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i l : : 1 , i ZANE GREYS BIG TUNA I i Graphic Description of a Great Eish-ing Battle Off Avalon Island. i Many Hisaiiiioiiitnicnts luit Success After a Three-Hour ami Fifty- 1 aiiaute Struggle. 1 It took me live seasons at Catalina to catch a , big tuna. And the event was so thrilling that I . had to write to iny fisherman friends about it. The , results of my effusions seem rather dubious. Robert j II. Davis, editor of Munseys, replies in this wise: "If you went out with a mosquito iiet to catch a mess of minnows your story would read like Roman .gladiators seining the Tigris for whales." Now I am at a loss to know how to take that compliment. Davis goes on to say more, and he , also quotes me: "You say the hard diving liglit j of a tuna liberates the brute instinct in a man. Well. Zane, it also liberates the qualities of a liar." Davis does not love the sweet, soft scent that breathes from off the sea. Once on the Jersey coast I went tuna fishing with him. He was not happy 011 the boat. But once he came up out of the , cabin with a jaunty feather in his hat. I admired , it. I said: "Bob, Ill have to get something like that for my hat." "Zane," ho replied, piercingly, "what you need for your hat is a head!" My friend, Joe Bray, who publishes books in Chicago? also reacts peculiarly to my fish stories. He writes me a satiric doubting letter then shuts up his olllce and rushes for some river or lake. Will Dilg, the famous fly-caster, upon receipt of my communication, wrote me a nine-page prose-poem epic about the only fish in the world black bass. Prof. Kellogg always falls ill and takes a vacation, during which he writes mo that I have not mental capacity to appreciate, my luck. These fellows will illustrate how my friends receive angling news from me. I ought to have sense enough to keep my stories for publication. I strongly suspect that their strange reaction to my friendly feeling is because I have caught more and larger black bass than they ever saw. Some day I will go back to the swift streams arid deep lakes, where the bronze backs live, and fish with my friends, and then they will realize that I never lie about the sport and beauty and wonder of the great outdoors. AUTHOR AN AVELON VETERAN. Every season for the five years that I have been visiting Avalon there has been a run of tuna. But the average weight was from sixty to ninety-live pounds. Until ihis season only a few big tuna had been taken. The prestige of the Tuna Club, the gragging of the old members, the gossip of the boatmen all tend to make a fisherman feel small until he lias lauded a big one. Come to think of it, considering the years of the Tuna Club fame, not so many anglers have captured a blue button tuna. I vowed I did not .care in particular about it, but whenever we ran across a school of tuna I acted like a boy. A good many tuna fell to my rod during these seasons During the present season, to be exact, I caught twenty two. This is no large number for two mouths fishing. Boscher caught about one hundred, Jump eighth-four. Hooper sixty. Among tiiese tuna I fought were three that stand out strikingly. One seventy-three pounder took fifty minutes of hard fighting to subdue. A ninety-one pounder took one hour and fifty, and the third, after two hours and fifty minutes, got away. It seems, and was proved later, that the number fifty figured every time I hooked one of the long, slim, hard-fighting male tuna. Beginning late in June, for six weeks tuna were caught almost every day, some days a large number being taken. But big ones were scarce. Then one of the Tuna Club anglers began to bring in tuna that weighed well over one hundred pounds. This fact inspired all the anglers. He would slip out early jn the morning and return late at night." Nobody knew where his boatman was finding these fish. More than one boatman tried to follow him, but in vain. Quito by accident it was discovered that he ran up on the north side of the island, clear round the West End. When he was discovered on the west side he at once steered toward Clemente Island, evidently hoping to mislead his followers. This might have succeeded, hut for the fact that both Bandini and Adams hooked big tuna before they had gone a mile. Then the jig was up. That night Adams came in with a one hundred and twenty and a one hundred and thirty-six pound tuna, and Bnudini brought the record for the season one hundred and forty-nine pounds. Next day we were all out there on the west side, a few miles off shore. The ocean appeared to be full of bhickfish. They are huge black marine creatures, similar to a porpoise in movement, but many times larger, and they have round, blunt noses that looked like battering rams. Some seemed as big as gun-boats, and when they heaved up on the swells we could see the white stripes belflw the black. I was inclined to the belief that this species was the Orca. a whale-killing fish. Boatmen and deep sea men report these fish to be gerous, and had better be left alone. They certainly looked "ugly. We believed they were chasing tuna. WHALE A-PLENTY IN THE CHANNEL. The channel that day contained more whales than I evere saw before at one time. We counted six pairs in sight. I saw as many as four of the funnel-like whale spouts of water on the horizon at once. It was very interesting to watch these monsters of the deep. Once when wo were all on top of the boat we ran almost right upon two whales. -The lirst spouted about fifty feet awaj The sea seemed to