The Saint Paul globe., 1904-06-19

pursuit of the prey that ploughs the
sea in terror ahead.
In every cove, every basin where
boat can lie, sails 60 up now Out Of
the very shadow of New York's sky
scrapers goes forth a white fleet
Presently the squat lightships of the .
Scotland and Sandy Hook that have
been left to roll in undisturbed soil
tude ever since the November of the
preceding year, are surrounded by
boats Of all sorts and descriptions,
from the catboat to the steamer
Some Old Tars Are
Only Happy When
the "Blues" Strike In
There are more than two hundred
old tars in the city of New York
alone who earn their living day in,
day out, taking out fishing parties in
their craft Along the shore from
Cape May on New Jersey to Mon
tauk Point on Long Island there are
more than a thousand. Few Of these
are truly happy till they hold their
brown paws around the tiller when
"she is ripping it into the blues"
Then they rise to the apotheosis of
sailing. They beat the bluefsh at his
own game Let the schools turn and
double as they will, the shippers will
keep the boats in their midst, cutting
| diagonally across their path, so that
the trolled squids shall meet the prey.
| Where more than two or three are
! fishing from a boat-and sometimes a
sloop or a schooner will carry thir-
! ty blue fshermen-the lines are swung
out from the side on booms armed
with pul1eys, so that they shall not
| foul each other.
But the way to know what the pluck
of the bluefsh is like is to stand
alongside the old pirate at the tiller
and fish straight astern. All at once
the sportsman's arms will straighten
out with a jerk as if they didn't like
his shoulder blades any more and
meant to party company; it is the
gentle hint that the blue has taken
hold
Now, if the skipper has twinkle in
his eye, brace yourself; for the
chances are that he has c1ose-hauled
little, making the boat go a little
faster, in the Christian desire to let
you have ali the sport that is coming.
Hooking a Blue"
Is No Chi1d's Play
for Novice
In that case, your second emotion
will be one Of sorrow that your arms
/ did not part company with the should
ers; for the fish will have stopped
ad-abSolutely dead-in that sea
astern, while the brute of a boat ca
reers gaily ahead; and you are the un-
| haDDv link between the two
You have taken wrapping of line
around your hand before this; but un-
der the strain, you feel it slipping
slowly, cutting through skin and flesh
as it gives. And you would let go of
the fish with devout Joy if you only
could
But the skipper, having had his lit
tie joke, and seeing you fast to big
one, lets his ship yaw a bit; you gain
few feet of line in the respite.
1t doesn't stay with you long. That
which is at the other end dives deep,
going sideways, with a semi-circular
swing like the motion of a living
scythe. And every foot Of depth
that it gains is so much weight added
by the sea.
You are sure at last that you will
go overheard with it if it goes an
other foot deeper; but you don't. You
hold on and the captains grin makes
you brace your shoulders a little
harder. Just a little-but it is the
turning point. The thing in the sea
surges, and what was a straight,
smooth, rushing pull, like the ire
sistible pull of smooth green water
sliding over fume, now becomes a
plunge and tugging; and you know
that you've got him.
The Glorious
Moment of Victory
That Crowns the Sport
Up, up, up! 1t comes so quickly
that before you know it, something
slender and immense and dripping
has turned over and over twice, has
dropped back into the sea and is run
ming like race horse at right angles
to the course of the boat
Nov haul in! Haul Haul" yells
the captain. Don't you give him no
slack line now or he'll get away"
And Haul! HaulW yell the others
on the boat.
1t is the critical time. At any in
slant now the big fish may turn and
come ravening to the boat with his
great jaws swapping; and if the line
slackens, in a jify he will leap again
and shake the hook from his jaws, or,
jumping ahead in a spraying arc,
catch the blight of line between his
teeth and bite it off
But, nerved by the shouts, you haul
haul till you feel that your arms
cannot move again; and somebody
reaches over your shoulder and with
l..
twelve-pounder, to thrash and thump
and champ his teeth on the bottom OF
l the sloop.