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Fishing in British Columbia - With a Chapter on Tuna Fishing at Santa Catalina
by Thomas Wilson Lambert
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All are the same size; about 1/2lb. They are sometimes sold in Kamloops for food. They are never seen in the lake, nor do I know if they return after spawning. This fish is also present in the Shuswap, but not in Kamloops Lake. The fishing in the Nicola River is very good as soon as it begins to clear and subside from the early summer floods, and it can be continued until the water gets too low in late August.

These lakes and rivers above described are at present the best known in this district, but there are numbers of other lakes which are full of trout, some of which are fished by the Indians, and in time will doubtless become better known to fishermen. But it is quite evident that anyone visiting this part of the country has plenty of choice, and, in fact, would hardly find time to visit and thoroughly try all the rivers and lakes described. This district of British Columbia has certain attractions of its own, not present in other parts; the climate is peculiarly fine and dry, with a most bracing and clear atmosphere. Except for an odd thunder shower, rain hardly ever falls, so that camp life is free from one of its chief drawbacks. Flies and mosquitoes are not so plentiful, though bad in certain places. The general aspect is much more open, with rolling hills of bunch grass and pine bluffs, which give the scenery a different appearance from other parts of the country.



CHAPTER VI.

The Kootenay district—Sawdust and Dynamite—Fine Sport in Vancouver—Harrison River and Lake—Big Fish in the Coquehalla—The Steel-head in the Fraser—Need for Better River Protection.

There are other parts of British Columbia which afford good fishing. Excellent sport is still to be obtained in the Kootenay district, which can be reached from Revelstoke on the main line of the Canadian Pacific Railway. Twelve years ago the fishing was unrivalled, especially on the Kootenay River. Very large bags could be got, though the fish were not quite as large as in the Thompson. But it is unfortunately true that since this district became a mining centre the fishing has been largely spoilt. Professional fishermen have fished for the market, sawmills have been allowed to empty their sawdust into the rivers, and probably alien miners and others have massacred wholesale with dynamite. In the coast district, of which Vancouver is the centre, there are plenty of rivers and lakes. This part of the country has a heavy rainfall, which causes a thick forest growth to cover the country and render the streams difficult or even impossible to fish, unless they can be waded. This is a drawback from which the upper country rivers are free. But, still, fine sport can be had in many rivers and lakes. The Harrison River affords excellent fishing as early as April. The fish run from 1lb. to 2lb., and take the fly freely. The river flows out of Harrison Lake to the Fraser at Harrison Station. It must be fished from a boat. Bags of thirty and forty fish are by no means uncommon. There is another river, whose name has escaped my memory, which is very good when low enough for wading, and flows into the Harrison Lake. The Hot Springs Hotel affords good accommodation.

If the Fraser is crossed at Hope Station there is a little village on the other side where somewhat rough accommodation used to be obtainable. The crossing was formerly done in an Indian log canoe, a means of transport which one would hardly recommend to anyone of a nervous temperament, though perhaps now a boat may be used. A very beautiful river called the Coquehalla joins the Fraser at this place, which I used to fish in 1892. It consists of a series of fine pools and rapids for some distance, perhaps two or three miles, until an impassable canyon is reached, over which there is a natural bridge, and here, in the water below, immense trout may clearly be seen, though I know of no means of getting at them. At the time I fished this river, in July, the salmon were coming up, and I cannot say that my success was very great. I was, moreover, a stranger to the country, and could get no guide. Added to this, my tackle, experience, and skill were all of a very inferior order. But I found that the pools of this river contained very large fish, which were then to me quite unknown monsters, and I spent many long days on its banks in attempts to capture some.

I used to try each pool first with the minnow and then with the fly, which was, of course, exactly the opposite of the right course. Several good fish of 5lb. or so were landed and many lost. On one occasion, as I was hauling in a small trout to remove it from my fly, I was startled by an immense fish which leapt out of the water at it, close to my feet. It must have been a fish of anything from 10lb. to 15lb. or more. It jumped high in the air, drenching me with spray as it fell back into the water. I supposed it to be a large salmon, but as a bright red stripe was clearly seen along its side I know now that it was a rainbow trout. Twice in this river small trout were seized as they were being drawn in, but each time the single gut was snapped off by the fish. The higher parts of the river were never tried by me, though once or twice I saw large strings of trout brought in by cowboys. No doubt at this time of the year the best fishing was in the upper waters. Probably the steel-head or sea-trout comes up the Fraser as far as the Coquehalla. Another stream called Silver Creek runs into the Fraser about three miles below Hope, and I had much the same experiences along its banks. It can only be fished when low enough for wading. I should much like to try these two streams again, as I am confident that some very large fish could be caught. It would be well worth trying the effect of a prawn, fished deep. A Silver Devon ought also to be effective. Personally this is the limit of my experience in British Columbia, but very good fishing is to be got in the Coquitlam and Capillano near Vancouver, and in the Stave and Pitt Rivers, which are a little further off. In all these rivers the steel-head can be got on the minnow, seldom, I believe, on the fly.

It is hard to say how far the steel-head may run up the Fraser—probably at least as far as the Coquehalla at Hope, for up to this point there is nothing in the strength of the current to prevent it; but above, in the Fraser Canyon, the tremendous difficulties of the ascent may well stop its further progress. The steel-head has not developed the powerful tail and anal fin of the Pacific salmon, which must be a great aid to it in passing through such strong water for such immense distances. It may well be that the smaller tail of the steel-head renders it unfit for the effort. Otherwise, there would be no reason why it should not travel up the rivers as far as the salmon, just as the sea-trout does in European rivers. This is apparently not the case. The Fraser Canyon appears to be impassable to them, and they are only found in the lower tributaries of the Fraser and shorter coast rivers. The steel-head is the sea-going species of the rainbow; it is practically a silver rainbow, without the red stripe, which only appears faintly after it has been some time in fresh water. The steel-head is usually known as Salmo gairdneri, but in a recent letter Professor Jordan informs me that its correct name is Salmo rivularis ayres. He states that he has evidence to prove that the original gairdneri was the "nerka," which is the sockeye or blue-back salmon.

The smaller sizes take the fly readily under favourable circumstances, both in the salt water, at the mouths of rivers, and in the rivers themselves. The heavier fish of 7lb. and upwards are more often got on a minnow. Large ones up to 11lb. have been caught with the prawn in the basin under the falls of the Capillano. Though I am not prepared to say whether these fish were rainbow or steel-heads, the fact must be strongly insisted on that there is considerable difficulty in distinguishing between steel-head, rainbow, and the smaller salmon. In the case of the two former it is a matter of experience. The latter are easily known by the test of the anal fin and tail. Great confusion has been caused, and always will be, until proper care is taken.

The Coquitlam, Capillano, and other rivers have been much overfished by legal and probably by illegal means. The sport used to be excellent, and would soon improve again under proper conditions.

