5« 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[July ii, 1908. 
and as I saw in the distance a string of big 
tarpon coming down the pass, I presented the 
brute with fifty cents’ worth of tackle. 
The second case of monster tarpon is a 
record of my own, but, alas! it is far from be¬ 
ing conclusive. In the winter of 1901 or 1902 I 
was fishing with a friend on the Gulf just out¬ 
side of the jetties below Tampico. In my boat, 
besides the oarsman (a Mexican), there was a 
young Japanese engineer, who had joined me for 
the purpose of getting a snap-shot at a leaping 
tarpon with our gun-camera, an apparatus 
designed by me and manufactured from my 
sketches by Dr. Howe. Although the water 
was like glass, there was a heavy swell, which 
made the Japanese so ill that he lay down in the 
bow, begging piteously to be landed on the 
jetty, and allowed to crawl ashore over the 
rocks. 
My companion in the other boat—a tyro at tar¬ 
pon fishing—had drifted far out to sea, and I 
was uneasy about him, fearing that the strong 
current might prevent his getting back; conse¬ 
quently I was paying more attention to him than 
to my legitimate business, which was slack just 
then, as no fish of any kind were striking. 
While I was thus looking over the starboard 
quarter, an immense fish rose vertically from 
the water about twenty feet directly astern, and 
as I turned my head to see what was the cause 
of the disturbance, I got a hurried glimpse of 
the creature, which was then about three-quarters 
of its length clear of the water. I did not see 
it long enough to affirm that it was a tarpon; 
but it made a true tarpon jump. I estimated the 
length roughly at ten feet and the weight (judg¬ 
ing by my experience with large sharks) at five 
hundred pounds. My boatmen assured me that 
it was a savalo (tarpon) and was twelve feet 
long. The Japanese said he thought the length 
was nine feet; but as he was lying down he 
could not see very well. For some years I had 
an idea that the fish was a tuna, but from sub¬ 
sequent knowledge I have concluded that it was 
not, and that it could have been nothing else 
than a tarpon. 
The third case is one of recent occurrence, and 
was related to me by Mr. Dilg, a newspaper man 
of Chicago. In February, 1907, he, his charming 
young wife, and I were fishing companions for 
a week at Tamos, some eight miles up the 
Panuco from Tampico. I left them there, and 
they continued their sport for several days after 
my departure. It was then that Mr. Dilg had 
this wonderful experience, as he related it to 
me soon afterward in Chicago. 
One day, when his wife was not with him, he 
hooked a tarpon so large that it could not, or 
did not, jump out of the water. He struggled 
with it for nearly half an hour, never getting 
any closer to it than about seventy-five feet, 
until finally the hook pulled out. He says the 
fish was fifteen feet long. It stayed at the sur¬ 
face of the water and swam around his boat, so 
that it was in fairly plain view, although rather 
distant to enable fiim to determine at all ac¬ 
curately its approximate dimensions. Allowing 
for excitement and possible exaggeration with 
some sportsmen—because the lost fish are in¬ 
variably the biggest—it must be conceded that 
Mr. Dilg was fast to a record-breaking tarpon. 
He gave me a half promise that he would write 
up this experience for Forest and Stream, but, 
as far as I know, he has not yet done so. 
Possibly this letter will be the means of inducing 
him to record his adventure in print. 
I trust that your readers will tell what they 
know about the subject to the tarpon fishing 
fraternity. J. A. L. Waddell. 
The Bluefish and its Capture. 
Philadelphia, Pa., June 27. —Editor Forest 
and Stream: Bluefish customarily feed upon 
armies of bait fish in rough waters, such as deep 
bays, inlets and the open sea. Formerly one 
either trolled from a sailboat or summoned the 
schools to an anchored rowboat by casting dis¬ 
membered menhaden upon the waters. An ap¬ 
palling stench usually accompanies this. ’Long¬ 
shore traditions favor bait that has aged nicely, 
the precise degree of which aging is a matter 
of some taste and indicates the connoisseur in 
menhaden “chumming.” While admitting the 
artistic aspects of the affair one is prone to balk 
at a second venture. I knew of an angler ac¬ 
tually dying from excessive nausea when out 
for drum in this manner. 
There then remained for the rod angler only 
a trying, boisterous, rod-straining tussle from 
a bouncing vessel under sail, or an endeavor to 
heave-to at the first alarm and so proceed while 
the boat drifted, often near shoals. Few cap¬ 
tains cared to maneuver their sailboats in bad 
seas, preferring the straightaway run with four 
lusty cod lines trailing astern. 
With the power launch, one trolls out over 
the propeller, sitting upon a board across the 
cockpit and has complete facilities for calm or 
foul weather to have a tilt with the dancer upon 
a light bamboo rod. The launch can be stopped, 
slowed down, reversed with the greatest free¬ 
dom ; and on a six-ounce bait-casting rod, with 
300 feet of nine-strand line, a double multiplying 
reel, there will be found no better sport in the 
East, West or inland. 
