

Jury 27, 1907.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 











Light Tackle Sea Fishing.— IX. 
White fishing one afternoon in March near 
White Rock with a light casting rod and silk 
line for whitefish, a large yellowtail played 
about the boat, picking up the small pieces of 
albacore thrown over as chum. Now, it is 
bad practice to swap horses while fishing, If 
trying for one variety of fish only the fickle 
angler will permit himself to be diverted by 
another; but that yellowtail was at least forty 
inches in length, and so very familiar he moved 
about as if he owned the ocean, coming within 
two or three feet of the launch whenever Gray 
threw over a handful of chum. I stood it as 
long as any mortal could, then reaching back 
for a little heavier rod, with a reel of 9-strand 
line, said, “Gray, that fellow is very distract- 
ing.” 
~inats right: he is.’ 
“We'll just give him a piece of chum with a 
hook in Th 
The hook was only a No. 4, mounted on a 
fine dark gut leader. We buried it in a square 
inch of albacore and tossed'it over without a 
sinker. The wily fish sailed past within a foot 
of the bait, but never even sniffed it. We tried 
throwing chum all about it, then tossing the 
hook out with a double handful. That fish 
would deftly gather up every piece of chum 
‘but the one containing the hook. The fine 
gut leader was sufficient to differentiate the 
bait. For over an hour we persisted without 
success. 
“T’ve seen it tried many a time. The fish 
knows the difference,” Gray remarked wearily, 
as I kept on long after he said it was no use. 
“Well, we'll see if that fish can count,” I 
exclaimed. 
I attached two No. 4 hooks with their fine 
leaders to the line about three feet apart. 
“Now, throw them over with a lot of chum. 
If that fish can count” 
We watched with renewed interest. The 
yellowtail swept gracefully about among the 
pieces of albacore, gathering up one after an- 
other. When it came to the first hook it went 
by without a pause, but the second it took with 
no more hesitation than if it had been a piece 
of floatine bait. 
“We're off!” I shouted. Gray sprang to the 
bow to loose his anchor rope and cast it off 
attached to an empty demijohn ‘for a float. 
There was kelp all about us. We must get 
into deeper water. The fish headed for the 
line of kelp outside with a. rush. The line 
was dry. I managed to dash a little water on 
the spool. There were just abott two min- 
utes of fun and excitement when the line 
parted. “Line rotten, I guess,’ I muttered, 
but afterward owned up to a little too much 
pressure with the thumb. If one has goo feet 
of line on the reel, there is no sense in parting 
it in the first hundred yards. 
A week later in the same place we made the 
same experiment on either the same or an- 
other yellowtail, only this time we did not 
deceive the fish until there were three hooks 
on the line. We tried one for a few moments, 
then two for a half hour. Three caught the 
fish at once, 

If any curious scientist should read these 
notes he may accept the. foregoing experiences 
as literally true. As data toward the ascertain- 
ment of fish intelligence they are not without 
value. Ina way it is parallel with the follow- 
ing experiment of Mr. Jules Fabre on the lava 
of Chalicodoma: 
“This genus is inclosed in an earthen cell, 
through which at maturity the young insect 
eats its way. M. Fabre found that if he pasted 
a piece of paper round the cell the insect had 
no difficulty in eating through it; but if he in- 
SEA. AND RIVER FISIING 



closed the cell in a paper case so that there 
vas a space of only a few lines between the 
cell and the paper, in that case the paper 
formed an effectual prison. The instinct of the 
insect taught it to bite through one inclosure, 
but it had not wit ewough to do so a second 
time.”—Hobhouse, Mind in Evolution, Iie (ey) 
One. would think that whatever there was 
peculiar about the first piece of chum to de- 
ter the fish would act.equally with the secona, 
since both contained hooks attached to’ similar 
leaders; but for some. reason the fish avoided 
one—two the second trial—and took the next 
without the slightest hesitation. 
In April and May yellowtail are often taken 
still-fishing in about forty or fifty feet of 
water just by the reef of Ship Rock. It is 
rather indifferent sport. As the launch drifts 
slowly over the reef the hook is cast out a few 
yards and allowed to sink. If some of the 
numerous rock bass do not get the sardine be- 
fore it is down a yellowtail may take hold 
very tenderly. It is rather hard striking them 
at that depth with a very flexible rod. The 
heavy tackle fisherman has every ‘advantage. 
About June the fishing is fine about Eagle 
Bank and off Johnson’s. All these places are 
just above the Isthmus, some twelve miles 
from Avalgn. 
Eagle Bank is a long reef between Ship Rock 
and the island. At its highest point, the reef 
is within ten feet of the surface at low: tide, 
and the kelp is floating on top, marking the 
reef plainly. At high tide, or when the tide 
is running fast, the kelp is down, and it is 
difficult to locate the reef, situated as it is far 
from land. In cruising about, searching for 
the spot, the first sign may be a vicious yellow- 
tail strike. That is a sign the reef is near, 
but where—on which side? The first strike 
' ever had near the bank was lost right in the 
rocks. We headed the launch to the south, 
believing the rocks ‘lay to the north, and when 
the fish anchored in the kelp, we found our- 
selves directly over the jagged points of the 
reef. We had towed our fish in the very di- 
rection he desired to go. 
Curious illustrations of the habits of fish are 
the facts that we invariably found our yellow- 
tail on the south side of the reef and nearly 
toward the east end, while the white sea bass 
almost invariably lay about the other end. The 
bass, however, were plainly to. be seen in 
numbers, while the yellowtail were séldom 
visible. When not playing on the surface, the 
yellowtail are usually down deep, lurking 
among the rocks, or, preferably, in the’ kelp, 
ready to spring out upon their: prey. In this 
respect they are not unlike the muskellunge. 
Caught in clear water, he is no harder to 
handle on light tackle than an albacore: in 
fact, it is doubtful whether, pound for pound, 
he has the resisting and staying qualities of 
the latter; but hooked near rocks or kelp, he 
is a dangerous opponent. Like a shot he will 
make a dash for a bunch of kelp, taking out a 
hundred or even two hundred yards of line. 
The longest straightaway run I ever had 
one make was at Silver Cafion. The water 
there is quite shallow, comparatively speaking, 
with sandy bottom. On the far side are some 
rocks and a bed of kelp. We were on the 
opposite side when this yellowtail struck. Like 
a shot he darted across the bay straight for 
the kelp. All the friction I dared put on the 
reel failed to check him. We thought we had 
the father of fishes; even expressed ourselves 
to that effect. He took out over 600 feet of 
line before he was stopped. Thirty yards 
more and he would have been in the kelp. 
Then began a pretty fight. The water was so 
shallow—scarcely more than twenty of thirty 
feet about the launch—that he could not 