open up a terrible roar issued forth then came a cloud of spray and rush of water. Then we saw another whale just rising a few yards ahead. My hair stood up stiff. Captain Dan yelled, leaped down to reverse the engine. The whale saw us and swerved. Dans action and the quickness of the whale prevented a collision. As it was I looked down in the clear water and saw the huge gleaming gray body of the whale as lie .passed. That was another sight to record in- the book of memory. The great flukes of his tail moved with surprising swiftness and the water bulged on the surface. Then we ran close to the neighborhood of a school of whales, evidently feeding. They would come up and blow, and then sound. To see a whale sound and then raise his great broad shining flukes in the air, high above the water, is, in my opinion, the most beautiful spectacle to be encountered upon the ocean. Up to this day, during five seasons I had seen three whales sound with tails in the air. And upon this occasion I had the exceeds Ing good fortune to see seven. I tried to photograph one. We followed a big bull. When he came up to blow we saw a yellow moving space on the water then a round gray, glistening surface, then a rugged snout. Puff! His blow was a roar. He rolled 011, downward a little, the water surged white and green. When he came up to sound he humped his huge back. It was shiny, leathery, wonderfully supple. It bent "higher and higher in an arch. Then.this great .curve seemed to slide swiftly out of sight and his wonderful tail, flat as a floor and wide as a house, emerged to swing . aloft. The water ran off it in sheets. Then it waved higher and with slow, graceful, ponderous i motion, sank into the sea. That sight, more than , anything, impressed me with the immensity of the . ocean, with its mystery of life, with the unattain-. able secrets of the deep. FENCING WITH THE ELUSIVE TUNA. The tuna appeared to be scattered, and none were - on the surface. I had one strike that plowed up J the sea. showing the difference between the strike of a big tuna and that of a little one. He broke my line on the lirst rush. Then I hooked another 1 and managed to stop him. I had a gruelling battle with him, and at the end of two- hours and fifty minutes he broke my hook. This was a disappoint-. ment far beyond reason, but I could not help it. Next day was windy. The one following we could i not find the fish, and the third day we all con-, eluded they had gone for 1918. I think the fame of tuna, the uncertainty of tiieir appearance, the difficulty of capturing a big one, are what excite 1 the ambition of anglers. Long effort to that end 1. and consequent thinking and planning and feeling : . bring about a condition of mind that will be made , clear as this story progresses. ; But Captain Dauielson did not give up. The fifth day we ran off the west side with several other boats, and roamed the mm in search of fins. No 1 anchovies 011 the surface, no sheerwater ducks, no 1 sharks nothing to indicate tuna. About one , oclock Captain Dan steered southwest and wo ran i sixteen miles toward Clemente Island. It was a perfect day, warm, hazy with light fog, smooth heaving opalescent sea. There was no 1 wind. At two-thirty not one of the other boats 1 - was in sight. At two-forty Captain Dan sighted a large dark rippling patch on the water. We ran ; r over closer. "School of tuna!" exclaimed the Captain, with j I i i 1 1 , . , j , j , , 1 : 1 1 i 1 1 ; j excitement, "big fish! Oh, for some wind now to fly the kite!" "Theres another school," said my brother, R. C, and lie pointed to a second darkly gleaming spot on tho smooth sea. "Ive spotted one, too," I shouted. "The oceans alive with tuna big tuna!" boomed Captain Dan. "Here wo are alone blue button Hsli everywhere and no. wind." "Well watch the fish and wait for wind," I said. SCHOOL OF IMMENSE FISH APPEAR. This situation may not present anything remarkable to most fishermen. But we who knew tho game realized at once that this was an experience of a life-time. We counted ten schools of tuna near at hand; and there were so many farther on that they seemed to cover the sea. "Boys," said Captain Dan. "heres the tuna we heard were at Auacapa Island last week. The Japs netted hundreds of -tons. Theyre working southeast, right in the middle of the channel, and havent been in shore at all. Its ninety miles to Anacapa. Some traveling! . . . That school close to us is the biggest school I ever saw and believe theyre the biggest fish." "Run closer to them," I said to him. We ran over within fifty feet of the edge of the school, stopped the boat, and all climbed up on top of the deck. Then we beheld a spectacle calculated to thrill the most phlegmatic, fisherman.