It would be an excellent thing if an anglers' club was formed in Vancouver, and part of the water preserved. If part of the water was thus properly treated, and a small hatchery put up, no doubt the fishing would soon be better than ever, while immense benefit would accrue to the remaining public water. This deplorable state of affairs is merely the natural result of the almost criminal neglect of the British Columbia Government to do anything to preserve the valuable sporting assets of the country. The Kootenay waters have suffered in the same way, as also some of the rivers near Victoria on Vancouver Island. The Dolly Varden trout is very plentiful in all these rivers. Some very fine bags of large fish have been made in the Squamish River in Butte inlet. On Vancouver Island there is good fishing, easily reached from Victoria. The Cowichan River and Lake are the best known. Steel-head and rainbow can both be got on fly and minnow. The flies used are even larger than those on the Thompson. Personally, I have never fished on Vancouver Island, but from all that I have heard I should say that sport is not so good there as on the upper mainland.



CHAPTER VII.

The Salmons of the Pacific—Legends Concerning Them—The Five Species—Systems of Migration—Powers of Endurance—Absence of Kelts—Do They Take a Fly?—Terrible Mortality—"A Vivid Red Ribbon"—Points of Difference Between the Quinnat and Salmo salar—Work of the Canneries—Artificial Propagation.

No account of the fishing in British Columbia would be complete unless some mention were made of the salmon, though it is only in tidal water that they can be caught with the rod, and though in the upper country they are useless from the fisherman's point of view. The annual migration of the Pacific coast salmon is a wonderful thing, about which little has been written, and much requires to be learnt. To those who have seen it, the phenomenon is most striking, and has vividly impressed the western imagination, which revels in weird stories concerning it. Thus it is current report that the waters of Harrison Lake have been known to rise several inches from some unknown cause, only to be accounted for by the immense rush of salmon into its waters; that paddle-steamers have been stopped in the Fraser and at sea by the salmon armies; that the backs of the fish have made stepping-stones by which the Fraser has been crossed.

These and similar stories are the folk-lore of British Columbia, and yet they are almost possible, so immense are the battalions of the salmon which swarm to the Fraser and other large rivers. It is an astonishing migration, full of interest and well worthy of study, not only to the naturalist, but to the student of social economy, as this migration is the source of an important food supply, and one of the chief industries of the country. There are fifty canneries established at the mouth of the Fraser, besides others further north, and between them they export annually millions of tins of canned salmon.

The Pacific coast salmon in British Columbia comprise five species, all belonging to the genus Oncorhynchus of the salmonidae family. They are the king salmon or quinnat, a large fish running up to over 80lb., known also as the spring salmon; the silver and blue-back salmon, which are known as the cohoe and sockeye, and are the fish used by the canners; and the humpback and dog salmon, which are of little value, and only eaten by the Indians. The first named is the most interesting for the purpose of this book, as it is the fish which affords the famous sport at Campbell River. The silver and the blue-back only run to about 10lb. The two last are pale fleshed, and are hardly considered fit to eat.

The king or tyee, quinnat, spring or chinook salmon (O. tschawytscha) is the most important from the sportsman's point of view, but owing to its occasional white or very pale pink flesh not so useful to the canner. It runs from about 15lb. to over 80lb.; fish of 50lb. are common, and some of 100lb. have been reported. It has sixteen rays in the anal fin. The back is blackish, and underneath it is not so bright a silver as the Atlantic salmon. It turns black and not red in the upper waters.

The sockeye or blue-back (O. nerka) is the chief source of the cannery supply. The anal fin is long, with fourteen rays. The back is blue and the sides of a bright silver changing to a dark green and dull crimson in the upper waters. Weight from 3lb. to 10lb. Flesh a deep red.

The cohoe, silver or fall salmon (O. kisutch) is also canned, weight 3lb. to 8lb., light green and silver in colour.

The dog salmon (O. keta), 10lb. to 12lb. in weight, fourteen rays in anal fin. It is so called from the misshapen appearance of the head and teeth of the males at spawning time. Colour of a dark silver, turning black and reddish in the upper waters.

The humpback (O. gorbuscha), the smallest of the family, 3lb. to 6lb. A hump appears just behind the head of the males at spawning time, fifteen rays in the anal fin. The flesh of these last two species is not much used.

Of these fish the spring salmon appears first in the Fraser in the early spring, and progresses steadily up the river as far as it is possible to go, apparently keeping more up the main current and avoiding the Shuswap Lake to which the Thompson leads (at least it is very little noticed in that river), whereas the sockeyes swarm up it in great numbers. It does not seem to travel in large schools in these waters. A few arrive in Kamloops Lake during July, but it is never much in evidence in the Thompson River district. It is doubtless a very powerful swimmer. Professor Jordan points out that this and the other species are remarkable for the great number of developed rays in the anal fin and tail, which must aid the fish immensely in its long journey against the strong water of the Fraser.

The progress of all these fish is made by steady travelling in the slacker water at the sides of the river. I have often watched them slowly making their way upwards in the clear water of the Thompson, one noticeable fact being that they do not rise much to the surface or ever leap into the air, like our own fish. In the lakes, and occasionally in pools of the Thompson, I have seen them roll over in the water, but never leap into the air. It seems not unreasonable to suppose that one reason for the leaping of the Atlantic salmon is because he is practising for the time when he will have to jump a difficult waterfall in the river he ascends. But in the inland lakes and rivers the Pacific salmon never leap, and, in fact, are seen but little on the surface. On the other hand the trout appear to leap quite as much as the European species. On Fish Lake the rainbows are leaping continually.

The Pacific salmon has no skill in jumping, he merely swims on continuously; indeed, he appears perfectly incapable of negotiating the smallest waterfall. I have seen thousands of Pacific salmon stopped hopelessly by a fall which would not hinder a small European sea-trout. It may be that the tremendous nature of the journey already completed has robbed him of the energy necessary for leaping, but experience would lead me to believe that the Pacific salmon trusts to immense powers of endurance, which enable him to travel thousands of miles against a frightful current rather than to a short journey and one or two big jumps.

This fact is certainly worthy of further investigation and note, in view of the introduction into British Columbia of the Atlantic salmon. There must be numbers of rivers barred to the Pacific fish which would be quite easy of access to the Atlantic. I doubt much if the quinnat could tackle an ordinary artificial salmon ladder, though there are undoubtedly numbers of streams in British Columbia which could be rendered navigable to Salmo salar by such means. A small hatchery established on such a river might at once establish the European fish in these waters.

On the other hand it is very doubtful if the present attempt to acclimatise Salmo salar by the introduction of small fry into the Fraser can avail much. Few could hope to survive and compete with the countless myriads of the sockeyes, while it is doubtful if the Atlantic fish could ever make its way for hundreds of miles against the Fraser current. It is not fitted for a slow journey of weeks and even months, but rather for one of some few hours with a strong leap at the end which lands it at once in the destined pool or lake.