sound. He dashed all over the bay, one mo- 
ment ahead of the boat, the next far astern. 
In many respects it was the prettiest play I 
have ever known a yellowtail to make. When 
we got him in, he was only a 16-pounder. It 
was the shallow water that caused the runs. 
The small fish—those running from 16 to 24 
pounds—make sharper fights than the large. 
Their play is fast and furious. The larger 
move more slowly, sound quickly and stay 
down. 
The record number of yellowtail with heavy 
tackle is thirty-six in one short morning on 
one rod. That is taking them in pretty fast. 
As sport, it is scarcely removed from hand- 
lining. Gray and I once landed eight in less 
than two hours, but the conditions were: un- 
usual. The bait-fishermen had hauled their 
seine for sardines at Pebbly Beach about an 
hour before we happened along. Hauling for 
bait always attracts the yellowtail. They fol- 
low the seine, picking up the crippled sar- 
dines, and they linger about the spot tor 
some time. 
We scarcely reached a point opposite the 
beach, when we had the first strike; and after 
that it was one strike after another, as fast 
as we could get the fish in and off. Three 
were lost in the kelp, eight landed and re- 
leased, making eleven strikes in all. With 
heavy tackle a man might have landed twenty. 
For some reason these particular fish came 
in rather easily. They averaged about 
eighteen pounds, and made good, sharp runs; 
but as the water was not very deep, they 
could not sound quite so far. That saved 
time. If that morning’s sport were average 
fishing it would prove that even the light 
tackle used was altogether too heavy for the 
fish; but it is not often a man can get eight 
good-sized yellowtail in two hours with a 9- 
thread line. Quite as often the yellowtail will 
take eight hooks in the same time. 
In midsummer when the fish are almost as 
thick as sardines and small, averaging from 
12 to 16 pounds, they can be taken too easily 
on the standard light tackle. A seven ounce 
seven foot rod and the equivalent -of a 6- 
thread line would be amply strong. A No. 5 
silk bait-casting line, breaking tension 12 to 
13 pounds, would land them. A nine-ounce rod 
simply slaughters them. Unless there is kelp 
near, they have little chance to get away. 
It is during July and August when the small 
yellowtail are so thick about the Avalon end 
of the island that the fisherman hies himself 
off to the Isthmus to work Eagle Bank, John- 
son’s, Parson’s, Sunken Rock and the bleak 
west end, where the real Pacific stretches away 
toward the setting sun. Ten months of the 
year there is practically no place to stay at 
the Isthmus. There are a number of buildings 
where fishing parties could be made comfort- 
able, but they are mostly inhospitably closed. 
Although fishing is the sport which makes the 
island famous, the company owning the island 
does practically nothing for the convenience 
and comfort of visiting anglers. All that is 
done to advance and systematize the sport is 
done by.enthusiastic and disinterested ama- 
teurs, often in spite of the most discouraging 
treatment by the men who profit thereby. 
In the wilds of Wisconsin the men who con- 
duct resorts and camps do everything in their 
power for the convenience of their patrons. 
They build and maintain log cabins on many 
different lakes, and these cabins, together with 
boats, are at the disposal of their guests free 
of charge. The one charge for room, board 
and boat hire at the principal camps covers all 
excursions to and sojourns at the different 
cabins, with food, bedding, boats, and every- 
thing except guide furnished. With far less 