- It simply enraptured me. and I think I am still too close to it to describe it well. The dark blue water, heaving in great low lazy swells, showed a roughened spot of perhaps two acres in extent. The sun. shining over our shoulders, caught silvery-green gleams of fish. Hashing wide and changing to blue. Long round bronze backs deep under the surface, caught the sunlight. Blue fins and tails, sharp and curved, like sabers, clear the water. Here a huge tuna would turn on his side, gleaming broad . and bright, and there another would roll on tho surface, breaking water like a tarpon with a slow heavy souse. "Look at the leaders," said Captain Dan. "Ill bet theyre three hundred pound fish." I saw then that the school, lazy as they seemed, were slowly following the loaders, rolling and riding the swells. These leaders threw up surges and ridges on the surface. They plowed the water. "Whatd happen if we skipped a llying-fish across the water in front of those leaders?" I asked Captain Dan. He threw up his hands. "Youd see a German torpedo explode." "Say! tuna are no relation to Huns!" put in my brother. WAYS OF THE TUNA FISHERMAN. It took only a few moments for the school to drift by .us. Then we ran over to another school, with the same experience. In this way we visited several of these near-by schools, all of which were composed of large tuna. Captain Dan, however, said he believed the first two schools, evidently leaders of this vast sea of tuna, contained tho largest fish. For half an hour we fooled around watching the schools and praying for wind to lly the kite. Captain Dan finally trolled our baits through one school, which sank without rewarding us with a strike. At this juncture I saw a tiny speck of a boat way out 011 the horizon. Captain Dan said it was Shortys boat with Adams. I suggested that, as we had to wait for wind to fly the kite, we run iii and attract Shortys attention. I certainly wanted some one else to see those magnificent schools of tuna. Forthwith we ran several miles until we attracted the attention of the boatman Captain Dan had taken to be Shorty. But it turned out to be somebody else, and my good intentions also turned out to my misfortune. Then we ran back toward the schools of tuna. On the way my brother hooked a Marlin swordfish that leaped thirty-five times and got away. After all those leaps he deserved to shake the hook. We found the tuna milling and lolling around, slowly drifting and heading toward the southeast. We also found a very liglit breeze had begun to come out of the west. Captain Dan wanted to try to get the kite no, but I objected on the score that if we could lly at all it would only be to drag a bait behind the boat. That would necessitate running through the schools of tuna, and as I believed this would put them down I wanted to wait for enough wind to drag a bait. at right angles with the boat. This is the proner procedure, because it enables an angler to place"his"bait over a school of tuna at a hundred yards or more irom the boat. It certainly is the most beautiful and thrilling way to get a strike. SCHOOLS OF.JMMENSE FISH APPEAR. So we waited. The boatman wdiose attention we had attracted had now come up and was approaching the schools of tuna some distance below us. He put out a kite that just barely Hew off the water and it followed directly in the wake of his boat. We watched this with disgust, but considerable interest, and we were amazed to see one of the anglers in that boat get a strike and hook a That put us all in a blaze of excitement. Still we thought the strike they got might just have been luckv. In running down farther, so we could come back against the light breeze we ran pretty close to the school out of which the strike had been gotten. Cuutain Dan stood up to take a good look. "Theyre "hundred pounders all right," he said. "But -theyre not as big as the tuna in those two leading schools. Im glad those ginks in that boat are tied up with a tuua for a spell." I took a look at the fisherman who was fighting the tuna. Certainly I did not begrudge him one, hat somehow, so strange are the feelings of a fisherman, I was mightily pleased to see that he was a novice at the game, was having his troubles and would no doubt be a long, long time landing his tuna. My blood ran cold at tho thought of other anglers appearing on the scene, and anxiously I scanned the horizon. No boat in sight? If I had only known then what sad experience taught me that afternoon I would have-been tickled, to pieces to ee all the great fishermen of Avalon tackle this school of big tuna. Captain Dan got a kite up a little better than I hoped for. It was not good, but it was worth trying. Mv bait, even on a turn of the boat, skipped along just as the edge of the wake of the boat. And tlie wake of a boat will almost always put a school of tuna down. KITE HAULING, MANY FISH, NO STRIKES. We headed for the second school. My thrilling cxpectanev was tinged and spoiled with doubt. I skipped niv bait in imitation of a flying-fish leaping and splashing along. AVe reached the outer edge of the school. Slowly the boils smoothed out. Slowly the big fins sank. So did my heart. We passed the school. They all sank. And then when Captain Dan swore and I gave up there came a great splash back of my bait. I yelled and my comrades eclioed me. - The tuna missed. I skipped the bait. A sousing splash and another tuna had my bait. My line sagged. I jerked hard; But too late! The tuna threw the hook before it got hold. "Thevre hungry!" exclaimed Dan. "Hurry reel the kite in. Well get another bait 011 quick.