FOREST AND STREAM 
79 
A Little Talk About “Salt Water Fishing” 
An Appreciation of Salt Water Fishing by one of America’s Greatest Forest Water Anglers 
By Theodore Gordon. 
I INVARIABLY read or skim through all edi¬ 
torials in many periodicals, and did not miss 
a recent one in Forest and Stream on “Salt 
Water Fishing.” I have never cared a great deal 
for deep sea fishing, but some of my pleasantest 
recollections are of sport along shore in sounds, 
estuaries and salt water rivers; also, around the 
“Keys” off the Florida coast. 
We were dependent principally upon sail and 
oars for getting about, although naphtha launches 
and steam were used occasionally, and we often 
enjoyed the best of sport at small expense. 
The best casting rods we had were made of 
whole bamboo, carefully selected by an expert 
from a large number of canes and cut down to 
suit individual tastes, usually about ten feet in 
length. The guides, tip and reel were lashed on 
securely and the best of fine Cuttyhunk lines, 200 
to 300 yards, were used. The reels were nickel 
plated, and only cost about $4.50 each, but gave 
good service and allowed reasonably long casts 
to be made. 
We preferred forged Virginia bent hooks for 
bottom fishing, and long shanked Carlisle for 
school or surface fishing. We often carried 
another rod, a long whole bamboo, with a strong 
braided line fastened to it direct, without a reel. 
This was for school fish which sometimes fed 
upon the surface at certain stages of the tides, 
for a short time only, when the greatest rapidity 
and quickness of action were necessary to make 
a bag before the fish went down. When the best 
of bamboo had been secured these rods possessed 
extraordinary strength, as may be evidenced by 
the following incident. 
I had started down Green Island sound in my 
small boat, with a view to fishing for “winter 
trout” (Southern spotted weak fish) but found 
that the tide was still too high, and the water dis¬ 
colored. I therefore came to anchor close in¬ 
shore, and began catching small fish with rod 
and reel, to pass the time. There was a sort of 
pocket in the marsh grass inshore and presently 
I saw a sharp strike that looked like a trout tak¬ 
ing a shrimp. I put away the casting rod and 
picked up the long bamboo, placing a large 
shrimp upon the hook. 
At the first cast something ripped the bait off 
the hook and I tried again. This time there was 
no mistake. The hook was driven home sharply, 
and a heavy fish rushed fiercely out into the tide. 
Fortunately I had anchored carelessly and the 
whole of the anchor rope ran out. I braced my¬ 
self with both feet, and gave the enemy the bene¬ 
fit of the whole spring of the cane. It seemed 
impossible that any rod would endure being 
doubled up in such a way, but it gave and re¬ 
bounded again and again, as the fish rushed back 
and forth, in and out. 
Presently I discovered that the beast was a 
shark and I was determined to kill it if possible. 
It was a long fight and I was played out myself 
when the shark gave in and was slid over the 
gunwale (with a lot of water) into the boat. 
I finished the brute with an oar as he seemed to 
wish to monopolize the standing room. This 
shark was five and one-half feet long—not what 
one would call large, yet big enough to demon¬ 
strate the strength of good bamboo. Remember, 
I had no reel, and the line was not twice the rod’s 
length. 
I remember this as a long day of hard work 
and poor luck until the evening, at dead low 
water. The wind had gone down and all was 
serene. The sun was just setting as a large 
school of trout rushed a herd of shrimp to the 
surface, and instantly the gulls were on deck, 
screaming and pouncing. No gulls may be in 
sight but they must have sentinels on the watch, 
as they gather to the feast with extraordinary 
rapidity. 
As the tide was almost dead (it had not begun 
to make) I had no difficulty in keeping within 
casting distance of the rising trout. It was quick, 
exciting work, and when the school went down I 
A Satisfactory Day’s Salt Water Angling. 
had thirty-five fish. My shrimp bait gave out 
and ten trout were taken with a phantom win¬ 
now, cast and fished very fast on top of the wa¬ 
ter. In November on Neap tides I have seen 
many different schools rise during one day. 
The common weakfish were called “summer 
trout.” The “whiting” seemed to be the same 
as the northern kingfish. I ordered one of the 
latter at Delmonico’s in New York to see if I 
could discover any difference. 
There was fair sheepshead and channel bass 
(red drum and red fish) fishing in the estuaries, 
and good sport could be had on the banks out at 
sea with large fish. But my sport was inside, 
where I could go and return without expense or 
loss of time. 
Everyone knows of the sport to be found on 
both coasts of Florida, yet it is hard to realize its 
infinite variety unless one has been there. Even 
if one goes to a resort celebrated for its fishing 
he may gain only a partial idea of the sport to be 
had elsewhere in Florida waters. Conditions 
vary greatly. 
When I first arrived at the “Keys” I was think¬ 
ing of orange groves and shooting, not of fish¬ 
ing, and was poorly provided with tackle. My 
rod proved to be defective and broke again and 
again in playing small fish. Very soon it was 
quite useless. Enormous quantities of the best 
food fish were taken by the professional net 
fishermen, but hand lines were favored by the 
local talent and no rods were in use. At last I 
secured a fine East India bamboo from a negro 
for fifty cents and bought lines and good hooks. 
I was busy and wished to take advantage of fish¬ 
ing near at hand. 
I learned that as soon as cool weather set in 
large numbers of “sea trout” came inside of a 
lot of trestle work running out to a dock, and I 
decided to make my first attack upon these. I 
went to a fish house and got a mullet. This fish 
is oily when large and has a very firm, white 
belly. I cut this white meat into minnow-shaped 
strips, and bought a large clothes or market bas¬ 
ket instead of a creel. Then, marching out upon 
the trestle work I began casting a line about 
twice the length of the rod, playing my extem¬ 
porized minnow out in short darts. 
My expectations were not great, so you may 
imagine my surprise when three or four silvery 
fish rose at every cast, and I found myself hook¬ 
ing, playing and landing them into my basket as 
fast as I knew how. Very soon I had to call twt, 
negroes to carry away the spoils and they did 
this two or three times before I realized I had 
quite enough. I followed the last basket to the 
fish house and really my pile astonished me. 
The manager kindly weighed the entire catch and 
we found that in two or three hours I had basket¬ 
ed ninety-nine and one-half pounds. 
During the two following years I had much fine 
sport at many places with all kinds of fish, but 
this first performance made a deep impression 
on my mind as my last fishing had been with 
artificial fly for brook trout in Pennsylvania. You 
can see that there was quite a change in every¬ 
thing pertaining to the sport. 
Fifty years ago the good people of New York 
City had all kinds of salt water fish at their very 
door—or at least, within a very short distance 
from home. 
Striped bass, weakfish, kingfish, sheepshead, 
Spanish mackerel, bluefish, tautog and many 
other sorts, were plentiful and often of large size. 
Even to this day the big metropolis is not badly 
off for sport if one has a little time and knows 
where to go. I must knock off, as too many ex¬ 
periences are coming to mind. 
