American Angler in Australia (1937) (4 page)

BOOK: American Angler in Australia (1937)
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Bait we found difficult to procure. The yellowtail and bonito aroun
d
Montague Island had a most unobliging habit of biting not more than abou
t
once a week. The native boatmen on the Tin Horn promised to catch salmo
n
for us, but up to the date of this writing they did not do so. I foun
d
myself longing for the huge schools of trevalli and kahawai that mak
e
fishing in New Zealand such a joy. The fishing along this Australian coas
t
is too new and strange and, uncertain for me to make any prediction
s
as yet.

My first really big fish I raised opposite the lighthouse on Montague
,
not very far out. He struck at the bait, missed it, and left a froth
y
boil on the water. Then he came back at it, a dark shape, incredibl
y
swift, and actually took it without showing his spear. He was off as fas
t
as the big Marlin I lost. When I hooked him I came up solid on a heav
y
fish. The sensation was most agreeable, although the jerk shifted me of
f
my chair and almost cracked my neck.

We signaled the camera-boat to speed up. My line was reeling off an
d
beginning to surface. Peter yelled that he was coming up. This moment o
f
expectation is always thrilling. He broke water, showing a short blac
k
bill, a big head and deep body, shining like a black opal.

"Black Marlin!" I whooped, and Peter echoed me.

After a moment I warned Peter to steady up and keep away from him, and t
o
wave back the keen camera men, who would have run right on top of th
e
fish. Then I "put the wood on him," as the American angling saying goes.

We got within two hundred feet, and signaled the camera-boat to com
e
along behind and somewhat out to the right. In that position we ra
n
along with the black Marlin--because I could not stop him at tha
t
stage--until I saw the line rising to the surface, indication that he wa
s
about to jump.

I was all excitement, yet tense with caution and strong physica
l
exertion. He was hard to hold. His blunt bill appeared splitting th
e
surface, and then his head, his broad shoulders, his purple back, and al
l
of him wagged up and out, until he cleared the water by several feet. Hi
s
back was toward me, but it was easy to estimate his size and I let out
a
second whoop. I heard the crew of the Tin Horn screaming like lunatics.

They had never seen a fish approaching the size and beauty of this one.

He plunged back with a thundering smash. Then, as I expected, he came ou
t
again, faster, this time broadside, and indeed a wonderful picture for a
n
angler to gloat over.

"Oh, gosh!" I groaned. "If the camera boys only get that one in thei
r
little black box!"

His third leap was still faster, and more of a spectacle, as he went lo
w
and long, all of him up, with his wide tail waving. This time he dive
d
back and sounded. He went deep and stayed down.

I fought him an hour or more before I could hold him even a little.

Following that, he rose again to the surface, to repeat his trio o
f
leaps, and after that he woke up and tore the sea to shreds. He made hi
s
most magnificent leap, which I could not see, in front of the boat. Gu
s
was up there on the boat, and when he came back to the cockpit he wa
s
beside himself with triumph and ecstasy.

"Holy Mackali! what a fish! I had him in the finder every jump."

When the black Marlin soused back the last time I had a feeling we woul
d
see no more of him until I brought him up to gaff. I was right, and thi
s
time did not arrive for over and hour. We were extremely careful at thi
s
most hazardous moment, and as luck would have it Peter soon had a rop
e
round the Marlin's tail. And I knew I had the record swordfish fo
r
Australia.

We steamed back to Bermagui and the men carried the black Marlin ashore.

Lying on the green grass, the fish looked grand. He was indeed a blac
k
opal hue. When I named this species some ten years ago I should have use
d
the word opal and have called it black opal Marlin. That would have bee
n
especially felicitous for Australia. He was a short fish, broad and dee
p
and round, and I estimated his weight as five hundred pounds. But I
m
issed it. The scales we procured at a Bermagui store were inadequate
,
weighing only in periods of ten. Peter called out: "Four hundred eighty.

Let it go at that."

"Not on your life, Pete," I protested. "Don't you see the scale poin
t
wavers beyond 480. He weighs something beyond 480." And I stuck t
o
that--some unknown pounds beyond 480.

There was a big crowd of spectators to see that weighing of Bermagui'
s
biggest swordfish so far, and it reminded me of the times at Avalon, whe
n
thousands of people would flock out to see a broadbill I had brought in.

Next day the ocean around Montague Island was empty for me. My boat coul
d
not raise a fish of any kind. But other boats had better luck. I saw on
e
flag flying and another boat manifestly fighting a fish.

About three o'clock we started the long run back to Bermagui. The sea ha
d
whipped up a little, and it promised to get rough. The Tin Horn had
a
lead of a couple of miles on us. We got about that distance from th
e
island and had caught up somewhat with my camera-boat when I saw tha
t
some one had hooked a fish. We ran ahead full speed, and soon drew withi
n
range to see what was going on.