-Look! tli.it school is coming up again. Theyre not shy of boats. Boys, theres something doing." Captain Dans excitement augumented my own. I sensed an unusual experience that had never before befallen me. The school of largest fish was farther to the west. The breeze lulled. AVe could not fly the kite except with the motion and direction of the boat. It was exasiierating. When we got close the kite flopped down into the water. Captain Dan used language. AVe ran back, picked up the kite. It was soaked, of course, and would not fly. AVhile Dan got out a new kite, a large silk one which we had not tried yet, Ave ran down to the eastward on the second school. To our surprise nnd delight this untried kite flew well without almost any wind. AVe got in position and headed for the school. I was using a big hook half embedded near the tail of the flying-fish and the leader ran" through the bait.. It worked beautifully.. A little jerk of mv rod sent the bait skittering over the water for all the world like a live f lying-fish. I knew now that I would get another strike. Just as we reached a point almost opposite tho school of tuna they headed across our 1kw, so that it seemed inevitable we must either run them down or run too close. My spirits sank to zero. Something pres-. aged my luck. I sensed disaster. I fought the feeling, but it persisted. Captain Dan swore. My brother shouted warning from over us where lie sat on top. But we ran right into the leaders. The school sank. I was sick and furious. "Jump your bait! Its not too late," called Dan. HOW VORACIOUS MONSTERS THROW BAIT. I did so. Smash! The water seemed to curl white and smoke. A tuna had my bait. I jerked. I felt him. lie threw the hook. Half the bait remained upon it. Smash! a great boil and splash! Another tuna had that. 1 tried to jerk. But both kite and tuna pulling made my effort feeble. This one also threw out -the hook. It came out with a small piece of mangled red flying-fish still hanging to it. Instinctively I jumped that remains of my iait over the surface. Smash! The third tuna cleaned the hook. Captain Dan waxed eloquent and profane. My brother said: "What do you know about that?" As for myself, 1 was stunned one second and 1 dazzled the next. Three strikes ou one bait, t It seemed idisaster still clogged my mind, but was liad already "happened was new and s wonderful. Half a mile below as I saw 1 I the angler still fighting the tuna lie had hooked, t 1 wanted him to get it, but I hoped he would be 1 all afternoon on the, job. i Hurry. Cap!" was all I said. 1 Ordinarily Pan is the swiftest of boatmen. Today he was slower than molasses and all he did went t wrong. What he said about the luck was more than melancholy. 1 had no way to gauge my own feeling 1 because I had never had such an oxperienlce before. : Nor had I ever heard or read of any oiks having it. We got a bait ou and the kite out just in time 1 I to reach the first and larger school. I was so excited that I did not see we were heading right 1 into it. Jiy intent gaze was riveted upon my bait ; as it skinimcd the surface. The swells were long, 1 low. smooth mounds. My bait went out of sight behind one. It was then I saw water fly high and 1 I felt a tug. I jerked so hard I nearly fell over. My bait shot over the top of the swell. Then that 1 swell opened and burst a bronze back appeared. . He missed the hook. Another tuna, also missing, 1 leaped into tho air a fish of one hundred and fifty f pounds, glittering green and silver and blue, jaws open, fins stiff, tail quivering clear and elean-ent 1 above the surface. Again we all yelled. Actually i before he fell there was" another smash and another tuna had my bait. This one I hooked. His rush J was irresistible. I released the drag on the reel, i It whirled and whizzed. The line threw a fine spray into my face. Then the tip of my rod flew j up with a jerk the line slacked. We all knew what that meant. 1 reeled in. The line had broken above the few feet of double line which we always 1 used next the leader. More than ever disaster : loomed over me. The feeling was unshakable now. Nevertheless I realized that wonderful good for- 1 tune attended us in the fact that tho school of big tuna had scarcely any noticeable fear of the boat they would not stay down and they were ravenous. PLENTY OF ACTION, BUT NO FISH. On our next run down upon them I had a smashing strike. The tuna threw tho hook. Another got the bait and I hooked him. He sounded. The line broke. We tried again. No sooner had we reached the school when the water boiled and foamed at my 1 bait. Hefore I could move that tuna cleaned the : hook. Our next attempt gained another sousing strike. 15ut lie was so swift and I was so slow that I could not fasten to him. "He went, away from here," my brother said, with what he meant, for comedy. Hut it was not funny. Captain Dan then put on a double hook, embedding it so one hook stood clear of the bait. AVe tested by line with the scales and it broke at fifty-three pounds which meant it was a good strong line. The breeze lulled and fanned at intervals. It seemed, however, we did not need anv breeze. AVe had edged our school of big tuna away from the other schools, and it was milling on the surface, lazily and indifferently. Hut what latent sjieed and power lay hidden in that mess of lolling tuna! It. C, from his perch above, yelled: "Liook out! Youre going to drag your bait in front of the leaders this time!" That had not happened yet. I glowed m spite of the fact that I was steeped in gloom. We were indeed heading most favorably for the leaders. Captain Dan groaned. "Never seen the like of this!" he added. Those leaders were several yards apart, as could be told by the blunt-nosed ridges of water they shoved ah-.