American Angler in Australia (1937) (5 page)

Modifications and variations of these methods are numerous.

To catch fish is not all of fishing, to be sure, and any device or metho
d
is permissible so long as it pleases an angler and lends to his spor
t
that personal and peculiar fetish which is one of the joys of the game. I
d
oubt that there ever was a fisherman who did not conceive and inven
t
some gadget all his own, and some manner of using it that to him was th
e
best. That is one of the many reasons why fishing, to my way of thinking
,
is the greatest of all sports.

The possibilities of Australian big-game fishing intrigue me and excit
e
me more and more, as I fish myself, and receive more and more word fro
m
different and widely separated places on Australia's grand coast o
f
thirteen thousand miles.

I expected to find Australia and New Zealand somewhat alike, and th
e
fishing also. They are totally different. In any fishing trip, such as I
c
all worthy of the name, there are many considerations that make for th
e
ultimate success and memorable record. The beauty and color of th
e
surrounding country, the birds and snakes and animals, the trees an
d
hills, the long sandy beaches, and the desolate ragged shorelines, th
e
lonely islands--all these and many more appeal to me as much as the actua
l
roaming the sea, in rain and shine, in calm and storm, and the catchin
g
of great game fish.

One of the pleasantest experiences I have ever had, and one the joy o
f
which will grow in memory, is to be awakened in the dusk of dawn by th
e
kookaburras. That is unique. The big mollyhawks of New Zealand, th
e
laughing gulls of California, that awaken you at dawn and are thing
s
never forgotten, cannot compare with these strange and homely an
d
humorous jackasses of the Australian woods.

We ran our score of big fish caught up to twenty-one in seven weeks
,
which list, considering that half this time was too bad weather to fish
,
and that it included my black Marlin record of four hundred and eight
y
pounds, two of the same around four hundred pounds, and a really rar
e
fish, the green Fox thresher, must be considered very good indeed.

It turned out, however, that my last day off Bermagui was really the mos
t
thrilling and profitable to Australia, as well as to me.

This was an unusually beautiful day for any sea. The morning was sunny
,
warm, and still. There seemed to be the balminess of spring in the air.

We got an early start, a little after sunrise, with the idea of runnin
g
far offshore--"out wide," the market fishermen call it--into th
e
equatorial stream.

I had been out in this current several times off Montague Island, but no
t
very far, and not to study it particularly. The camera crew came on th
e
Avalon with me, owing to their boat being in need of engine repairs.

Bait was easy to catch and quite abundant, which fact always lends a
n
auspicious start to a fish day. The boys yelled in competition a
s
they hauled in the yellowtail (king fish), bonito, and salmon.

Shearwater ducks were wheeling over the schools of bait, and th
e
gannets were making their magnificent dives from aloft. A gannet
,
by the way, is the grandest of all sea-fowl divers.

Mr. Rogers had been among the Marlin the day before, fifteen mile
s
northeast of Montague, and Mr. Lynn had also been among them twenty mile
s
directly east of Bermagui. Our plan was to locate one or other of them
,
and find the fish. As a matter of fact, we ran seventy miles that day an
d
could not even get sight of them. But we found the fish and they did not.

This lent additional substantiation to my theory that in a fast-movin
g
clean current, fish will never be found in the same place the next day.

It is useless to take marks on the mountains for the purpose of locatin
g
a place out at sea where the fish were found today, because they go wit
h
the current and the bait. In deep water, say two hundred and twenty-fiv
e
fathoms off Bermagui, the bottom has no influence whatever on the fish.

In shallow water the bottom has really great influence.

We ran thirty miles by noon. No fish sign of any kind--no birds or bai
t
or splashes or fins--just one vast heaving waste of lonely sea, like
a
shimmering opal.

After lunch I told the outfit that I guessed it was up to me to find som
e
kind of fish, so I climbed forward and stood at the mast to scan the sea.

This was an old familiar, thrilling custom of mine, and had been learne
d
over many years roaming the sea for signs of tuna or broadbill swordfish.

In the former case you see splashes or dark patches on the glassy sea; i
n
the latter you see the great sickle fins of that old gladiator Xiphia
s
gladius, surely the most wonderful spectacle for a sea angler.

In this case, however, all I sighted was a hammerhead shark. His shar
p
oval fin looked pretty large, and as his acquisition might tend to goo
d
fortune, I decided to drop him a bait and incidentally show my camer
a
crew, who had been complaining of hard battles with sharks, how easy i
t
could be done.

Using a leader with a small hook, I had the boatman put on a small piec
e
of bait, and crossed the track of the hammerhead with it. When he struc
k
the scent in the water he went wild, and came rushing up the wake, hi
s
big black fin weaving to and fro, until he struck. Hammerheads hav
e
rather small mouths, but they are easily hooked by this method. In
a
couple of minutes I had hold of this fellow.