A five-pound bluefish will require a half hour 
of extremely careful rod work to conquer. The 
twelve-pounder that I once lugged in laboriously 
on a handline would have supplied an historic 
struggle. Indeed, twenty-five pounds is known 
to have been attained by this species. 
The bluefish is far from retiring by nature. 
He conducts his saturnalia with shameless pub¬ 
licity in full sight of all passersby. These mas¬ 
sacres are invariably attended with great punct¬ 
uality by gulls and other fowl. They scream 
five times for each swallow of floating fish. This 
adds a hilarious atmosphere, probably encourag¬ 
ing the marine wolves to redoubled efforts. The 
blues are as often out of water as in it one be¬ 
lieves as the launch swings into the melee. The 
surface is perforated with bluefish twisting, turn¬ 
ing, snapping, springing about in an abandon of 
unrestrained slaying. The overloaded stomach 
is disgorged and the terrified fry levied upon 
again in a frenzy of madness. 
Care is taken by the now excited angler only 
to skirt the furious scene, circling it to “bunch 
un” the interested parties. No bait is necessary. 
The squids of lead, bone, cedar or pearl, shaped 
roughly like a six-inch bait fish, are tipped at 
the tail with a j/o hook and connected directly 
with the line. In scouting, seventy feet or more 
of line is trolled, but when the destruction is at 
its height, ten or twenty feet from the launch 
finds a waiting mouth that pounces on the shin¬ 
ing lure like a tiger’s. The teeth marks of a 
blue will gash a lead squid a quarter inch deep. 
It is essential because of the slight strength 
of the rod that the engine be reversed at once 
on hooking a fish. This overcomes the forward 
movement of the launch in a few moments, tend¬ 
ing to ease the strain on the rod. There is no 
thought of striking back to implant the barb 
in the jaw, for the very fury of the attack never 
fails to hook if the fish actually strikes at the 
tail of the supposed menhaden. The acute 
curve of the rod makes a partially retarded out¬ 
run of line imperative. 
This initial dash away will be at an angle of 
about 45 degrees downward from point of con¬ 
nection. When a depth of forty or fifty feet is 
attained, the direction of flight approaches the 
horizontal. After a period of sustained fight¬ 
ing the neighborhood of the surface is likely to 
be sought and the play varied by sudden in 
rushes upon the crests of the seas with mouth 
and gill covers stretched wide open and head 
shaking furiously. This stirring diversity of 
tactics endears the fish to all who know his Style. 
As it is necessary to lift the stubborn fish Some 
distance at times, the rod should be staunch for 
its weight. Reeling in, as practiced in inland 
angling, is out of the question and pumping the 
only course to be taken. A light gaff hook with 
a four foot handle is a desideratum. 
The range of these pelagic nomads is wide 
and their movements impossible to forecast. The 
shifting of the food supply and the influence of 
the seasons determine their itinerary. Bluefish 
are taken from Key West to Halifax. Whet) 
the surface temperature approaches 35 degrees 
they refuse to rise as a rule. In the autumn the 
main body moves southward, returning in the 
spring. Accordingly, June and September yield 
greatest catches in New York, New Jersey 
Delaware and Maryland waters. 
It is reported from Australia and Africa, but 
strangely absent upon the European Atlantic 
coast. I have seen bluefish in the Mediterranean, 
at Algiers, Alexandria, in Syrian ports, Piraeus, 
Malta and Naples. Everywhere its unusual 
merits as a food fish are recognized and appre¬ 
ciated. Few sea foods excel its delicious flavor. 
Old ’longshoremen are fond of recalling the 
remarkable fluctuations in abundance in differ¬ 
ent years in different localities. Enormous 
schools will frequent a bay for a decade, per 
haps only to desert the region for several years 
thereafter without any apparent change or rise 
of unfavorable conditions. Many observers note 
that with a great influx of bluefish the weakfish 
schools diminish, although mature squeteague 
fear nothing from the “butchers.” 
F. L. Harding. 
Trout for Lake Champlain. 
There have long been known to be lake trout 
in some numbers in Lake Champlain, but owing 
to wasteful, methods of netting in the past, and 
to other causes, these fish are few and do not 
increase. An attempt to stock the lake with lake 
trout is soon to be made by the State Forest, 
Fish and Game Commission, and 50,000 fry and 
fingerlings from the Saranac hatcheries are to 
be deposited this week in the deeper portions 
of Lake Champlain from Westford north to 
Plattsburg. This is especially that part of the 
lake adapted to these trout. At the upper and 
lower ends of the lake the water is too shoal for 
these trout. 