-id of them. That was another moment added to the memorable moments of my fishing years. It avis strained suspense. Hope would not die, but disaster loomed like a shadow. Hefore I was ready, before we expected anything, before we got near these leaders a brilliant hissing White splash buiwt out of the sea, and a tuna of magnificent proportions shot broadside along and above the surface, sending the spray aloft and he hit that bait with incredible, swiftness, raising a twentv-foot square furious splash as ho hooked himseif. I sat spellbound. I heard my line whistling off tho reel, l.ut I saw only that swift descending kite. So swiftly did the tuna sound that the kite shot down as if it had been dropping lead. My line broke and my rod almost leaped out of my hr.nds. BROKEN LINES AND DISAPPOINTMENT. AVe wore all silent a moment. The school of tuna showed again, puttering and fiddling around, with great blue and green flashes caught by the sun. "That one weighed about two hundred and fifty," was all Captain Dan said. It. C. remarked facetiously, evidently to cheer me: "Jakey, you picks de shots out of that phuc-jay an we" makes ready for amidder one!" .Say, do you imagine you can make me laugh!" I asked, in tragic scorn. "Well, if you could have seen yourself when that tuna struck youd have laughed," replied he. While Dan steered tho boat It. C. got out on the bow and gaffed the kite. I watched the tuna tails : standing like half cimefers out of the smooth , colored water. The sun was setting in a golden , haze spotted by pink clouds. The wind, if anything, was softer than ever; in fact, we could not feel it unless we headed the boat into it. The . fellow below us was drifting off farther, still I plugging at his tuna. Captain Dan put. the jvet kite on the deck to , .drv and got out another silk one. li soared aloft so" easilv that I imagined our luck was changing. Vain fishermans delusion! Nothing could do that. There were thousands of tons actually thousands of tons of tuna in that three-mile stretch of ruffled water, but I could not catch one. It was a i settled conviction. I was reminded of what Enos, . the Portuguese boatman, complained to an angler he had out: "You inns unluck fisherman I ever see! AVe tried a shorter kite line and a shorter length of mv line, and we ran down upon that mess of tuna once "more. It was strange and foolish how we , . stuck to that school of biggest fish. This time Dan headed right into the thick of them. Out of the , ; corners of my eyes I seemed to see tuna settling down all around. Suddenly my brother yelled. Zam! That was a huge, loud splash back of my bait. The tuna missed. It. C. yelled again. Captain Dan followed suit: "Hes after it! Oh, hes j the biggest vet! Then T saw a huge tuna wallowing in a surge "round my bait. He heaved up, round 1 and big as a barrel, flashing a wide bar of blue-green, and he got the hook. If he had been strangelv slow he was now unbelievably swift. His j size gave me panic. I never moved, and he hooked 1 himself. Straight down lie shot and the line broke. My brothers sympathy now was as sincere as Captain Dans misery. I asked It. C. to take the ; rod and see if lie could do better. "Not much!" he replied. "When you get one then Ill try stay with "em. now!" FAILURE, LAUGHTER AND PROFANITY. Not improbably I would have stayed out until I the tuna quit if that had taken all night. Three ; more times we put up the kite three more flying-fish we wired on the double hooks three more runs we made through that tantalizing school of C tuna that grew linger and swifter anil more impossible three more smashing wide breaks of water on the strike and quicker than a flash three more ; broken lines! I imagined I was .resigned. My words to my silent t comrades were even cheerful. "Come on. Try again. . Where theres life theres hope. Its an exceedingly rare experience, anyway. After all, nothing depends upon my catching one of these tuna. It t doesnt matter." All of which attested to the singular . state of my mind. Another kite, another leader and double hook, , another bait had to be arranged. This took time. . My impatience, my nervousness Were hard to restrain. Captain Dan was pale and grim. I do not t know how I looked. Only It. C. no longer looked 1 at me. As we put out the bait we made the discovery r that the other anglers, no doubt having ended their r fight, were running down upon our particular school of tuna. This was in line with our luck. Other r schools of tuna were in sight, but these fellows had to head for ours. It galled me when I thought t how sportsmanlike I had been to attract their attention. - AVe aimed to head them off and reach the school first. As we were the closer all augured well for our success. Hut gloom invested whatever f hopes I had. We beat the other boat. AVe had just got our boat opposite tho school of tuna when Dan yelled: : "Iook out for that bunch of kelp! Jump your bait t ever it!" THE RECORD DAY FOR BAD LUCK Then I spied the mass of floating seaweed. I I knew absolutely that my hook was going to snag it. Hut I tried to be careful, quick, accurate. I jumped 1 my bait. It fell short. The hook caught fast in the 2 kelp. In the last piece! The kite fluttered like a i bird with broken wings nnd dropped. Captain Dan l reversed the boat. Then ho burst out. Now Dan i was a big man and he had a stentorian voice, deep, , like booming thunder. No man ever swore as Dan i swore then. It was terrible. It was justified. IJut, t it was funny, and despite all this agony of disappointment - despite the other boat heading into the j j,ima and putting them Uowii I laughed till I cried. 1 t s 1 I t 1 i 1 t 1 : 1 I 1 ; 1 1 1 . 