Light Tackle Sea Fishing. 
(Concluded from page 458.) 
Tuna are found the world over. In the Medi¬ 
terranean they are netted in vast quantities for 
food. It is reported that fish of a thousand 
pounds weight are not uncommon. Being migra¬ 
tory fish they are built for speed, all muscle and 
without an ounce of superfluous flesh. Take 
them all in all, I believe they are far and away 
the fastest and strongest fish that deign to strike 
a hook. Tarpon do not seem to^ be in the same 
category. 
They may appear about Catalina any month in 
the year. I have been among literally acres of 
them as early as the month of March, but they 
would not strike. The enormous school, a half 
mile across, played about the launch fearlessly, 
cutting the water a few inches beneath the sur¬ 
face, dropping a little lower in the immediate 
vicinity of the launch, but still easily visible be¬ 
neath the boat. It was a beautiful and at the 
same time an exasperating sight to see so many 
game fish within reach of the rod and not a 
strike. The fish seldom strike when traveling 
in schools, and they seldom break up to feed 
until summer, when the flyingfish are plentiful. 
Although hardly a year has passed without 
the tuna putting in an appearance some month, 
not until this summer have they broken up and 
begun feeding in their old manner. In July, 
while on the way to the isthmus to fish for yel- 
lowtail, we suddenly came upon an enormous 
school chasing the flyingfish. We were hugging 
the shore when I saw far off on the horizon 
three or four splashes, then almost before I 
could call Gray’s attention to the disturbances 
there was a splash within a hundred feet of 
the launch and a tuna came out of the water 
after a flyingfish. I had only my nine-ounce 
rod and nine-thread line, but having stopped one 
once with that outfit I had no hesitation in try¬ 
ing again. Throwing over our flyingfish we had 
a strike in less than a minute and the fish stayed 
on less than another minute; to be accurate, he 
remained on while he took out about three hun¬ 
dred feet of line, then parted it against the drag 
of that much line in the water. 
The school passed on down toward Long 
Point, half way to Avalon, when it went down, 
and that was the last seen of tuna for some 
four weeks. A launch party that had spent the 
night at the isthmus said that while they were 
fishing for yellowtail near Ship Rock about 7 
o’clock the tuna broke water with a rush after 
the flyingfish less than a quarter of a mile 
away. They put out at once and got one strike 
on heavy tackle, but lost the fish, and though 
they followed the school until long after we 
met it, they had no more strikes, which was 
singular, for the fish were feeding and we had 
our strike at once. Possibly they trolled with 
too short a line. 
From time to time tuna were reported far out 
in the channel and now and then a boatman 
would insist he had had a strike, but as none 
was landed these reports were received with 
several grains of salt. By the middle of August 
all hope of tuna had been practically abandoned 
for this season, for never before in the history 
of tuna fishing had the blue fins—as the old 
variety of large fish is called to distinguish it 
from the Japanese or yellowfin variety that is 
smaller—appeared so late. Heretofore the mid¬ 
dle of July has usually seen the last of the tuna. 
To the surprise of everybody a tuna weighing 
over 100 pounds was brought in on Aug. 17. 
When the launch flying the familiar tuna flag 
was seen coming in, the town went wild. Criers 
went up and down the one main street calling 
out “A tuna caught,” and in no time the entire 
population was at the beach, and in August the 
population of Avalon numbers many thousand 
people. The long pier was crowded with a mass 
of struggling humanity all anxious to get a 
glimpse of the fish that had been so long a 
stranger to the island. The secretary of the 
Tuna Club was on hand to weigh the fish, and 
the boatman and his lucky patron were the 
heroes of the hour. 
It turned out that this was no chance strike, 
for the tuna remained and continued to strike, 
one or more being caught each day until six 
were landed the following Monday. The fish 
were no longer seen playing near the surface in 
large schools, but the schools were more or less 
broken up and strikes might be had either near 
or far out from land in water where there was 
not a sight of a tuna or any other fish; in fact, 
conditions are far more favorable when the 
fish are not seen than when they are traveling 
in schools and playing about the launch, always 
excepting, of course, when they are breaking 
water after the flyingfish. When voraciously 
feeding in that way strikes are almost a certainty. 
