








































































FLORES GRAN Des ERieavir 





SEA AND RIVER PINGING 



Light Tackle Sea Fishing. — X. 
Tue one irksome feature of fishing from a 
launch is that it is difficult to land. the boat- 
men will not risk their boats in trying to land 
either on the beach or on the jutting rocks. As 
it is practically impossible to tow a suaitt and 
at the same t.me troll, fishing about Catalina 
Island means there are but three landings in 
the entire length; Avalon, Empire ana the 
Isthmus; and kLmpire is rarely used by fishing 
boats. To lunch in a bay or cove with the shore 
only a few feet away and no way of reaching 
it except by swimming, is exasperating to the 
man who would give a good deal to stretch 
his legs for just five minutes. 
For the most part the coast line is a suc- 
cession of precipitous cliffs and points which 
afford no foothold whatsoever except to the 
wild goats, which seem to scale the very sides 
of the rocks, tiny moving specks far up the 
mountain side. Every cove or bay has its name, 
some of them queer. Two just above the 
Isthmus are Cherry, and Fourth-of-July harbors. 
Why Fourth-of-July? . Then there is Italian 
Gardens. 
In Cherry Cafion there are a number of wild 
cherry trees which produce what are known as 
Catalina cherries, big, luscious looking fruit, 
most alluring to the eye, but disappointing to 
the palate, for they are all stone. Overlooking 
Cherry Harbor is a barren headland, and on it 
three graves marked by wooden boards; one, 
that of a miner who died many, many years 
ago; in another a fisherman, Jimmy Daly, 
sleeps; the third contains the body of a young 
girl. I climbed the bluff one Sunday morning 
to read the inscription—only her name and age. 
She had gone for a tramp with a man over the 
hills and ridges. He returned the following day 
and incoherently told how she had fallen down 
one of the canons. From his description 
Wilson, who knows every gully and crevice in 
that end of the island, was able to find the body. 
There were suspicions of foul play and much 
talk, but the inquest developed nothing. The 
man went free and the girl was buried in that 
lonely grave—the end of a summer’s holiday. 

