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ADVENTURES IN 
COMRADESHIP 
(Continued from page 665) 
swordfish to a finish ten miles from 
Nantucket South Shoals lightship. And 
perhaps, casually speaking, when Kel¬ 
ley put his iron into the fish it awak¬ 
ened the fish so thoroughly, that it 
charged, and shoved its sword through 
the dory’s bottom, grazing Kelley’s 
foot. Then the sword snapped in twain. 
Whereupon Captain Claude Wagner 
planted the Liberty close alongside, and 
Kelley’s mates hoisted the dory on 
board. There were 72 swordfish as a 
haul, at the end of the cruise, with 
eight consecutive days of fog and mist 
—such is the fisherman’s luck! Who 
said romance had disappeared from 
Nantucket? 
We were up at six that brilliant, 
crisp morning, before the mist had 
drifted off to sea, and following a hasty 
breakfast, walked down to Steamboat 
Wharf. Sonnyboy trotted contentedly 
at my side, as if there had been no such 
thing in life or the Island, as slang, 
jazz, impertinent little girls and beach¬ 
petting parties. I could not but feel 
that Mother’s apprehensions were just 
a trifle exaggerated. 
There was new atmosphere for both 
of us out there in the grey and ram¬ 
bling confusion of many rocks and not 
a few ancient traditions—from Steam¬ 
boat, on down through Old North 
Wharf, Straight Wharf, Old South and 
Commercial, we might well have been 
looking upon the Nantucket of one hun¬ 
dred years ago. Two giant sailing 
vessels had suddenly materialized, over 
night, and were snugly at anchor, 
pungent with the perfume of ocean ro¬ 
mance. Clusters of smaller crafts 
huddled at their docks, the water chat¬ 
tering around them. And a fleet of 
fishing boats, manned by sturdy, bronz¬ 
ed men of the old regime, reeked with 
their catches of enormous flounders, 
mackerel and plaice. Nets—intricately 
large spider-webs of this commercial 
enterprise, had been outflung on the 
docks, and chaps with chins that looked 
as if they had been carved from teak- 
wood, silently mended them, haloed by 
plumes of pipe smoke. 
Is This Worth the Price? 
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Teach him what whoa! means. No iong 
trailing rope or spike collar. Our field 
dog control is not cruel. Can be carried 
in pocket and attached instantly to dog’s 
collar. Dog can’t bolt. Fast dogs can be 
worked in close and young ones field 
broken in a week. Works automatically— 
principal South American Bolas. Sent 
postpaid with full directions for $2. Testi¬ 
monials and booklet, Making a Meat Dog 
sent on request. 
MAPLE ROAD KENNELS 
We were strangers to Pond fishing, 
and we sought advice. Query, directed 
at a vigorously - muscled net-doctor, 
brought more than was expected. It 
was like stirring up a quiet pool, for 
there came to the surface rich rem¬ 
nants of seadrift. 
Fishin’ in Sacacha, and the like? If 
we’d be content with nice, well-behaved 
perch—some uv ’em yaller—we might 
do well enough. Just go out in a row¬ 
boat with a hand-line. Nothin’ better 
fer bait, when all was said and done, 
than some plain raw meat. Beef. 
But how much more important was 
news from the wider horizons. Hadn’t 
The Petrel folks found a lone bluefish 
in a trap, in the chord of the bay! 
Weighed almost five pounds. 
“Ye just can’t catch ’em hereabouts 
no more! All gone! Something pecu^ 
liar has happened t’ th’ fishin’. But ye 
got t’ take yer sou’wester off t’ Cap¬ 
tain Olaf Anderson. Th’ sloop Dagny 
stayed out a week, it did, on Georges 
Bank, an’ took 38,500 pounds uv flukes. 
Then, headin’ fer port, they rim inta 
swordfish an’ got sixteen.” 
A few more patches in the net, ex¬ 
ecuted by alert, accurate, if cracked 
fingers, and— 
“Beats Hell how fishin’ men hav’ been 
softened up, in this here generation. 
Guess whut — th’ fishin’ steamer Hel¬ 
ena of Gloucester has one uv their 
there radio stunts on board. Captain’s 
son—him as has studied e-lectricity— 
installed it. At night, when they’re 
out on th’ grounds, they has concerts 
an’ sich-like. Womanish, I’d call it!” 
An inspector from the state board of 
health—funny how they squirm in 
everywheres, when you least expect ’em 
—has been on the Island, investigating 
the Quahaug Beds in the harbor and 
out in the sound! Even went so fai 
as to take specimens from th’ diggers— 
and bottles of water. 
Th’ Fish Commission, up at Wood; 
Hole has a queer one. Walt Glidden 
fish store man, bought the derndesi 
lobster you ever saw from a local fishin 
boat. Caught it in the ottertrawl. 
BLUE lobster—bright blue all over 
mind you! From th’ tip of its claw: 
to the end of its tail! And Wal’ 
thought the Commission should get i 
squint at it. 
It was all I could do to tear Sonny 
boy away from this breezy group. Thi 
tang of the sea was in his nostrils am. 
the proximity of those towering mast: 
of the sailing vessels—the whole color 
ful panorama of Adventure—had cap 
tivated him. The wire baskets, glisten 
ing with fluke, cod, haddock, flounder 
were headliners, and it might be wel 
to state, at this point, that on the fol 
lowing day we went out to see wha 
WE could do in the deep-sea fishing 
line. It was an unforgetable experi 
ence. Even the memory of it cause: 
me to shiver a little. 
Fresh beef was purchased at a near 
by market, and having been assure* 
that Cap’n Henry—on the fishin) 
grounds—could supply us with al 
necessary hooks and lines, we boarde* 
a grizzled shavetail flivver, driven b: 
an old gentleman who matched it per 
fectly, and set forth on this perchmi 
expedition of ours. . 
In writing to Advertisers mention Forest and Stream. It will identify you. 
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