There are two other points which will strike the fishermen in British Columbia waters. One is the absence of kelts at any time of the year. The other is the fact that, though the waters are often alive with young salmon, none are ever caught on the fly. The first point is explained by the fact that these fish die after spawning. There is no doubt that this is well established, though there is something to be accounted for—namely, the large specimens of each species, which must undoubtedly either be survivors of a former run or else fish which have stayed in salt water to a more advanced age. To take the example of a spring salmon of 80lb.; this fish would, in Europe, be reckoned as at least ten years old and probably a great deal more. Are we to conclude that such a fish has never been into fresh water before, or is it not more probable that he has only been in the habit of frequenting some lake at a short distance from the sea, and returning thence in time to escape death from exhaustion? The large specimens of the other species might also be accounted for in this manner.

The second point is merely a fact, and does not require any explanation, except that it may have some bearing on the matter of the adult fish not taking the fly. I would not go so far as to say that these young fish have never been known to take a fly, but I never remember catching one myself, and they certainly do not take it as the salmon parr do in our waters. It is of course possible that many may be taken and supposed to be trout. But if such were the case, it would surely be more commonly known and noticed. Very little appears to be known of the habits of the young fish or the time they spend in fresh water before they go down to the sea.

It has been a much debated question as to whether the British Columbia salmon takes the fly, and it may be stated once for all that it does do so, but only in tidal waters. In the up-country lakes and rivers it takes nothing, and those who may have seen its migrations will easily understand the reason. The fish have no time to feed or rest; they may be seen ceaselessly though slowly pressing on in the shallow water at the sides of the Fraser or Thompson, as if pressed on by the weight of those behind, impelled by some all-powerful desire to get to their journey's end, to spawn and die. None return, and the lakes and pools of the rivers are filled with corpses, on which bears, eagles, and all creatures which can eat fish are filled to the full.

There is no time to look at bait of any kind, for it is a terrible journey through the rapid waters of the Fraser, and many fish show the marks of bruises and cuts, while few are in an eatable condition by the time they reach Kamloops Lake.

This journey would seem to take them three or four weeks from the time they appear at the Fraser mouth, about 200 miles in distance. Anyone who has ever seen Hell's Gate, in the terrible canyon of the Fraser, and these millions of struggling fish slowly pushing their way upwards without a moment's rest, impelled by the vis a tergo of the swarms behind, and each one anxious only to move forward, can easily understand how impossible it would be in such a struggle for mere existence that a fish should pause to take bait. Even in our own rivers running salmon practically never take. It is only when they have reached some pool or resting-place that they will look at a lure. But when these masses of fish emerge into the large lakes, the first comers must still be remorselessly driven on by the mass of those behind until the farthest limits and some impassable barrier is reached. I have never seen the spawning-beds myself. Jordan says they spawn in 1ft. to 3ft. of water in rivers like salar, but one can readily imagine the desperate struggle for existence that must go on as the swarms reach the grounds and fight for positions; while no doubt on their outskirts are small armies of trout and other fish eager to devour the eggs as soon as they are laid. As the salmon seem to pass right up to the headquarters (cf. Jordan) they would get beyond the big trout. Probably it is here that their numbers protect them, the trout being unable to penetrate their close ranks until the eggs are laid and concealed in the gravel and death begins to be busy among the salmon. Possibly here, too, may be some protection, for doubtless the other fish prey on the dead carcases, which would be a more obvious food supply than the hidden eggs. This description of spawning-beds is mere imagination, as I have never met anyone who had seen them; but it is probably much exceeded by the reality.

A short description of what I have seen will help to realise what must take place on the spawning-beds. It must be noted that the salmon runs are in cycles. Every fourth year is a big run of sockeye, and when there is a small run of these fish there may be a big run of humpbacks or dog salmon. One year in the early nineties the Thompson presented a strange sight to travellers in the Canadian Pacific trains, though as the trains pass this part in the very early morning probably few saw it. The line here closely follows the river, and in the canyon rises to several hundred feet above it, so that a splendid view of the river is obtained. At this time, as seen from above, the deep blue water of the stream was bordered on each side by a vivid red ribbon, which when seen closer proved to be the array of sockeyes struggling up the side eddies in countless myriads. How long this lasted I cannot say, but I saw it several times on my professional journeys on the railway. It was a very wonderful sight. Every fish was about the same size, about 7lb. or 8lb., and all were deep red in colour. The time of year was about September.

In 1901 I had occasion to go from Spence's Bridge to Nicola Lake in early September; the stage-route is along the banks of the river, which at that time was very low. A run of humpbacks was going on; the pools were black with them, and the shallows between the pools presented a most remarkable appearance; the water was only a few inches deep, and between the stones the humpbacks were slowly wriggling upwards in countless thousands, only half covered by the water. When the coach was high above the river they looked like an army of tadpoles blackening the river bed, their colour being almost black with a reddish tinge at the sides. The male fish alone has the curious hump well developed in the breeding season; it is situated just behind the head and is about 3/4in. high, resembling the hump of a camel; the female has only a very small one. At an Indian village which we passed two or three Indians were standing in the water armed with long gaffs with which they hooked the fish out and threw them to the squaws on the bank, who were cleaning, splitting, and hanging them up on long fir poles to dry in the sun. A rancher living near here informed me that he took the trouble to count the number on one pole and thereby estimate their total catch. I forget his figures, but believe it was several hundred thousand—a mere flea-bite to the total number of fish in the river, which must have run into millions. The fish were unable to get into Nicola Lake owing to a dam, and on my return journey, two weeks later, there was not a living fish to be seen, the pools being filled with dead bodies, and the awful stench of the river rising to heaven.

It seemed to me a terrible waste that all these fish should die, but such is the fact, and it must be fortunate that they do not feed on their way or they would clean out a river like an army of locusts. What becomes of the trout during these invasions presents a curious problem, for the condition of the stinking river would seem sufficient to kill them unless they can escape to some lake. Possibly the trout flee upwards ahead of the serried ranks of the invaders with the view also of feeding on their eggs when they reach the spawning grounds. I have seen the bottoms of good trout pools black with salmon in certain rivers and have been told it was useless to fish them, and this fact I also verified; while other pools higher up and not yet invaded gave good fishing.

These two instances will give some idea of the extraordinary invasions by the salmon of the British Columbia rivers as it presents itself in the Thompson district.

At the coast the migration begins with the large spring salmon, the quinnat, which seem to appear off the mouth of the Fraser in January, and run up the rivers during April, May, and June before the sockeyes make their appearance, but never in such large numbers as the latter. Their migration is more like that of the Atlantic fish, which they also resemble in point of size. They are not so much used by the canneries, whose season does not begin till July, and are only caught for the local market, and by trolling with rod and line; these are the fish which chiefly provide sport in the tidal waters of British Columbia.

