line to 
my plucky companion, who had insisted, in answer to 
our constant shouts, that we save the fish before_ pick- 
ing him up, when he learned that Gardner had it. A 
line was thrown him, which he made fast about his 
waist, and by this he was brought through the water 
and up the side of the launch. The boat was then 
picked up, while a fisherman who had rowed out began 
to gather the wreckage, which was now spread over 
several acres of the channel. This accomplished, we 
started for shore. We were hardly underway, when I 
thought of a fine rod and valuable reel now at the bot- 
tom of the bay, with other things. At that moment 
Gardner reached down and discovered a hook that was 
fastened to his trousers. To the hook was attached a 
line, and the launch being stopped, Gardner hauled in 
nearly six hundred feet of a 21-thread line, attached to 
which was my rod and reel that had been down to the 
bottom of the bay. In the flurry the hook had becorne 
detached from the tuna and had caught in Gardner s 
clothing, and he had towed it as well as the fish. 
The tuna weighed but 95 pounds. I hangs on my 
study wall, a silent partner in one of the most remark- 
able fish stories it was ever my fortune to hear of, 
much less be a party to, and it is an excellent illustra- 
tion of the cleverness and pluck of California boat- 
men and gaffers. How many men would have held a 
bleeding tuna a mile out in a channel where sharks 
were known to be in evidence around the .tuna schools; 
held a fish powerful enough to drag a man under water. 
Not many, I venture to say. This realistic angling 
drama made Jim famous. The story was telegraphed 
far and wide, and I learned from a friend that he read 
a graphic account of the affair, doubtless with embellish- 
ments, in Paris the following day. 
From these accounts it may be assumed that many 
tunas have been caught; but up to date but forty men 
wear the blue button of the Tuna Club, showing that 
they have taken a lOO-pound fish. This does not mean 
that the fish do not bite well, as hundreds have been 
hooked and eluded the lure in skilled and untutored 
hands. There is a charm about this strenuous sport 
difficult to explain. The soft winds, the cool air in 
summer, the splendid blue of the Santa Catalina Chan- 
nel, the contrast of rock and sea, the perfect calm of the 
bay, the romance of the island, all combine, perhaps, in 
making the chase of the elusive tuna one of the most 
interesting of pastimes. In the evening, when the 
moon rises out of the sea, I stroll away from camp, 
climb the side of the canon by one of the many sheep 
trails, and reaching the divide, look down on the silent 
summer sea; then turn and trace the dark, winding 
canon that reached up to the distant mountains like a 
great sinuous snake. Somewhere, perhaps not far away, 
is the old temple. I may stumble upon it some time 
by merest accident. Then I descend and join the group 
around the camp-fire, the men barbecuing wild goat 
over the coals for chili con came, and I ask Mexican Joe 
if he thinks the temple is up the canon, to which he re- 
plies, “It’s up there somewhar.” I must find that 
temple. C. F. Holder. 
Ouananiche. 
During the first few days of the ouananiche fishing 
this season in the Grand Discharge, anglers were some- 
what incommoded in the pools immediately below the 
grande chute by the number of logs which were being run 
through the rapids. The water was fortunately high 
enough to allow of speedy driving by the river men, and 
before the last of June the drive was practically over. It 
is gratifying tO' learn that the fish are running larger this 
year in the Discharge than for the last two or three years, 
which certainly showed quite a falling off in size. Mr. 
George Donaldson, of Harrisburg, Pa., had very good 
sport there some dags ago, and his fish w'ere of very fair 
size. Several 4 and 5-pound fish have been taken by local 
sportsmen, and the guides and Island House people are 
at present having a pretty busy time. 
Ouananiche are certainly not as capricious as the sal- 
mon of the sea in their choice of artificial flies. One 
angler assures me that the fish in the Grand Discharge 
rose to almost every fly which he offered them in the. 
first day or two of July, and he tried about half the flies 
in his book, of which he had quite a goodly array. This 
is more than can be said for salmon, even when they are 
in good rising humor. Yet I have often had days on the 
Discharge when it was difficult to coax the ouananiche 
with any kind of a fly at all. Sometimes they will_ take 
the professor or coachman or brown-hackle or grizzly- 
king as readily as the most beautifully tied salmon fly. 
At other times they are fastidious enough to want a Jock- 
Scot, a Durham-ranger or a silver-doctor, or to refuse Jo- 
rise at all. This is why I always counsel friends and vis- 
iting anglers who talk or write to me about the Grand 
Discharge to be sure to have a few good standard salmon 
flies of various sizes with them. For, fishing in the heavy 
water where the largest fish usually lie, and where the 
best of the sport is to be had when a fish is hooked, a 
No. 3 or 4 hook is none too large, though in quieter 
places, and when the weather is hot and the water clear, 
the fly can scarcely be too small, and one of the largest 
fish which I have seen killed in the Discharge — an 8- 
pound ouananiche — was taken on a No. 8 hook. Then, 
too, a General-Hooker or B.-A.-Scott fly is as good as a 
Jock-Scot, but it must be very small. 
E. T. D. Chambers. 
The Gut Crop of 1905. 
Messrs. S. Allcock & Co., Ltd., report that the gut 
crop last year, 1904, was the smallest produced for the 
last twenty-five years, consequently prices were advanced, 
but the present crop, 1905, is less than: the average, and, 
stocks being low, prices for raw material have, advanced. 
As regards the heavier classes, tbe supply is tfie smallest 
for the last dozen years, ' 
Edward Carver^s Heroism. 
Asbury Park, July 8. — It is always a source of much 
greater pleasure to me to tell the Forest and Stream 
family that there is much doing and great things in pros- 
pect than to write of monotony and_ disappointment. 
