Nov. 8, 1913. 
FOREST AND STREAM 
591 
Florida Fishing 
By GEORGE A. IRWIN 
M AYPORT, situated at the mouth of the St. 
Johns River, twenty-four miles from Jack¬ 
sonville by rail or water, was visited by a 
larger number of fishermen than usual during the 
past season; and though the fishing was not of 
the best early in the spring, as the season ad¬ 
vanced fishing improved, and during October and 
up to the middle of November the channel bass 
fishing was the best in years. 
The tourist fisherman coming to Florida in 
October can spend a few days at Mayport pleas¬ 
antly and have good sport catching channel bass, 
drum, sheepshead, trout and a variety of small 
fish. The accommodations are comfortable, the 
boatmen competent, accommodating and moder¬ 
ate in their charges. 
When our party of four boarded the train 
for Mayport one evening last October it was 
raining, and gave promise of dirty weather on 
the coast. When we arrived at Mayport the 
rain had slackened somewhat, but the sound of 
the sea breaking over the north jetty was borne 
to us by a strong northeaster. 
On turning out early in the morning we were 
confronted with the prospect of a poor day’s 
sport. The rain had ceased, but the sky was 
leaden and the northeaster still strong. While 
we were waiting for breakfast our boatman, 
John Tillison, showed up and informed us he 
had a fine lot of live bait in the well of his 
launch, and that as soon as we had eaten we 
had better be on our way. Soon we were aboard 
and headed for the north jetty. We had hoped 
to fish for bass, but owing to the heavy swell 
on the bass grounds were obliged to fish along 
the inside of the north jetty, but we had fair 
sport catching sheepshead, drum, school bass and 
several varieties of small fish. One of the party 
becoming seasick, we were obliged to seek 
smoother water, and ran back to the oyster bar 
opposite Pilot Town, where we caught a few 
trout, but were greatly troubled by skipjacks 
cutting off the bait about as soon as it struck 
the water. 
My companions returned to Jacksonville on 
the 4:20 train, and took back a nice lot of fish 
as a result of the day’s outing, the largest of 
which was a drum weighing fifteen pounds. 
While sitting on the upper veranda of the 
hotel that evening enjoying an after-supper pipe, 
and having visions of what I was going to do 
to the finny tribe on the morrow, I received a 
most welcome surprise in the arrival of my 
friend Paul, companion on many a freshwater 
fishing trip. Of course, I had to give an account 
of the day’s sport, and we burned up consider¬ 
able tobacco before finally turning in. 
A blustering morning greeted us, but in the 
lee cf the north jetty we caught a number of 
small fish. About the middle of the forenoon 
we saw a launch drop anchor on the bass 
grounds, but as a heavy swell was coming in, 
we predicted that it would not stay there very 
long. But we were false prophets. An hour 
passed and the boat was still there. Finally our 
boatman remarked that if those fellows could 
stand that rough water fishing and get any fun 
out of it, he reckoned we had better join them. 
Paul and I not being subject to seasickness 
agreed with him, and after a short, but wet trip, 
we dropped anchor near the launch, which be¬ 
longed to one of the Mayport boatmen, who 
had out an Atlanta fisherman. And the reason 
was that they had caught twelve fine bass. 
We had hardly settled down to fishing be¬ 
fore Paul and the boatman, who were using 
hand lines, each had a strike. Paul landed his 
fish, while Tillison’s line parted. I had the next 
strike and had some difficulty in landing the 
fish. I was using rod and reel and after the 
first rush had to stand up to handle him. It 
was so rough that it was all I could do to keep 
my footing. Paul, after enjoying my acrobatic 
stunts for a few minutes, came to my assistance. 
Standing behind me he got his hands under my 
belt and acted as a buffer till I brought the fish 
within reach of the boatman. 
About this time a shout from the other boat 
attracted our attention, and it was evident that 
the man from Atlanta had hooked a big one. 