As has been said they run up to 80lb. and over, and resemble our own salmon in general appearance, though they are not of such a bright silver colour, and are rather more heavy looking. The most obvious point of distinction is the large size of the anal fin and tail, which contain a great many more rays than those of our own trout and salmon. This point of distinction is common to all the five species of the Pacific coast salmon, and distinguishes them from the rainbow and steel-head, which are true salmonidae. The flesh, especially in spring, is excellent eating, but possibly not quite so delicate as the Atlantic fish, and not so highly esteemed. Perhaps this is partly owing to the fact that salmon is so common and cheap, for a large fish can often be bought for a shilling or half a crown.

I have seen an occasional large fish move in the Thompson early in July, but have never noticed them in the Kamloops Lake in any large numbers, though doubtless a certain proportion does come there. It would appear as if the large size and strength of this fish enables it to run earlier in the year and to stem the rivers when swollen by the melting snow in May and June; while the smaller sockeye times its appearance to coincide with the fall of the big rivers in July. It can hardly be a fact that the quinnat never returns to the sea, for if that were invariably the case, how could the large fish of 80lb., which must be of considerable age, be accounted for? It would not be difficult for a fish to return from a large lake like the Harrison, which is only some 50 miles or so from the Fraser mouth. It may be that if these fish get far up the Fraser, perhaps 500 miles or more from salt water, they may not have strength to return. Jordan says the spring fish run over 2000 miles in some rivers. But from spawning-grounds only distant a few miles they can easily return, as could also the smaller species, unless, which seems very unlikely, the act of procreation is fatal in itself. Still, the fact remains that I have never seen a kelt in British Columbia nor heard of one, nor does there seem to be any return stream of migration in winter or early spring, a feature which could not escape notice if it occurred to any considerable extent. Therefore if any fish return it must be only a few scattered individuals, not one in a million of the swarms seen passing upwards.

The Indians along the Fraser catch these fish by standing on certain rocks with a large dip-net, by which they catch a considerable number as the fish pass upwards.

In the first week of July or thereabouts the silver and blue-back salmon appear, and the canneries at the Fraser mouth begin work. This is the sockeye run, which is always very large, but varies in different years, every fourth year being an extra large one. Drift-nets are employed by a large number of boats, which may catch in one night thirty to eighty or more fish, for which they get about 15 cents. apiece from the canneries. The season lasts till about the end of August, when the run falls off, and is succeeded by the run of the humpback and dog salmon, which are of no commercial value. Indians, white men, and Japanese are employed, and the mouth of the Fraser is a scene of great activity, while on the American side large fish traps are employed in which many thousands of salmon are caught at one haul. The following will give some idea of the work of the canneries.:—

ANNUAL PACK FOR SIX YEARS.

1897 1,027,204 cases (48lb). 1898 492,657 " " 1899 765,517 " " 1900 606,530 " " 1901 1,236,156 " " 1902 625,982 " "

The first news of the approach of the sockeye is generally brought to Vancouver or some other coast city by some sailing ship or steamer which has encountered them in the straits of San Juan or the Gulf of Georgia. Often strange stories are told of moving through a vast salmon army, perhaps seven miles broad and of unknown length, all heading straight for the Fraser's mouth, from their unknown feeding-grounds in the North Pacific. Wild as some of these tales seem, yet they are more or less true. For these immense shoals come through the San Juan Straits and head northwards up the British Columbian coast towards Alaska, while only a mere detachment enters the Fraser, a detachment of a few millions. And also if it be true that none return, they can have no leaders to show the way, but must retrace the route they took as smolts on their way from the river to the ocean, impelled by the sexual instinct to propagate the species. They appear to hang about the mouth of the Fraser for a short time, then advance upwards as far as it is possible to go, hundreds of miles into the interior, and up every stream which will permit of their progress, where they eventually spawn and die.

The silver salmon and blue-backs run in separate shoals, and their respective names show the difference between them. Very handsome fish are they in spring, of a bright silver hue resembling a fresh run grilse, and about seven or eight pounds in weight. But they quickly become red, and in the upper waters of the rivers often present a far from healthy appearance, showing visible traces of their struggles with the rocks and whirlpools encountered in their ascent. This well-known red appearance is not, however, altogether due to the effects of the fresh water, for straggling late bands are described as entering through the Straits of San Juan in the autumn which are almost as red as their earlier fellows at that time in the upper waters of the Fraser.

On the heels of the sockeye come the humpback and the dog salmon, about the same in size, and fine silvery fish before the breeding season sets in. But it is late in the autumn when they arrive, and their flesh is white and does not meet the demands of the market. The so-called hump is only present in the breeding season.

An attempt was made to can and sell them as white salmon, but without success; though recently a market has been found in Japan, whither they are sent in the dried form. Japan, by the way, possesses a sixth species of Oncorhynchus, the masu, a fish resembling the humpback, but this is not known to British Columbian waters.

Although an immense toll is taken by the canneries, yet the supply of fish still continues, assisted by the hatcheries which have been supplied by the Government of Canada, by whose aid it is hoped that the effects of over-fishing will be counteracted. For this hope there is considerable ground, as the fishing on the Columbia River has been restored by this means to something of its former condition.



CHAPTER VIII.

The Diplomat and the Salmon—The Struggle for Existence—Salmon and Steel-head Liable to be Confused—Sport in Tidal Waters—The Campbell River—The Pioneers—A River of Fifty-Pounders—Smaller Salmon on the Fly—Method of Fishing—Tackle—Typical Good Bags—The Steel-head—Cost of Fishing—Dangers of Over-Fishing for Canneries—A Good Trolling Time.

Though much more might be written about the canning industry and the migration of the salmon, it is not material to the purpose of this book, and has only been touched on to show how it bears on the question of salmon fishing by rod and line; for it is often stated that the salmon does not take the fly in British Columbia, as if it were a personal matter and some perverse characteristic of the fish. There is another story very popular in the west, relating what happened at the time when the great fur companies held the country and were disputing and even fighting for its possession. The Imperial Government sent out some illustrious diplomat to report on the situation, and he described the country as of no value and so hopeless that "even the salmon would not take the fly." It is a tradition in British Columbia that on this ground the now flourishing States of Idaho, Montana, Washington, and Oregon were handed over to the Americans. The description given of the conditions under which the salmon migrate is intended to show reasons why the fish are unable to oblige the angler in this matter of taking the fly. These conditions are obvious. The desperate struggle for existence in an immense shoal of fish pressing upwards against the tremendous current of a river abounding in strong rapids and whirlpools; the length of the journey, several hundred miles in extent; the absence of any chance of resting owing to the pressure of the multitudes behind; and, finally, the state of exhaustion brought on by all these forces combined—these things must, and indeed do, reduce the fish to such a condition that its final energies are devoted to and exhausted by the propagation of its species. Even if enough vitality were left to make it take a bait, no sport would be obtained by the angler, and his sorry capture would be generally unfit for food.