Bowen had the rod and it was evident that whatever was on the rod ha
d
Bowen. He was sturdy and strong, the same as Emil, but he had neve
r
caught a swordfish, and to catch a big one off that boat, with th
e
Warrens running it, would be little short of a miracle. The fish came u
p
to surf-board along the waves, making the water fly in sheets. I had
a
poor glimpse of it. But Peter said, "Black Marlin, and a good fish, too!"

The next hour and more was harder on me that on Ed Bowen, I was sure. Bu
t
I hung around, camera in hand, hoping the fish would broach. However, h
e
did not come up; he worked out to sea. Strenuously as Ed pumped an
d
wound, he got line in only when the boatman ran up on the fish. They ra
n
in circles. They halted when the fish was running and went on when he wa
s
momentarily stopped. From the way Ed's rod wagged, I judged the fish t
o
be pretty heavy. Peter said not so big. He grew tired of circling thei
r
boat endlessly and wanted to turn back for Bermagui. I stayed as long a
s
I could stand it. I wanted to tell Ed and those boatmen what to do. Bu
t
if I had told them, and then they lost the fish, they would have blame
d
me--a terrible thing, as I knew to my cost. Finally I took up a megaphon
e
and called Ed, "Hey there--that fish is as tired as he'll ever get."

"Tired?--Good Lord!--I'm the tired one!" panted Ed. "What'll I do?"

"Stop the boat and fight him."

"Hell! He won't stop--neither will these boatmen."

"Try it once."

They made a valiant effort. Ed heaved and wound mightily. He yelled a
t
me, "Notify Australian Government--I'm pulling up--another island fo
r
them!"

"Aw, you're not pulling anything. That fish doesn't know he's hooked."

"Go AWAY!" bawled Ed. "Wanna make me--lose him?"

Peter interposed with an encouraging shout: "You'll get him. Take i
t
slower. Just keep a good strain on him. You'll get him."

"That's telling me," Ed yelled back, gratefully.

We left them to their fate and ran back to Bermagui, arriving about fiv
e
o'clock.

Just before dark the Tin Horn steamed in, proudly flying a flag. They ha
d
their fish. It was a good one, as Pete had said, and weighed four hundre
d
pounds. I congratulated Ed on a really remarkable feat. He beamed. "M
y
back's broke. Three hours! I never worked so hard in all my life."

And then he burst into a marvelous narrative of what had happened o
n
board the Tin Horn. It differed vastly from the story the boatmen told.

Emil, who is a temperamental artist, had still a weirder story to tell.

But for me each and every word was significant with proof of the humor
,
the sport, the thrill, the misery and ecstasy of big-game fishing.

Chapter
IV

Tackle and method in angling are things very important to fishermen.

And they cause more argument, controversies, and, alas! more ill-wil
l
than anything in the big-game fishing, unless it is the competition an
d
rivalry that seem unfortunately inseparable from the sport.

There was a time when I used to tell anglers what I believed to be th
e
proper and best way to fish. I never do that any more, unless directl
y
asked by some sincere amateur. But all fishermen are interested in wha
t
the others use, and here in Australia I find myself vastly intrigued an
d
confounded by the "gear" these fishermen have and the way they use it. T
o
give them just credit, I am bound to admit that they have done remarkabl
y
well with wrong measures.

I have not seen any angler using the drifting method of fishing i
n
Australian waters. This is the one mostly used in New Zealand. It remain
s
to be seen how good or bad it will be here. Here they troll from earl
y
till late, and in our American fishing parlance, they run the wheels of
f
the boat. I admit that and will say that these gentlemen have starte
d
right.

There is no limit to these fishing-waters. Swordfish are here, there, an
d
everywhere. In deep waters I do not believe they can be located daily a
t
any given point out at sea. Around the islands and near shore they can b
e
depended on to come in every few days. So far during my six weeks'
f
ishing here I find the Marlin ravenously hungry. This makes a vas
t
difference. Anybody can hook a hungry fish. Which explains the incredibl
e
success some methods attain. It can be explained by realizing that
a
hungry swordfish could be hooked with a flatiron or cricket bat. Catchin
g
it, and repeating, of course, are a different matter.

Fishing at Bermagui, Narooma and Eden, on this South Coast, is only thre
e
years old. The first method, and one still in use here, was to troll wit
h
a heavy lead on the line. It was attached to the leader by a ring fro
m
which a string stretched up to the boat. In the event of a strike th
e
lead could be jerked free from the leader.

Another method, and one still more advocated at this date, is to trol
l
the bait back a hundred and fifty feet or more, with a lighter lead. Th
e
revolving bait is considered a desirable feature. In this style th
e
teasers also were dragged quite far back.

BOOK: American Angler in Australia (1937)
4.96Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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