1 f 1 i J i j 1 : 1 1 : : , , . I , i . , . , ; j 1 j 1 ; I ; C ; t . t . , . t 1 r r r t - f : t I I 1 2 i l i , i t - j Tlu Xbdiermcn in that other boat hooked a fish 1 and broke it off. We iw from the excitement on Ixiard that they hail realized the enormous size of these tuna. We hurried to get ready again. It , was only needful to drag a bait anywhere near that school. And we alternated witli the other boat. saw those fishermen get four more strikes and lose the four fisli immediately. I had even worse luck. In fact, disaster grew and grew. But there is : no need for me to multiply these instances. The last three tuna 1 hooked broke the double line on the first run. Tliis when I had on only a straight drag! The other boat puddled around in our school and finally put it down for good. And as the other schools had disappeared wo started for home. This was the most remarkable an unfortunate day ever had on the sea, where many strange fishing experiences have been mine. Captain Dan had never heard of the like in eighteen years as boatman. No such large sized tuna, not to mention numbers, had visited Catalina for many years. I had thirteen strikes, not counting more than one strike to a bait. Seven fish broke the single line and three the double line, practically, I might say, before they had run far enough to cause any great strain. And the parting of the double line, where, if a break had occurred, it would have come on the single, convinced us that all these lines were cut. Cut by other than tuna! In this huge school of hungry fish, whenever one ran for or with a bait, all the others dived pell-mell after him. The line, of course, made a white streak in the water. Perhaps the tuna bit it off. Perhaps they crowded it off. However they did it, the fact was that they cut the line. Probably it would have been impossible to catch one of those- largo tuna on the Tuna Club tackle. I hated to think of breaking off hooks in fish, but after it was too late, I remembered with many a thrill the size and beauty and tremendous striking energy of those tuna, the wide, white foamy furious boils on the surface, the lunges when hooked and the runs swift as bill-lets. That experience would never come to mo again. It was like watching for the rare transformations of nature that must be waited for and which come so seldom. OTHER FISHERMEN HAVE FAIR LUCK. But such is the persistence of mankind in general and the doggedness of fishermen in particular. Captain Dan and I kept on roaming the seas in search of tuna. Nothing more was seen or heard of the great drifting schools. They had gone down the channel toward Mexico, down with the mysterious currents of the sea, fulfilling their mission in life. However, different anglers reported good sized tuna off Seal Itocks and Silver Canyon. Several fish were hooked. Mr. Hood brough in a one hundred and forty-one-pound tuna that took five hours to land. It made a dogged, desperate resistance and was almost unbeatable. Mr. Heed is a heavy, powerful man, and he said this tuna gave him the hardest task he ever attempted. I wondered what I would have done with one of those two or three hundred-pounders. There is r" difference between Pacific and Atlantic tuna. The latter are seacows compared to those blue pluggers of the west. I have hooked several large tuna along the Seabright coast, and though these fisli got away, they did not give me the battle I have had with small tuna of the Pacific. Mr. AVertheim, fishing with my old boatman, Horseniackerel Sam, landed a two hundred and sixty-two-pound Atlantic tuna is less than two hours. Sam said the fish made a loggy, rolling easy fight. Crowinshield, also fishing with Sam, caught one weighing three hundred pounds in rather short order. This sort of feat cannot be done out here in the Pacific. The deep water here may have something to do with it, but the tuna are different, if not in species, then in disposition. My lucky day came after no tuna had been reported for a week. Captain Dan and I ran out off Silver Canyon just on a last forlorn hope. The sea was ripping white and blue, witli a good breeze. No whales showed. AVe left Aralon about one oclock, ran out five miles and began to fish. Our methods had undergone some change. AVe used a big kite out on three hundred yards of line; wo tied this line on my leader; and wo tightened the drag on the reel so that it took a nine pound pull to start the line off. This seemed a fatal procedure, but I was willing to try anything. My hope of getting a strike was exceedingly slim. Instead of a flying-fish for bait we used a good sized snielt, and we used hooks, big and strong, and sharp as needles. ANOTHER DAY AND STILL MORE TUNA. AVe had not been out half and hour when Dan loft the wheel and jumped up on the gunwale to look at something. "What do you see?" I asked eagerly. He was silent a moment. I daresay lie did not want to make any mistakes. Then lie jumped back to the wheel. "School of tuna!" ho boomed. I stood up -and looked in the direction indicated, but I could not see them. Dan saiil only the movement on the water could be seen. Good, long swells were running rather high, and presently I did see tuna showing darkly bronze in the blue water. They vanished. We had to turn the boat somewhat and it began to appear that we should have difficulty in putting the bait into the school. So it turned out. We were in the wrong quarter to use the wind. I saw the school of tuna go by, yerliaps two hundred feet from the boat. They were traveling fast. somewhat under the surface, and were separated from each other. They were big tuna, but nothing near the size of those that had wrecked my tackle and hopes. Captain Dan said they were hungry hunting fish. To me they appeared game, swift and illusive. AVe lost sight of them. AVitli the boat turned fairly into the west Mind the kite soared, pulling hard, and my bait skipped down the slopes