Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1889-12-07
"MARIOES" SEA FISHING.
HOW A SACRAMENTO LADY ENJOYS
THAT DELIGHTFUL SPORT.
She is a Good Sailor when She Tells
the story, and Never
Gets Sick.

a OdCrdLucutO lduy NlllAAs W NW COT uitu
Stream, under the nom de plume of "Ma-
rion," gives the following interesting
account of her experience:
Although a woman, / am constant
reader of Forest and Stream, and as such l
trust you will permit me to tell my "fsh
story" My husband is quite a sportsman,
and l, a very apt pupil, am fast becoming
one myself, and in no way do | take so
much real, genuine pleasure as in hunting
and fishing with my husband. We often
drive to the country early in the morning
and spend the day very pleasantly either
dove-shooting or fishing, and never return
without plenty of game, and frequently
we supply our neighbors as well as our
selves.
While spending the month of August at
Santa Cruz, Cal, we tn ught it would be
novelty to try our luck at saltwater fish
ing for the first time in our lives. But
we sincerely hope it will not be the last.)
We were informed that few tourists dared
to venture, on account Of seasickness; but
this only made Us the more determined to
go. My husband felt quite certain that |
would be seasick, and equally sure that
he would not be- while l was secretly
praying that he might be the unfortunate
one, that l might laugh at him.
We secured the services of an old Span
lard, who promised to take us out four or
five miles to sea for 81 apiece, with no
extra charge in case of sickness, and the
next morning at o'clock we were at the
wharf. Finding the little boat waiting for
us, we we're soon snugly slowed on board
and moving out to sea. The fisherman &C.
cupied seat near the bow, where he could
manage the oars. | was assigned to the
stern, while my lord and master was sit
uated directly in front of me with his back
toward me. This, | think, was a scheme
on his part that l might be convenient to
hold his head in case of sickness. Our
genial landlady had kindly provided us a
basket of lunch, consisting of pie, cake and
ham sandwiches, and L had supplied
grapes, plums and peaches, so we were not
afraid of going hungry. Our fisherman
had provided can of mussel worms for
catching smelts, which we were obliged to
have for bait before we ventured outside
the bay; and we rowed to the smelt
grounds first. This is an immense field of
sea-yeed, situated about one mile from the
wharf, and within the Bay of Montery.
We were not long in getting our tackle
in shape, and were soon trolling for the
little sinners. OF course l had to call
upon my husband to bait my hook, as it
was entirely out of the question for me to
take one of those wiggling little worms in
my fingers; and he growled Gas husbands
ALWAYS do, but lovers never all the time
while doing it, but he looked sorry when
1 carried off all the honors by landing four
beautiful little fish, while he never had a
bite, and as our fisherman assured US that
these would be sufficient for our days fish
ing, we took in our lines and started sea-
ward.
The water within the bay was as smooth
as woodland lake, and heavy fog pre-
vailed, SO that our range of vision was de-
cidedly limited, and had the peculiar
effect of making small tisherman's boat
containing a solitary fisherman appear al
most as large as an ocean steamer. Our
basket of lunch was now brought into
requisition, and we enjoyed sumptuous
repast, which we thought to be fortitca-
ton against the sickness of the sea.
Two miles from the wharf we passed the
fog-horn, which was somewhat of a curios-
ity to us, as we had never seen one of the
kind before. 1t is of boiler iron and fun
nel-shaped, with the small end upward
and the large end resting upon the water,
being SO arranged that the action of the
waves forces a current of air upward
through it, and blows the immense whistle
which is secured at the top. The anchor
which holds it in place is said to weigh
1000 pounds. The mournful moan of the
whistle had melancholy sound, which
made us feel that it was lonely living
thing, grieving, like many human being,
for a companionship never to be found.
Alone it stands two miles from the wharf,
and performs its noble duty of guiding ves-
sells as they come and go. may be fool
ish. but 1 can never recall our visit to the
old fog-horn without feeling of sadness !;
for in comparison with human life, it
seems to me if all were to give vent to
their feelings when buffeted by the cruel
waves of life, we would not be compelled
to go out to sea to find fog-horns, but we
would find them standing as lonely senti-
nels all over our land.
As we proceeded the waves grew larger,
and our little boat rose and fell with all
the ease and grace of little bird. This
was nv first trip in a small boat, and was
perfectly delighted; the sensation was
grand. and it seemed to me l could sit
there and rock forever. But ere long we
reached rock bottom and our boat was an
chored and we went to work. This time l
was Independent, for our smelts were
dressed and cut into convenient pieces for
bait and l could feed my own hooks. Our
lines were 100 feet long and had three
large hooks. We dropped them go feet
down, when the sinkers told US we had
reached bottom, and we had but short
time to wait, for decidedly jerky message
from below proclaimed "a bite" We
hauled up our lines simultaneously and
landed couple of beautiful red rock-cod
in the boat. Then we had lively time
for few hours, our fish weighing from two
to five pounds. Fishing at a depth of 80
feet is not all play, for when hauling up a
fish of even three or four pounds one is
sure he has whale on his hook. We fire.
quently found fish on two of our hooks
when we pulled them up. 1t was such
hard work for me to pull them through ~
feet of water that | conclude to hold my
hooks about 40 feet down and see what the
result would be, and l was dumb with as
constituent when l captured an immense
bluefsh. After that l caught nearly all
blues. When they quit biting fast enough
for us in one place we would row to another
and try it again; and while the Spaniard
was hauling in his anchor again, we were
busy with our lunch, so as to lose no time
We had the finest fishing day we ever had
in our lives, until at II o'clock the sea be-
gan to roll, the wind to rise and the white
caps to snap around US. Then our fisher
man declared his immediate intention Of
hosting sail and skipping out for shore:
NV heart sank within me, and l begged
him to wait until l caught just one more
but, man-llke he insisted on leaving at
once, and my line had to be wound up ;
nevertheless it was the last one pulled in.
Ny hands were swollen and red from the
salt water and sharp lines. but l had not