Toward the close of autumn the yellowtail 
gradually disappear and by November they are 
scarce, possibly so considered because the fish- 
ing season is over and no one is out after them. 
Few go to Catalina to fish during November 
and December. There are plenty of albacore 
about, but the weather is apt to be unsettled 
and disagreeable and the island is lonesome after 
the gay crowds of the summer. 
In January the tourist season begins, and 
from that month until along in April crowds of 
sightseers go over, most of them for only the 
day. The fishing may be very fine, as it was 
during the winter and spring of 1905, or it may 
be freaky and off. At no season, however, 
should a lover of the sport visit the island with- 
out “‘trying his luck.” 
Before leaving the yellowtail a few more ob-, 
servations and suggestions are in order. 
In fishing with heavy tackle near kelp it is 
possible to snub the fish the moment he strikes 
and hold him free. With light tackle it is a 
very different proposition. The fish will make 
his rush and to keep him out of the kelp re- 
quires all a man’s skill and ingenuity. There is 
not much use clamping down on the spool in 
an endeavor to stop the rush. A nine-thread 
fine has its hmitations. The efforts of the 
angler must be directed toward turning rather 
than stopping the fish; toward getting him 
headed away from the kelp. This is best ac- 
complished by having the boatman, when a fish 
strikes, head the launch out and away. By do- 
ing this the angler is enabled to hang 
on with a steady pressure on the fish 
ey the attempt is 
made too soon to take in line, the fish is almost 
certain to reach the kelp. there seems to be 
something about the play of the rod and line in 
trying to recover which startles him. It is 
the long, steady pressure, to the very limit of 
the tackle, wh.ch turns even the biggest one 
and tows him out in deep water. 
It is a critical moment when the launch ‘is 
headed one way and the fish another, both 
moving, the angler with his slender line acting 
as the connecting link. 
“fs he still going?” 
“Have you stopped him?” 
“Is he coming our way?” 
These are the stereotyped questions one hears 
from the boatman. Meanwhile the man with the 
rod is leaning far over the stern, opposing 
the spring of his arms joined with that of the 
rod to the pull of the fish, wondering whether 
the latter will turn or the line part; then when 
the line ceases to run out and there is a slight 
yield at the far end, followed by a slow but 
steady tow, there is a sigh of relief; the yellow- 
tail is turned and the chances are three to one 
against his getting another start for the kelp. 
If the angler keeps perfectly steady and does 
not try to recover line the fish may be carried 
as iar out as desired. 
One other point of importance: in fishing with 
flyingfish it is customary to let the fish run 
fifteen or twenty feet before attempting to 
set the hook. 
and so, perhaps, turn him. If 
This rule works very well with 
heavy tackle. which will halt the fish dead, but 
with light this first run may mean into the 
kelp. 
On the whole, when fishing very near. kelp 
with light tackle, it is better to strike the fish 
at once, before he has a chance to turn and 
head back. Some strikes may be lost, but more 
fish will be saved in the long run. Large yellow- 
tail are very apt to strike the head of a flying 
fish anyway and there is no need to let them 
run. 
In discussing the game fish about Catalina it 
is very appropriate to reserve the tina for the 
last word. They are the largest, the swiftest, 
the strongest of all, and they are the last to 
make their appearance. They may show them- 
selves any time. The old boatmen frequently 
remark, ‘“They’re around all the time,” but they 
are not taken in any numbers until summer. 
In March, 1905, there were three great schools 
off Long Point. During the morning the sea 
was as smooth as glass and the great ripple 
made by each of the schools was plainly visible 
from Avalon Bay. Several launches put’ out 
among them and a fifteen-pounder was caught, 
but no more. They were not striking—just 
playing about the surface. For two hours we 
trolled about and among them with sardines, for 
there were no flyingfish. It was exasperating 
to see those big fish shooting through the water 
on all sides of the launch:and within such easy 
distance a blind man with grains could have 
hit one, but the bait did not tempt them. 
In the afternoon a breeze sprang up and the 
ripple made it impossible to locate the fish. It 
was a moral certainty they had not moved far 
away. Meanwhile Gray had routed out a pickled 
flyingfsh, one he had left over from the fag 
end of the season before. It was not attractive, 
but it was big. We trolled back and forth hunt- 
ing for those tuna until we were about to quit 
in despair, when, suddenly, biff! and the reel 
went spinning. 
“We're off,’ I shouted. 
“Careful now, it may be a big one.”’- and 
Gray looked anxiously at the line as it paid out. 
No one will ever know how carefully we 
handled that fish. We were bound to have him. 
“Acts funny for a tunny,” Gray remarked at 
the end of fifteen. minutes; 
goned near the strface.”’ 
Well, the upshot was a big blue shark—that 
was my first “tuna.” 
Notwithstanding they were present in such 
numbers in March, not a big one showed up 
the following summer, only some forty and fifty- 
pounders ot the yellow, or Japanese albacore 
variety, and not many of these. 
In August and September the tuna fishing was 
good; not the big ones, but plenty of the smaller; 
so many we often moved away from those about 
the launch in hopes of striking a school of 
larger ones. There were days when everybody 
caught tuna and days when no one had a 
strike. That is one of the delightful features of 
tuna fishing, the uncertainty. 
Before my first tuna was landed I had three 
strikes within half an hour and each time the 
line was parted near the leader as if cut with a 
knife. 
“Line must be rotten,” I muttered by way of 
justification, but each time it tested full eighteen 
pounds. 
“Tuna,’ was Gray's only comment, and he 
laughed, for he had warned me they were not 
like yellowtail. 
To relieve the monotony of trolling I was in 
the habit of sitting facing forward with the butt 
of the rod in my lap, tip pointing toward the 
rear, but at an angle, so that the spring of the 
rod would take the shock of the strike. While 
so seated hundreds of yellowtail and albacore 
had struck and been landed without any undig- 
nified haste in shifting position, but tuna were 
different. They struck so hard and the rush 
followed so quickly that unless a man was pre- 
pared not to check the spool but to give line, 
they would be off and away with hook and wire 
leader. The man who thinks he has met ‘fast 
fish has yet to meet a tuna. When fooling about 
the boat they move more slowly than albacore, 
as it becomes a more stately fish, but let them 
once feel the hook and their rush would yank 
an albacore on his back, and he is a fast fish, 
too. 
It is difficult to judge the speed of fish except 
by comparing their actions when hooked, and 
certainly when so compared the tuna is the 
fastest thing that swims and takes a bait. For 
instance, it is safe to let albacore or yellowtail 
take out line against the automatic tension in 
the reel. The tension is so slight there is scarce- 
ly any strain on the line. I tried it again and 
again with tuna, and nearly every time the line 
would part. Even that slight tension was too 
much during the rushes. The one safe course 
is not to rely upon even the leather drag, but 
thumb the spool lightly, just enough to prevent 
the reel from overrunning and with no thought 
of checking the fish. When he makes his turn 
then is the time to exert some pressure, but 
with great care, for another rush in a different 
direction is due, and the drag of the line in the 
water as he sweeps off to right or left, or direct- 
ly toward the launch. may be enough to part it. 
A good tarpon fisherman who had_ been 
among the tuna several days w-thout landing 
one, though he had plenty of strikes, adopted 
the suggestion to throw back his leather brake 
and use his thumb, protected only by thin kid. 
He landed the -next tuna that struck. He had 
been putting more pressure on the spool than 
he realized. 
Light tackle tuna fishing reqatees patience, 
endurance and delicacy of touch. I ought to 
know some of the requirements, for I lost eight 
in One morning, and each of the eight demon- 
strated several new essentials. I have no hesi- 
tation in saying that the man who loses eight 
tuna in one morning is doing some poor fish- 
ing and owes his boatman an apology. Of 
course if they are big fellows, 150 pounds, that 
would be some excuse, but even then he ought 
“stays too dog- 