of the swells and im over the crests just like a live leaping little fish. It was my opinion that the tuna were running inshore. Dan said they were- headed west. We saw nothing of them. Again the old disappointment knocked at my heart, with added bitterness of past defeat. Dan scanned the sea like a shipwrecked mariner watching for a sail. "I see them! . . . There!" lie called. "Theyre sure traveling fast." A GIANT TUNA HOOKED AT LAST. That stimulated nie with .t shock. I looked and looked, but I could not see the darkened water. Moments passed, during which I stood up, watching my bait as it slipped over the waves. I knew Dan would tell me when to begin to julnp it. The suspense grew to be intense. "Well catch up with them." said Dan, ex- citedly. "Everythings right now. Kite high, pull-! ing hard bait working fine. Youre sure of a strike. . . . AVhen you see one get the bait hook quick and hard." The ambition of years, the long patience, the endless efforts, the numberless disappointments, and that nevcr-to-be-forgotten day among the giant tuna these flashed up at Captain Dans words of certainty and, together with the thrilling proximity of the tuna we were chasing, they roused in me emotion utterly beyond proportion, or reason. This had happened to me before, notably in sword -i fishing, but never had I felt such thrills, such tingling nerves, such oppression on my chest, such a wild eager rapture. It would have been im-possible, notwithstanding my emotional tempera- incut, if the leading up to this moment had not included so much long-sustained feeling, "Jump your bait!" called. Dan. with a ring in his voice. "In two jumps youll be in the tail-, enders." I jerked my rod. The bait gracefully leaped over a swell shot along the surface and ended with a splash. Again I jerked. As the bait rose into the air a huge angry splash burst just under it, and a broad-backed tuna lunged and turned clear over, his tail smacking the water. "Jump it!" yelled Dan. Hefore I could move a circling smasli of white surrounded my bait. I heard it.. AVith all my might I jerked. Strong anil heavy came the weight of the tuna. I had hooked him. AVith one solid thumping slash lie sounded. GLORIOUS FIGHT OF A GIANT OF THE SEA. Here was test for line and test for me. I could not resist one turn of the thumb-wheel to case the drag. He went down with the same old incompar-1 able speed. I saw the kite descending. Dan threw out the clutch ran to my side. The reel screamed. Every tense second, as the line whizzed off. I ex-r pected it to break. There was no joy, no sport in that painful watching. He ran off two hundred feet then marvelous to see he slowed up. The kite was- still high, pulling hard. AVhat with kite and drag and friction of line in the water that tuna had great strain noon him. He ran off a little more, slower this time, then stooped. The kite began to flutter. I fell into the chair, jammed the rod butt into the socket, and began to pump and wind. "Doc, youre hooked on and youve stopped him!" boomed Dan. His face beamed. "Look at your legs!" It became manifest then that my keens were wabbling, my feet outtering around, my whole lower limbs shaking as if I had the palsy. I had lost control of my lower muscles. It was funny; it was ridiculous. It showed just what was my state of excitement. The kite fluttered down to the water. The kite- 1 , : line had not broken off, and this must add severely to the strain on the fish. Not. only had 1 slopped the tuna hut soon ! had him coming up, slowly, yet rather easily. He was directly under the boat. When I had all save about one hundred feet of line wound in the tuna anchored himself and would not budge for fifteen minutes. Then again rather easily he was raised fifty more feet. He acted like any small hard-fighting fisli. "Ive hooked a little one," I began. "That big fellow l:e missed the bait, and a small one grabbed it." Dan would not say so, but ho feared just that. AVhat miserable black luck! Almost I threw the rod and reel overboard. Some sense, however, prevented me from such an absurdity. And as I worked tho tuna closer and closer I grew absolutely sick with disappointment. The only thing to do was to haul this little fish in and go hunt up the school. So 1 pumped and pulled. That half hour seemed endless and bad business altogether. Anger possessed me and I began to work harder. At this juncture Shortys boat appeared close to us. Shorty and Adams waved congratulations, and then made motions to Dair to get tho direction of the school of tuna. That night both Shorty and Adams told me I was working hard on the fish, too hard to save any "strength for a long battle. BEAUTY OF THE FIGHTING TUNA. Captain Dan watched the slow, steady bends of my rod. as the tuna plugged, and at last he said: "Doe, its a big fish!" Strange to relate this did not electrify mo. I did not believe it. Hut at the end of that half hour the tuna came clear to the surface about one hundred feet from us, and there he rode the swells. Doubt folded his sable wing! Bronze and blue and green and silver flashes illumined, the swells. I plainly saw that not only was the tuna big, but he was one of the long, slim, hard-fighting species. Presently lie sounded, and T began to work. I was fresh, eager, strong, and I meant to whip him quickly. Working on a big tuna is no joke. It is a mans job. A tuna fights on his side with head down and he never stops. If the angler rests the tuna will not only rest, too. but he will take more and more line. The method is a long slow lift