It was a pretty contest for a while, but the fish 
was gradually worked in nearer the boat. Then 
there was a swirl and flash of white on the 
crest of a big roller, and the fisherman reeled 
in a slack line. A shark had robbed him of the 
“big one.” 
Paul and the boatman caught another fish 
apiece, and I hung one or two, but did not suc¬ 
ceed in landing them, one breaking my line after 
being brought up alongside the boat, and when 
I thought most of the fight had been taken out 
of him. The tide having changed, the fish stop¬ 
ped biting, and we returned to Mayport. 
The following morning it was fair and 
warmer, and as we left the dock, Tillison prophe¬ 
sied that we would have some good fishing on 
this, our last day. On our way out we stopped 
at Fort George Island, where the boatman 
caught a fine lot of young mullet in one of the 
sloughs, while Paul and I gathered in a few 
fiddler crabs for sheepshead bait. 
The tide not being at the right stage for 
bass fishing, we ran out near the end of the 
north jetty, where we caught a number of 
sheepshead, drum, croakers, etc. Later on we 
crossed over to the bass grounds, near the south 
jetty, where we dropped anchor opposite the 
wreck of the dredge St. Johns. A short dis¬ 
tance west was the freighter Dover, driven high 
on the sandbar, making out on the seaside of 
the jetty. Lying across the jetty, out near the 
end, was the wreck of the German tramp Zee- 
burg, stern reared high in the air, against which 
the sea was breaking in a smother of spray. 
I had caught a bluefish and a whiting before 
Paul, and the boatman got down to business. 
Then the bass began to take notice, and we were 
kept pretty busy, sometimes two of us having 
a fish hooked at the same time. Of course we 
lost a number, but the sport was exciting. While 
Paul was trying to gain some line on a fish that 
was putting up a hard fight, a swell struck us 
and landed Paul in the bottom' of the boat, 
but he kept his grip on the line, and getting on 
his knees, renewed the fight. When the bass 
was within a short distance of the boat, a shark 
cut it off. What was said about this sea r.obber 
will be left to the imagination of fishermen who 
have had similar experiences. 
At the end of a couple of hours we had 
taken sixteen bass ranging in size from twenty- 
five to thirty-five pounds, -and decided we had 
caught fish enough for one day, so pulled up the 
anchor and returned to Mayport. 
Murray Cod and Yellow Belly Perch. 
BY H. IC. ANDERSON. 
My dear old comrade B., with whom I 
knocked about New South Wales and the North 
and West of Queensland for many years, shear¬ 
ing, droving, mining, etc., has just returned from 
an extended trip through the Warrego country, 
a feeder of the great Murray River, whose system 
drains an enormous area, embracing portions of 
New South Wales, Victoria, South Australia and 
Queensland. Throughout the whole of the 
Murray watershed, Murray cod (Oligorus mac- 
quariensis ) and yellow-belly perch ( Plectroplites 
ambiguus ) about, and great was the sport en¬ 
joyed by my old chum. Ide visited many of our 
old droving camps on the Warrego, etc., journey¬ 
ing along the tracks down which we last brought 
1,200 store bullocks and 1,000 cows from the 
Diamantina Lakes, way back in the early eighties. 
Fished the same deep pools and mused on the 
glorious times we had together in the days 
“when my beard was black.” Near Cunna- 
mulla there is a very large water hole in the 
Warrego River, whence enormous cod have been 
taken at times, and on this hole B. pitched his 
camp for a week, while spelling one of his buggy 
horses that had strained a fetlock. In the good 
old days we mostly fished for cod with a spinner 
made from the capacious “blade” of an iron 
kitchen spoon, mounted with a big triangle and 
some red flannel on the business end, and a heavy 
brass swivel at the top. This was generally 
attached to a stout line, tied to a twelve-foot 
bush sapling, and many and large were the cod 
caught. 
Having just left civilization, B. was armed 
with a fifteen-foot splitcane spinning rod of 
(Continued an page 593.) 