The fish were scattered all along the inside 
coast of the island from Avalon to the isthmus, 
sixteen miles, but many of the schools were not 
feeding. From Seal Rocks, off about four or 
five miles, an enormous school had evidently 
broken up to feed. During the morning the 
fish would be off shore and to get strikes it was 
necessary to troll perhaps for hours without see¬ 
ing a sign of a fish, and the strikes would come 
like bolts out of a clear sky when least expected. 
In the afternoon the fish would come in closer 
after the flyingfish and at moments the water 
would foam for an eighth of a mile with the 
great fish breaking the surface in their efforts 
to reach their frightened prey. It is at these 
times the tuna leap. They are not leaping fish 
in the sense the tarpon are; but when in rapid 
pursuit of a flyingfish, the tuna is carried out 
of water by his momentum as he follows the 
flyingfish to the surface. The flyingfish takes 
naturally to the air and for the moment the 
tuna may be in the air with him. I had the 
pleasure of seeing a tuna seize his prey within 
a few feet of our launch. He caught the flying¬ 
fish so near the surface that he came clear out 
with the fish in his mouth—wonderful sight. 
It is not at all uncommon to see the tuna follow 
beneath the surface the flyingfish while the lat¬ 
ter are in the air and capture them- when they 
light as a trout would a fly. While feeding 
voraciously the fish have no fear of a launch 
and may take the bait within ten feet of the 
boat. Ordinarily it is well to troll with not less 
than 125 feet of line. The fish strikes with 
such force as a rule he hooks himself instantly. 
There are, however, exceptions, and not seldom 
the fish takes hold as gingerly as a yellowtail 
when still-fishing. Sometimes the fish will fairly 
nibble the bait, taking and dropping it several 
times in most.coy fashion. Again when the fish 
are near the surface it may be necessary to cast 
the bait among them very much as a flyingfish 
would light before they will strike. 
The Tuna Club rules permit a twenty-four- 
strand line and a rod the tip of which must 
weigh not to exceed sixteen ounces; the butt 
may be as long and as heavy as a man can 
handle. This is murderous tackle for any fish 
short of thousand-pound sharks. When adopted 
over twenty years ago it was light in compari¬ 
son with the hand lines in use, and be it said to 
the credit of the Tuna Club its tackle is still 
“light” in comparison with that used for tarpon 
by men who call themselves fishermen. But the 
world has moved in twenty years and the regu¬ 
lation tuna tackle is far out of date. The only 
excuse urged for it by men who use it and who 
know better is that “the fish are so scarce one 
cannot afford to take chances of losing one.” 1 
have heard this plea urged again and again. The 
very plea is a confession that the tackle is too 
heavy, that it does not give the fish much of a 
chance. To be sure many fish get away from 
good fishermen, but the fact that women and 
boys get them on the heavy tackle proves its 
clumsy and deadly efficiency. 
In the first place, the rod is out of proportion 
to the line. A twenty-four-strand line should be 
handled on a rod not to exceed twelve ounces 
in weight, butt included. Such a rod would be 
amply strong for the line. The enormous rods 
used are clumsy enough and strong enough for 
a forty-eight-strand line. 
For fish running from 100 to 150 pounds, or 
much more, in my opinion a twenty-four-strand 
line is too heavy. Why should a man need a line 
that will lift forty-eight pounds? The fact that 
the line is often parted proves nothing as will 
be shown. 
Two years ago I hooked a bluefin tuna with a 
nine-thread line and a nine-ounce split bamboo 
rod and fought the fish for three hours and 
twenty minutes. During the last thirty minutes 
the exhausted fish was within thirty feet of 
the launch swimming round and round on the 
surface in plain view. We looked upon him as 
ours and were taking every precaution when he 
passed under the boat for the second time, arid 
that time so close to the keel that the line 
touched and parted. The fish was so tired he 
flopped a moment on the surface almost within 
gaffing distance and slowly swam away. 
This experience satisfied me a tuna could be 
landed on lighter than the regulation tackle, so 
when they turned up this season I tried them 
with a seven-foot split bamboo rod that weighed 