I have once or twice experimented by foul-hooking salmon in the tail in the Nicola River, but after one feeble rush the fish was easily hauled ashore even by light trout tackle, and returned to the water as entirely useless to anyone except an Indian.

There is only one final conclusion to be drawn, that in the upper waters of the rivers and the inland lakes the salmon do not take the fly or any other bait, nor is there any case in which it has been even alleged that a salmon has ever been caught on the fly. Occasionally large silvery fish have been caught on spoon and minnow, but, in the absence of proof to the contrary, it is most probable that these fish are either large silver trout, rainbow, or steel-heads. Absolute proof of the capture of a salmon is still wanting, though it is quite possible that such a thing has occasionally taken place.

The question of salmon taking the fly in the tidal waters is another matter, for there is not the least doubt that all the five different species have been taken in this manner; though possibly not so often as is stated, because the steel-head is a source of error, from its resemblance to the salmon. A fish of 15lb. is taken on the fly and the capture of a salmon is announced, on the strength of its weight and size; whereas, on inquiry, it is found that the fisherman is certain that it was a salmon, but can produce no evidence to prove that it was not a steel-head. It is not everyone who can tell the difference between a salmon and a steel-head on its mere appearance without counting the rays on the anal fin or tail, and until this simple proof is put to the test there will always be a doubt as to the frequency with which the salmon is taken on the fly.

The size of the anal fin is so obvious a distinction of the Pacific salmon that I have often observed it in numbers of small fry caught for bait; the fin in a small fish two or three inches long resembles the wavy fan-like fins seen in the Japanese gold fish, and distinguishes it at a glance from the corresponding short fin of the young rainbow. A curious error of this kind occurs in Mr. Rudyard Kipling's well-known book, "From Sea to Sea," where he describes most enthusiastically a day's salmon fishing in California on the Sacramento, and his capture of numerous salmon on the fly. There is no doubt that his fish were steel-heads.

There is enough evidence from various sources to show that the salmon take the fly in tidal waters, but it cannot be said that there is much to show that they do so very freely, especially in the case of the large quinnat salmon. But, on the other hand, the spoon bait is taken most greedily by all the different species. It may be that the fly has not been tried as much as it might have been, owing to the success of the spoon. The result is that at present trolling in these waters with this bait is the chief means employed, and has afforded sport unrivalled of its kind by any other part of the world.

Very fair sport can be got in the Narrows near Vancouver or in the sea off Esquimalt or Oak Bay near Victoria. But the place which has of late years been distinguished by the most extraordinary salmon fishing ever heard of is the mouth of the Campbell River on the east coast of Vancouver Island. In the places first named, as also at the mouths of several well-known rivers, salmon and steel-heads may be caught by trolling and spinning, and occasionally with the fly. Thus seven or eight fish are no unusual bag in the waters near Victoria, but they are not usually of any very great size. The mouth of Campbell River appears to be the only place yet known where the big salmon can be caught in any large number, though it is quite possible that other places exist.

This river has long been a fishing ground for the Indians, who trolled for the fish with a strong hand-line and spoon. The pioneers of this fishing among white men were Mr. G.P. FitzGerald and Sir Richard Musgrave, who made an expedition to these waters in the early nineties and camped at the mouth of Campbell River, also trying Salmon River and other places along the coast. They met with great success in the tidal waters off Campbell River, but practically drew a blank wherever else they tried. It was on this occasion that Sir R. Musgrave landed a 70lb. salmon, which holds the record in these waters. Since then an increasing number of fishermen have visited Campbell River, until of late years there have always been a few rods on the ground; and a small hotel has been put up. There is, however, not much fear of over-fishing, though the time is past when a fisherman could have the whole of the water to himself.

There are sinister rumours of a cannery and fish traps to be established in the near future, and should these things come to pass then the fishing which has been enjoyed will become a mere memory and perhaps these pages its only record.

Mr. FitzGerald always enjoyed his best sport under the guidance of an Indian and by employing the Indians' spoon, which is a plain silver spoon with a loose hook. The main aim was always the large 50lb. fish, smaller fish of 25lb. or so being regarded as a nuisance, and if possible shaken off the hook. The biggest catch was eight fish six of which were about 50lb. apiece; anyone familiar with salmon fishing will know that this is no small feat after allowing for fish hooked and lost, while it must be remembered that a fish of 50lb. may take over an hour to land. Sir Richard Musgrave's large fish of 70lb. took an hour and a half to land; it was a magnificent fish, the record salmon of the rod and line. A cast of it was shown at Farlow's, in the Strand, and also at Rowland Ward's, in Piccadilly, during the spring of 1897. The spoon fishing of the Namsen and other Norwegian rivers fades into insignificance beside such sport; two or more fish of over 50lb. were the average catch, besides more that were hooked and lost, while the numerous smaller fish were not considered worthy of notice.

Mr. A. Duncan reports excellent success with the prawn, which he was the first to use, and it may be that with this deadly bait even larger fish might be obtained. He also reports that with a silver-bodied fly in the evening, but at no other time, he caught large numbers of salmon about 7lb. in weight, and could have filled a boat with them. He gives no absolute proof as to whether these fish were salmon or steel-heads, but it is his opinion that they were salmon.

The fishing is done by crossing and re-crossing the small bay into which Campbell River flows, trolling from a canoe or small boat, the breadth of the water being about half a mile; the method is exactly like trolling in a Norwegian fiord just off the mouth of a river. It is a curious fact that no sport can be obtained in the river itself, which fully supports the contention put forth above that the Pacific coast salmon ceases to take as soon as it begins to run, the taking fish being those which are hanging about the mouth of the river preparatory to running up. There seems to be no instance of the very large fish taking the fly.

There is no need to say much as to tackle, except that it should be strong and that there should be plenty of line. The native spoon can be obtained on the spot. Some fishermen prefer a large rod as better able to hold off a fish which runs under the boat; I should personally prefer a short, stiff, steel-centred rod such as Hardy's 12ft. Murdoch—a type of rod preferred by the Americans for yellow tail and tuna fishing. This kind of rod is much handier in a boat, and almost unbreakable.

The following is a list showing some of the bags at Campbell River.

Mr. A. Duncan in 1904. Tyee salmon, eighteen; weight, 810lb. Average, 45lb. Cohoes and tyee under 30lb., thirty-two. Total, fifty fish in eighteen days. Best day August 9th, 1904: Seven salmon, 56lb., 53lb., 52lb., 16lb., 12lb., 7-1/2lb., and 4lb. The eight heaviest fish: 50-3/4lb., 56lb., 53lb., 52lb., 52lb., 50lb., 48-1/2lb., and 48lb.