or pump of rod then lower the rod quickly and wind the reel". AVhtu the tuna is raised so high lie will refuse to come any higher, and then there is a deadlock. There lives no fisherman but what there lives a " tuna that can take the conceit and the fight out of him; For an hour I worked. I sweat and panted and burned in the hot sun; and I enjoyed it. The sea was beautiful. A strong, salty fragrance, wet and sweet, floated on the breeze. Catalina showed clear and bright, with its colored cliffs and yellow slides and dark ravines. Clemente Island rose a dark, long, barren, lonely land to the southeast. The clouds in the west were like trade "wind clouds, white, regular, with level baseline. At the end of the second hour I was tiring. There came a subtle change of spirit and mood. I had never let up for a minute. Captain Dan praised me. vowed I hitd never fought either broadbill or round-bill swordfish so consistently hard, but he cautioned me to save myself. "Thats a big tuna." he said, as lie watched my rod. FEAR OF SHARK INTERFERENCE. Most of the timo wo drifted. Some of the time Dan ran the boat to keep even with the tuna, so he could not get too far under the stern and cut the line. At intervals the fish appeared to let up and at others plugged harder. This, I discovered, was merely that he fought the hardest when I worked the hardest. Once we gained enough on him to cut the tangle of kite-line that had caught some fifty feet above my leader. This afforded cause for less anxiety. "Im afraid of sharks," said Dan. Sharks are the bane of tuna fishermen. More tuna are cut off by sharks than are ever landed by anglers. This mad me redouble my efforts, and in half an hour more I was dripping wet, burning hoi, aching all over and m spent I had to rest. Every lime I dropped the rod ou the gunwale the tuna took line zee zee zet foot by foot and yard by yard. My hands were cramped; my thumbs "red and swollen, almost raw. I asked Dan for the harness, but lie was loath to put it on because he was afraid I would break the fish off. So I worked on and on, with spurts of fury and periods of lagging. At the end of three hours I was in bad condition. I had saved a little strength for the finish, but I was in danger of using that up before the crucial moment arrived. Dan had put the harness on me. I knew afterward that it saved the day. By the aid of the harness, putting my shoulders into tile lift, I got the double line over the reel, only to lose it. Every time the tuna was pulled near the boat he sheered off, and it did not appear possible for me to prevent it. He got into a habit of coming to the surface about thirty feet out, and hanging there, in plain sight as if he was cabled to the rocks of -the ocean. Watching him only augmented my trouble. It had ceased long ago to be fun or sport or game. It was now a fight and it began to be torture. My hands were all blisters my thumbs raw. The respect I had fr that tuna was great. THE FOUR-HOUR BATTLE WON. He plugged down mostly, but latterly he began to run off to each side, to come to tho surface, showing his broad, green-silver side, and then lie weaved to and fro behind the boat trying to get under it. Captain Dan would have to run ahead to keep away from him. To hold what gain I had on the tuna was at these periods almost unendurable. AVhere before I had sweat, burned, throbbed and ached, I now began to see red, to grow dizzy, to suffer cramps and nausea and exceeding pain. Three hours "and a half showed the tuna slower, heavier, higher, easier. He had taken us fifteen miles from where we had hooked him. He was weakening, but I thought I was worse off than lie was. Dan changed the harness. It seemed to make more effort possible. The floor under- my feet was wet and slippery from the salt water dripping off my reel. I could not get any footing. The bend of that rod downward, the ceaseless tug, tug. the fear of sharks, tiie paradoxical loss of desire now to land the tuna, the change in my feeling of elation and thrill to wonder, disgust and utter weariness of spirit and body all these warned me that I was at the end of my tether, and if anything could be done it must be quickly. Relaxing, I took a short rest. Then nerving myself to be indifferent to the pain, and yielding altogether to the brutal instinct this tuna fighting rouses in a fisherman, I lay back with might and main. Eight times I had got the double line over the reel. On the ninth I shut down, clamped with my thumbs and froze there. The -wire leader sung like a telephone wire in the cold. I could scarcely see. My arms cracked. I felt an immense strain that must break me in an instant. Captain Dan readied the leader. Slowly lie heaved. The strain upon me was released. I let go the reel, threw off the drag, and stood up. There the tuna was. the bronze and blue-backed devil, gaping, wide-eyed, shining and silvery as he rolled, a big tuna, if there ever was one, and ho was conquered. AVhen Dan lunged with the gaff the tuna made a tremendous splash that deluged us. Then Dan yelled for another gaff. I was quick to get it. Next it was for me to throw a lasso over that thrashing tail. When I accomplished this the tuna was ours. AVe-hauled him up on the stern, heaving, thumping, throwing water and blood, and even vanquished, he was magnificent. Three hours and fifty minutes! The number fifty stayed witli me. . As I fell back in a chair, all in, I could not see for my life why any fisherman would want to catch more than one large tuna. Zane Grey, in Field and Streani.