After hooking him I was careful not to pull hard on him. That is th
e
secret of my method with sharks, of which I have caught a thousand. The
y
are all alike. They hate the pull of a line and will react violently
,
according to what pressure is brought to bear. If they are not "horsed,"
a
s the saying goes, they can be led up to the boat to the gaff. Thi
s
means a lot of strenuous exercise for the boatmen, but only adds t
o
the fun. Shooting, as is employed here in Australia, and harpooning
,
as done in New Zealand, disqualify a fish.

I had this hammerhead up to the boat in twelve minutes, and I neve
r
heaved hard on him once. Emil, my still photographer, a big stron
g
fellow, had had a three-hour battle with one a little smaller, and h
e
simply marveled at the trick I had played on the shark, and him, too.

There was a merry splashing mOlTe at the gaffing of this hammerhead, i
n
which all the outfit engaged. It was the largest hammerhead I had seen i
n
Australian waters, probably close to six hundred pounds. Off the Perlo
s
Islands I have seen eighteen-foot hammerheads, with heads a third tha
t
wide. I understand the Great Barrier Reef has twenty-two-foo
t
hammerheads. Australia is verily the land, or water, for sharks; and I a
m
vastly curious to see what a big one will do to me. Mr. Bullen was fou
r
and a half hours on his nine hundred and eighty pound tiger shark, and I
h
ave heard of longer fights. No doubt I am due for a good licking, bu
t
that will be fun.

We raised a Marlin presently, and I ran back to the cockpit to coax thi
s
fellow to bite; and we had an exciting half-hour photographing an
d
catching him--a good sized striped spearfish of two hundred and ninet
y
pounds.

Not long after this event I sighted white splashes far to the southeast.

I yelled to the boys, "Tuna splashes!"

We ran on, and in due time I saw dark patches on the smooth surface, an
d
then schools of leaping bait fish, and then the gleaming flash of
a
leaping tuna in the air. He was big, too, easily one hundred and fift
y
pounds. Emil, who had seen this superb fish at Catalina, yelled hi
s
enthusiasm. There were scattered sharp splashes all over the sea. Thi
s
meant tuna were feeding.

While Peter hooked up the engine and we bore down on these dark patches
,
I put on a tuna gig such as we use in the South Seas. Long before w
e
reached the agitated waters I had a fine strike. Tuna always hoo
k
themselves. This one ran down and down, and had run four hundred yards o
f
line off the reel before he slowed up.

I stopped him right under the boat, and then had some strenuous wor
k
pumping and winding him up. It required more than half an hour, that is
,
counting his narrowing circles under the boat. The sun was directl
y
overhead, the sea perfectly calm, the water clear as crystal; and it wa
s
a striking picture to see that dazzling tuna as he came nearer and neare
r
to the boat.

I hoped that he would weigh a hundred pounds and cautioned Peter to mak
e
sure at the gaff. When hauled aboard this fish presented a most beautifu
l
sight. He was a yellow-fin tuna, not to be confounded with the Australia
n
and Western Pacific tunny; and the opal and blue and gold colors
,
blending in a dazzling effect, as bright as sunlight on jewels, were s
o
lovely that it seemed a shame to kill their possessor.

But this was a valuable catch, much more important than any size o
r
species of swordfish. I was simply delighted.

In my correspondence for three years with Australian anglers and marke
t
fishermen I had been told of vast schools of large round blue fish tha
t
had been sighted offshore in July and August. These fish had bee
n
sighted, but not classified. I concluded they were tuna, and with thi
s
lucky catch I had verified my opinion.

Yellow-fin tuna furnish California with one of its big commercia
l
assets--a fifty-million-dollar-a-year canned-tuna industry. There ar
e
floating canneries on the sea and canneries on shore. San Pedro,
a
thriving town, depends upon the tuna catch. For thirty years thi
s
business has been increasing. Large boats have been built, wit
h
refrigeration machinery and huge storage capacity, and these vessels pl
y
far in pursuit of the schools of tuna. In 1927, when I found yellow-fi
n
tuna at the Galapagos Islands, and showed motion pictures to verify it
,
the Japanese and American fleets were hot after these fresh schools. Fiv
e
hundred tons of tuna, at a hundred dollars a ton, meant big profit.

Australian commercial interests have something to think about. It can b
e
depended upon--these yellow-fin tuna are more and more in demand. Japanes
e
ships now come clear to the Californian and Mexican coasts, and down of
f
South America. It will be a close run to Australian waters.

The extent and abundance of this annual migration of yellow-fin tuna of
f
the South Coast should be ascertained; and the result might well be
a
tremendous business for Australians, and what is more, a valuable an
d
inexpensive food supply bound to take place of the more expensive meats.