Mr. Duncan says:

Fish under 30lb. are counted as grilse. The cohoe salmon will take a fly; white with silver tinsel, I found best. They take in the sea at sunrise and sunset when they are jumping—in fact, more could be got in this way while they are actually jumping than by trolling, only they must be jumping and also fairly plentiful. I have got an odd one casting, but nearly all by trailing the fly. They give splendid sport on a light trout rod. The largest I got last year (1903) was 12lb. But they were not "running" this year, and I only got two of 7lb. each on the fly. Salmon are caught in Cowichan Lake (after ascending 30 miles of river); frequently I got one myself and saw others caught, though they are black and ugly. But I am told on absolutely reliable authority that great sport is had with tyee salmon (from 30lb. downwards) on the fly in the Cowichan River in the spring, and then only when the water is discoloured. They only take the fly sunk, and generally a leaded one is used.

It is noteworthy that this peculiarity of only taking the fly when jumping is also common to the trout in the Shuswap and other large lakes in the interior. Also their favourable time is at sunrise and sunset. It might also be noted that Mr. Duncan makes no mention of the steel-head or sea-trout. This fish runs in the Cowichan River and Lake in the spring. The test of the number of rays in the anal fin and tail should be applied to all these fish.

The sockeye does not appear to frequent Campbell River. The tyee and cohoe frequent the coastal waters of British Columbia. But the feeding ground of the sockeyes is some unknown part of the Pacific Ocean from which they migrate and enter the waters between the mainland of British Columbia and Vancouver Island in great shoals, through the Straits of San Juan. Even then their stomachs are empty and contracted, showing that they have already travelled some distance. Mr. Babcock, the Fisheries Commissioner of British Columbia, states in his report for 1903: "The first fish are reported from Otter Point. From Sherringham Point east their movement is clearly defined as they pass close in shore. They come in rapidly with the flood tides, at times close to the surface and breakwater; frequently during the last weeks of July and the first two weeks in August, in years of large runs, they show themselves plainly, a racing, leaping, bluish silver mass in the clear and rapid moving waters." Then they appear to strike the discoloured water of the Fraser, and follow it to the mouth of the river. In 1903, 2,948,333 sockeyes were delivered to the canners during the last two weeks of July and the month of August.

The steel-head trout (Salmo gairdneri) is the anadromous form of the rainbow, bearing the same relation to it as our sea-trout does to the brown trout. It more closely resembles in form, colour of flesh, and habit the Atlantic salmon than any other form found on the Pacific coast. It spawns in fresh waters, and survives after spawning and returns to the sea. It feeds in fresh and salt water. How far it penetrates into the interior and up the Fraser is a matter of doubt. My own opinion is that it only goes as far as Hope, being unable to face the strong water in the Fraser Canyon, owing probably to the fact that it is not equipped with the powerful anal fin and tail of the Pacific salmon. It enters all waters near the coast, and is caught on the rod in the Stave and Pitt Rivers. I have never heard of one being caught on the Thompson. Trout fishermen in the coast rivers catch them with both fly and minnow.

The following details of catches are quoted from an article which appeared in The Field in December, 1905, from the pen of Mr. L. Layard. In 1904 twenty-four tyee weighing 1,004lb., average 41-1/2lb.; forty-three cohoes weighing 297lb., average 7-1/2lb. Best fish 49lb., 49lb., 50lb., 51lb., 53lb., 53lb., 55lb., and 56lb. He also states that he saw two fish of 60lb., landed. In 1905, for July and August, fishing for thirty-eight days: six hundred and eighty-eight salmon weighing 5,254lb. Best fish, 50lb. Best catches, thirty-six fish (275lb.) in five hours, forty-four fish (330lb.) in six hours.

A Mr. J. Pidcock, fishing for his cannery from 3 a.m. to 9 p.m., in a dug-out, using two hand lines, caught 706 salmon. Mr. Layard speaks very well of the new hotel, and of a Mr. J. Thompson as boatman. He quotes the hotel charges as L2 a week and 2s. a day for a fine sea boat, and 12s. a day as wages for a boatman.

He gives some interesting particulars of Campbell River itself, to which a trail is to be cut from the hotel. There seems to be good rainbow trout fishing for two miles in the river. The salmon are stopped by a waterfall, where there is a large pool 30 feet deep, in which tyee salmon, with humpback, cohoes, and trout, could be clearly seen. Mr. Layard could not induce them to touch anything from the bank, but a tyee of 18lb. was hooked on a spoon and lost two days afterwards by another man from a canoe. The Indians stated that such a thing as hooking a salmon in the river had never been heard of in their traditions. No mention is made of the steel-head, and there is no proof given that the above was not one of these fish. Mr. Layard was not equipped for fly-fishing, but believes that the cohoes would have taken the fly.

An examination of these catches shows beyond dispute that there has never been such salmon fishing as this in any other waters, and fortunate indeed were those who first enjoyed it. Even yet the sport is there, as Mr. Layard shows, and perhaps may still go on for many years yet. In spite of adverse prophecies, possibly the cannery and fish traps may never be built, for the quinnat is mostly useful to the angler. Unfortunately nothing can be done to save this splendid piece of fishing unless all the land and foreshore rights were bought up by some philanthropist in the interests of sport, which is hardly within the bounds of possibility; whereas if an offer for these rights is made to the Government, for the purposes of fish-trap and cannery, a refusal is impossible. Let us hope and even pray that no cannery is ever built, and even if it is that it may soon be abandoned, for though I am myself a fly-fisherman and think that trolling is only a poor imitation of the real thing, yet in this place the great size and number of the fish make up for other deficiencies, fulfilling the desires of the most ardent salmon fisherman, and surely satisfying his wildest dreams.

The fishing at Campbell River can be enjoyed from June to September, and steamers call there about twice a month on their way from Victoria to the north; formerly it was necessary to take a tent and provisions and camp out, but now accommodation can be got at the hotel. July and August are the best months.

The best rod for Campbell River, as I have said, would be an 11ft. or 12ft. rod of the pattern of Hardy's Murdoch, a steel-centred split cane; the reel should carry at least 80yds. of line and 100yds. of strong backing; it would be well to carry a spare line. Traces and casts should be taken, but spoons could be got better on the spot or in Victoria. Tackle for fly-fishing might well be taken also.

The Americans use at Catalina for tuna fishing a line called cuttyhunk line; it is very thin, light, and of tremendous strength. It is called "twenty-four strand" line; the strongest man could not break it with his hands, and yet it is not as thick as a salmon casting line. It makes splendid backing for a casting line, and as a trolling line it is absolutely unequalled. The size which will make good backing for a trout line is nine strand, and is very hard to break with the hands. Twenty-four strand is unbreakable; it only succumbs to the mighty tuna when the whole line is run out. Another advantage is that it is absurdly cheap, a 1,000 yard tuna line only costing L1. Three or four hundred yards would go on an ordinary salmon reel and would form a splendid trolling line. If I remember rightly, they use twelve strand line for yellow tail fishing at Catalina, and consider it quite strong enough. The yellow tail is a mackerel running from 25lb. to 60lb., and is believed to be stronger and fiercer for its size than the tuna. The cuttyhunk line is, however, absolutely useless for anything except trolling; it is far too light for casting a fly or even for throwing a minnow or any other kind of bait. It must also be well waxed with a piece of ordinary yellow beeswax to prevent it rotting, because it has no kind of dressing or protection from the effects of water. It would need waxing at least twice a week. I have never seen this line except in California, though it can probably be obtained anywhere in the United States. In my opinion it is far superior in strength to any of our English lines for trolling, while the price of a sufficient length for ordinary purposes would be about half a crown.

