FOREST AND STREAM LETTERS 
A RECORD JEW-FISH 
(Promicrops Itaira) 
Dear Forest and Stream: 
f AM submitting for your records the 
* picture and dimensions of a jew- 
fish which, according to the Bureau of 
Fisheries, exceeds in weight their pre¬ 
vious record by one hundred and ninety - 
three pounds. 
I have been fishing in the 
Florida waters bi-annually 
for many years and have 
seen many large jew-fish. 
but the one in question as¬ 
tonished me in its propor¬ 
tions as it did many others. 
We had been fishing down 
the coast below Miami for 
several days, with the most 
wonderful luck that I have 
ever had. We harbored on 
the night of January 22, 
1923, in Caesar’s Creek, 
which is just below Co-co- 
lo-bo Cay Club. As usual, 
we set a shark line baited 
with the larger portion of a 
very large cero mackerel 
which a shark had seen fit 
to mutilate while it was on 
my line earlier in the day. 
We had the line neatly 
coiled in the stern of the 
boat, with the free end 
hitched aft. This hitching 
of the free end aft is advis¬ 
able, for should a large 
shark or other large fish 
dash off suddenly with the 
line it would either tear the 
hook out of its mouth or 
maybe play hob with the 
stern of the boat; then, too, 
the chance of laying down 
on the line is better when the length of 
the boat is between the coils and the 
aft end. 
My companion, Dr. Simpson, with 
the guide and helper had gone below, 
but as the moon was shining so bright¬ 
ly and the night so beautiful, that after 
donning my pajamas I decided to re¬ 
main on deck. I feel safe in saying 
that the brightness of the moon that 
night rivaled the brightness of the sun 
that day, as one could easily have read 
a paper by moonlight. The water was 
Jew-fish are not rated as game,but be¬ 
lieve me that old bird had business else¬ 
where, and he was not losing any time. 
He had out several hundred feet of 
line before we could get together. How 
long we were bringing him in I will 
never know. My only recollection is of 
spending most of my time while we 
were fighting him was on the wet 
floor with someone else’s 
knee or foot in my face or 
ribs. 
The moon in the mean¬ 
time had decided not to wit¬ 
ness the fracas and had dis¬ 
creetly hidden behind a 
cloud, making the work all 
the harder. When we even¬ 
tually hauled the old rascal 
to the side of the boat his 
opened mouth looked as 
large as a flour barrel. 
Tommy succeeded in get¬ 
ting a hawser through the 
jew’s gill, and for the rest 
of the night he tried to tow 
us to Long Key. 
The next day we 'took 
him up to Co-co-lo-bo Cay 
and started to tie him to 
one of the pilings of the 
landing, but he reared back 
and snapped the piling as 
if it were a match stem. 
Tommy then decided to pass 
another hawser through the 
other gill and tied him to 
and between both landings, 
where he stayed until our 
return, two days later, the 
steward of the club telling 
us that at frequent inter¬ 
vals he would start func¬ 
tioning and tried to tear up 
both piers. We used the 
club block and tackle to haul him on 
our boat. It was only then that we 
had the opportunity to measure him, 
which we did with a steel tape measure. 
He was ninety-six inches long, with a 
girth of seventy-two inches. A mon¬ 
ster, and as stated above, nearly two 
hundred pounds larger than any that 
the Fish Commission has record of. 
We had no means of weighing him 
even after we arrived at Miami and 
based our deductions on the time- 
honored method of calculation, which 
Page 632 
but a few feet deep and fish were jump¬ 
ing all around the boat. Some of the 
splashes sounded in the quietness of 
the night as if someone were throwing 
saw logs overboard. 
I was tilted in my chair against the 
cabin door and was beginning to feel 
that coziness, the forerunner of sleep, 
when I noticed the shark line gently 
iTCH OF FISH FROM SOUTHERN WATERS, SHOWING RECORD 
JEW-FISH 
slipping over the stern of the boat. I 
thought at first that the cruiser was 
swinging around, but I did not ha\e 
long to think, for all of a sudden the 
coils spiraled upwards, one loop catch¬ 
ing in the leg of my chair, bringing me 
to the deck like a ton of bricks. I 
fell shouting, and up the companion- 
way dashed Tommy Gifford, our guide, 
closely followed by Bundy and Dr. 
Simpson. They were too full of sleep to 
grasp immediately the situation or the 
line, which was now running fast. 