June always gives us the best of our striped bass fishing, 
and the month closed, has been rather disappointing. 
While some very fine fish have been taken, still the sum- 
mary is not great. 
Kingfish are very scarce. Of the hundreds of rods fish- 
ing each day, I do not think it exaggeration to_ say that 
a half dozen fish in a week would total the entire catch. 
'Phis, when compared with experiences of past years, is 
most remarkable. A few weakfish are being taken now 
from the piers and also from the beach. It is a little 
■early to expect good catches at these points, as August 
and September usually give good results. Barnegat is 
hardly up to the standard as yet; some bluefish, however, 
are in the bay and they always give a zest to fishing, no 
matter where found. 
In the absence of so much of our old-time glory many 
of the fraternity now turn their attention, when the sea 
will permit, to off-shore fishing. Of course this is not 
to be attempted without a skillful surfman, but when con- 
ditions are favorable the reward is great and will be much 
in vogue now until late in November. We always have 
our fishing and sailing yachts ; but your true angler cares 
but little for the sport to be had on theni, as the motly 
throng always aboard savors not of his kind of sport. 
To those, however, who delight in sailing only, the op- 
portunity offered is superb, and this season the swift 
yacht Ivanhoe, owned and sailed by Capt. Frank Pierce, 
is now in commission. She is from the fleet of the New 
York Y. C. flyers, and is a beauty. I had the pleasure 
the present week of being a guest on board for a cruise, 
and cannot say too much in behalf of ship and crew. A 
most pathetic incident, however, marred the close of the 
sail. When we were about one and a half miles from 
the anchorage, a young lady (whose name by request of 
the mother I withhold), slipped over the yacht’s stern, 
and but for the heroic effort of Mate Edward Carver 
must have been lost. So rapidly was the yacht threshing 
through the water that a full quarter of a mile was gone 
over before assistance could reach the thoroughly ex- 
hausted girl. It is a pleasure to record heroism of this 
type. The brave act will ever stand a bright monument 
to the credit of Edward Carver in the estimation of all 
who witnessed his valorous deed. Leonard Hulit. 
A Turtle Trade. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
A more or less regular visitor at the port of Erie each 
season is the schooner Bertha Wallace, Capt. A. Winne. 
She is only 35ft. over all and lift, beam, and hails from 
Port Clinton, Canada. Her only cargo is of turtles that 
are carried in a squirming mass down in the hold. She 
made her first voyage for this season a week ago, being 
later this year than usual, as the turtles are rather scarce 
yet, Captain Winne says, but he expects to do better 
from this out. He only had 2,800 pounds this time. 
These turtles are caught in traps set in a marsh be- 
hind Long Point, Canada, nearly opposite to Erie. The 
traps are much like fish nets and are baited with fish. 
Captain Winne has often as many as sixty traps set. They 
have to be watched as carefully as an anirnal trap. The 
captain has been in the business now for thirty-five years ; 
he is a full cousin to Postmaster-General Wynne, though 
he spells his name a little differently._ 
The turtles he brought over this time would not aver- 
age more than 9 pounds each, though a few of them 
weighed 20 pounds. The largest one he ever brought 
here weighed 6o pounds. It was kept in Erie to furnish 
soup for the patrons of one of the hotels. 
These turtles, when they arrive here, are turned over 
to a fish company, which ships them all over the country, 
a good many of them going to a company in Ohio that 
then ships them East. 
To unload the turtles, a man gets down among them in 
the hold, then seizing each one by its tail, never by its 
head, he gives it a quick fling that lands it always on its 
back on the dock; here another man, taking a new tail- 
hold, throws it into a box, which, when it is full, is 
nailed up and shipped right off. 
There is no duty to be paid on these turtles ; they seem 
to- have been forgotten when the last tariff was made up 
They are not even protected here in the United States, 
at least not in this State, though the frogs are. 
Cabia Blanco. 
Bluefish vs. Black Bass. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Your article under the above title reversed admits of 
some adverse criticism. If your fresh-water angler tries 
the blues on “relatively” light tackle I do not think he 
will make the unfavorable comparison he does, again. 
Why should the fighting quality of a fish of 4 to 6 pounds, 
caught with a rod of 10 ounces, and line evidently 18 or 
21-thread, be judged when such implements are used and 
the fish gaffed in five minutes? The time consumed in 
boating him savors strongly that “horsing” him was re- 
sorted to, and suggests that the same method was used 
upon the black bass, naturally resulting in the demolition 
of the two rods. The relative resilient power of rods of 
equal quality is not judged in the usual percentage ratio, 
for instance, an eight-ounce rod is more than twice as 
strong as a five-ounce rod; a ten-ounce rod in the hands 
of an angler has five times the strength of a four-ounce 
rod used with the same skill as the lighter one. A blue- 
fish weighing from 3 to 6 pounds and (I have frequently 
found a 3-pound fish to fight harder and longer than a 5- 
pound fish) caught on a four or five-ounce rod, and nine- 
thread line, will give as pretty a fight as any fish that 
swims, perhaps barring some varieties found on the east 
coast of southern Florida. I will venture to say, that the 
bluefish will play the same havoc in shorter time than 
the bass did. when he put the rod out of business, if the 
same tackle is used. Weight for weight and size for size 
the black bass is noi in the same class with the blue. Let 
Mr. try the blues on a bass rod and line and reel and 
if lie has anything left worth bringing home of his outfit, 
that his skinned knuckles will admit of carrying, I shall 
be surprised after his blaqk bass experience, C, T- Pond,. 