It is more than probable that other rivers will become known before long where the fishing may rival that of Campbell River. The sea coast of British Columbia stretches far to the north, and most of it is absolutely unknown to the fisherman, while even further north still there are canneries on the coast of Alaska. I have seen salmon in Dawson City which looked quite fresh run and had been netted in the Yukon; also grayling which had been caught on the fly in the Klondike River. If ever the present known rivers of British Columbia are fished out, there is surely an inexhaustible supply further north. There can be no question but that the Grand Trunk Pacific will in a few years open up a new country of lakes and rivers, in which the sport should be at least as good as those already known.

The fishing at Campbell River is apparently not confined to the mouth of the river—at least in good seasons—as Mr. Layard speaks of fishing up and down both sides of the strait from Seymour Narrows to Cape Mudge lighthouse, a distance of 12 miles. A grant from the Government has been made for a pier to be built at Campbell River, enabling all steamers to call there, which will render it more easy of access.



CHAPTER IX.

Recapitulation of Salmon and Trout Problems—Importance of Preserving British Columbian Fisheries—Possibility of Introducing Atlantic Salmon—Question of Altering Present Close Season for Trout—Past and Present Neglect of Trout Fisheries—Need for Governmental Action—Difficulties in the Way of It—Conclusion.

It will be very evident to those who have read the foregoing chapters that there is a great deal to be learnt about the fish that inhabit the British Columbian waters, and that several interesting problems require solving. These facts should render the greater interest to the fishing. The salmon perhaps present the most difficult questions, for their life-history is evidently almost unknown. Their eggs germinate in the hatcheries, and the fry are turned out into the lakes, but from that moment to the time they return from the sea their movements are unknown. It is not known at what age they seek the salt water, nor at what age they return; while in the case of the sockeye their feeding grounds in the Pacific are an unsolved mystery.

The most interesting trout problem is the identity of the silver trout of the Kamloops and the Okanagan Lakes, whether it is a distinct and new species, or merely a variety of the rainbow.

The identity and life-history of the small silvery fish which runs from the Nicola, Anderson, and other large lakes into the small streams ought to be a matter of some interest. This fish has been alluded to as a miniature sockeye. It certainly presents the curious phenomenon of a sockeye run in miniature from the deep waters of the lake into the small streams, where it also turns red and spawns. It does not seem to be known whether it also dies after spawning. It certainly takes no bait of any kind.

In concluding this most imperfect attempt to give some slight idea of the fishing in these waters, it is certainly not out of place to allude to the immense importance and necessity of preserving the fishing for the future. It is but lately that the British Columbian Government seems to have awakened to the great importance of its fisheries, and even yet it seems but little to appreciate the actual value and even more perhaps the potential value of its inland waters from a sporting point of view. It is almost superfluous to point out, in illustration, the value of the sporting rights of the rivers of Norway and Scotland and their large annual rental.

The value of the British Columbian rivers in this respect is at present only small, serving merely as an attraction to a few visiting anglers from England and the States, and a fishing ground for the residents of the country. But even so they form one of the chief attractions of the country, and will undoubtedly become more important, while their potential value if the Atlantic salmon could be introduced is hard to estimate. The evidence brought forward tends to show that the Pacific fish is fitted for long journeys entailing more endurance and greater swimming powers than the Atlantic fish possesses, but that the latter can leap small waterfalls which are impassable barriers to the former. One fish is a long distance runner, the other is a hurdle racer.

This fact is fully worthy of further investigation and thought. It might lead to important results. By introducing small hatcheries which would only cost a few pounds on suitable streams, the Atlantic fish might be introduced in a few years. Salmon ladders might be placed round falls which this fish could easily surmount, though they would be impossible to the Pacific species, and by this means numerous useless streams could be turned into valuable salmon rivers. From the lease or sale of such rivers the Government would reap a handsome reward. The Atlantic fish would probably have no difficulty in holding its own in the sea; for the shoals of herring and oolachan would afford an ample food supply.

Large silvery fish have been caught, as has been said in a former chapter, in a certain part of the Shuswap Lake by surface trolling, whose exact identity is not well established, though they are probably silver trout. Also many silvery fish have been caught lately on the minnow at the mouth of the Nicola River where it joins the Thompson at Spence's Bridge. These fish have been alleged to be salmon, though no proof has been given that they are such. They have always been caught late in the autumn, at which time all salmon would be red and out of condition. These fish might be steel-heads, but it is far more probable that they are silver trout, collecting at the mouth of the Nicola preparatory to running up it for spawning purposes.

It is quite certain that very large rainbow and silver trout inhabit the deep pools of the Thompson, but as yet no one appears to have captured any of very large size on the rod. Possibly if the pools were tried later in the fall, when the river has become low, by deep fishing with live or dead bait, or the prawn, some very large fish might be landed. The best time to attempt this fishing would be after the present close season on October 16th or very early in the spring as soon as the ice has gone. It is thought by the local anglers that the present close season might well be extended for another month or so, to the middle of November. For in October the rainbow are in splendid condition and show no signs of spawning. Conversely, the spring season might be delayed, as many stale fish can be seen in May and even in July. It is quite certain that the rainbow spawns very late in the year, and further inquiry into this question is needed.

It is unfortunate that trout have had little but nominal protection in British Columbia. Their best protection has hitherto been natural conditions and the social condition of the country—many fish and few fishermen. For in a new and sparsely settled country there is no wealthy leisured class who have much time to devote to fishing. Also many rivers and lakes have been difficult of access. But these conditions cannot last; they have changed much in the last ten years and are now changing still more, in some districts not without more or less disastrous results. Vancouver City has now grown to be a large place with some forty thousand people, and the fine fishing of the Coquitlam and Capilano is almost a thing of the past. The Kootenay mining district has been opened by railways, and the once phenomenal fishing at Slocan Falls and round Nelson has immensely fallen off; report says that here it has been ruined by market fishing or worse, and in other parts of the province saw mills have been allowed to dispose of their waste in the rivers, and dynamite has been used for other purposes than mining. And though the white man is liable to be occasionally pulled up by the law, the Indian is apparently allowed to use spear, net, and salmon roe without any interference.

The same remarks apply generally in the same way to the protection of large or small game. The Nemesis which has fallen on many of the States of the Union will undoubtedly overtake British Columbia unless the Government fully rouses itself to the urgency of the matter before it is too late and before these invaluable assets of the province have passed away for ever. Many States of the Union have enacted too late the most stringent game laws, and have spent vast sums in vain attempts to restore what British Columbia still possesses and which could be so easily retained at but a trivial expense and by the exercise of a little foresight and trouble.

For some years small societies for the protection of game and fish have existed in Vancouver, Victoria, and Kamloops, and, with most praise-worthy perseverance in a good cause, have attempted to rouse public opinion and stimulate the Government to take action. And it would appear that at last their pertinacity has met with some measure of reward, for the Government has appointed a head game-warden for the whole province and local wardens for different districts. This method of game preservation has been employed for many years in the older parts of Canada and is in vogue in California, Montana, and probably all the States. If properly carried out it should be of great benefit to British Columbia.

In the past, unfortunately, whenever the question of game protection was brought up in the Provincial Parliament, the ridiculous cry of "class legislation" was always heard, generally raised by some labour member. It should be quite clear to anyone that an efficient game law and efficient provision for carrying it out will preserve sport for everyone equally. The poor man is just as fond of fishing as the rich, when he can get it; and the sacred fire burns as brightly in both peer and peasant. But the rich man can buy a river or a tract of land and preserve it for himself; and this he can do just as easily, and far more cheaply, in British Columbia than in Norway and Scotland. Therefore the best way is to preserve the game and the fish, so that there may be sport for all, rich and poor alike. As they say in California, "preserve it for the people and by the people." For unless this is done and proved effectual, the time will soon come when the wealthier people will form clubs for both shooting and fishing, and private game preservation will close gradually the free waters of the province.

There have been other obstacles to proper protection. A most mischievous and, I am firmly convinced, most false argument on the part of the salmon canners has often been alleged as a strong reason why no protection should be given to trout and why the law of the province should be disregarded. The canners state that the trout are the salmon's worst enemies, destroying both eggs and young. There is, of course, no question as to the truth of this accusation. But the reasoning deduced from it is wrong. It is quite impossible to destroy all the trout in the British Columbia waters; and if it were not, no possible advantage would be gained by so doing, because, by the inexorable laws of the survival of the fittest and of supply and demand, the position of the trout would be occupied by other fish which prey on the eggs and young of the salmon. The decrease of trout would be supplied by an increase in the numbers of the squaw fish and various species of char which are just as bad enemies of the salmon.

Both the Federal and Provincial Governments are afraid to prevent the Indians from taking fish or game in or out of season or to interfere in any way with their usual methods of procuring them for food. The Federal Government is the worst offender, because it erroneously believes that if the Indians were in any way curtailed in their food supply, the Government might have to supplement the want by rations, and thus be put to great trouble and expense. It is as well to note that the Indians are under control of the Federal Government. On the other hand the Indians are amenable to the laws of the Province, except under certain conditions on their own reserves, which in British Columbia are very small, generally merely a few acres. The Provincial Government is, however, naturally unwilling to act in opposition to the wishes of the Federal power.

This attitude of the Federal Government is based on ignorance of the actual conditions in British Columbia. The Indians of the province are self-supporting and very good workers, having long ceased to depend on hunting and fishing for their livelihood. They differ most essentially from the Blackfeet and Crees of the plains. The British Columbian Indian is quite capable of understanding the fact that it is inadvisable to kill game or fish during the breeding season. Except, perhaps, in the most remote parts of the province, he should be promptly taught that he is just as much liable to penalties under the Game Act as the white man. It would take a very short time to enforce the lesson, and until it is done no Game Act will ever be really efficient, because the white man will never respect and keep a law which is not enforced on Indian and white alike.

This small volume is merely intended to give some idea of the fishing in British Columbian waters, from facts gathered in twelve years' experience of the province. It probably contains errors of commission, perhaps, as well as of omission, and makes no claim to be authoritative in scientific detail. But at least it contains some of that strange fish lore which can be only gained on the river bank and by intercourse with others of the same craft. It fairly represents what is at present known among the fishermen of the province, with almost all of whom I am personally acquainted. It is my sincere hope that someone better qualified will, in the near future, deal more ably with the subject.

The ordinary Englishman often appears to be under a strange delusion that British Columbia is situated in a part of the world which he vaguely alludes to as South America, and it is somewhat curious that the country is not better known, for it is a glorious land of great mountains, forests, streams, and rolling hill, in which game and fish are very plentiful, with a climate and conditions of life peculiarly suited to Englishmen, especially those who have the instinct of sport. An attempt has here been made to describe the fishing; but there is also fine big game shooting, for the interior fastnesses of Vancouver Island are the home of thousands of that finest of the deer tribe, the wapiti; in the northern forests and the mountains moose, sheep, goat, and bear are numerous; everywhere the large mule deer is common; ducks and geese abound in the waters.

The soil of the valley is very fertile; gold, silver, copper, lead, iron, and coal are among the natural products; there is an inexhaustible supply of the finest timber in the world.

Surely British Columbia is a splendid jewel—still rough-hewn and uncut, it may be, but one which will yet shine forth as one of the brightest stars in the Imperial diadem.



CHAPTER X.

TUNA FISHING AT AVALON, SANTA CATALINA ISLAND.

I go To the island-valley of Avilion; Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies Deep meadow'd, happy, fair with orchard-lawns And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea.

The Passing of Arthur.

The lines placed at the head of this chapter are in many ways not inappropriate to Santa Catalina Island, with its little village of Avalon, though meadows and lawns are somewhat conspicuous by their absence.

For there can be little doubt that the name is connected with the Arthurian legend, and must have been brought to this far-off land by the early Spanish monks 200 years ago. No doubt the peaceful silence of the island and the deep blue of the summer sea reminded one of them of some island in distant Spain, where the great king is still sleeping. To quote "Fiona McLeod":—

This tradition is found among every European people. Where is Joyeuse Gard? Some say it is in the isle of Avillion off the Breton shores; some say it is in Avalon, under the sacred hill of Glastonbury.

Arthur himself has a sleeping place (for nowhere is he dead, but sleeps, awaiting a trumpet call) in "a lost land," in Provence, in Spain, under the waters of the Rhine.

The Californians have fortunately retained many of their beautiful Spanish names, instead of changing them into Anglo-Saxon vulgarisms. It is surely far better for a town to be called Los Angeles, Pasadena, or San Francisco, than Southville or Jacksonville. Coronado beach and El Plaza del Rey, the playground of the king, are ideal names for a watering-place.

The island of Catalina lies 24 miles off the coast of California opposite Los Angelos. About 30 miles long, and situated so as to act as a barrier against the Pacific swell and the prevailing winds, it forms, with the opposite coast, a kind of large bay or sheltered piece of water, which is always smooth. It is only very occasionally in the winter that a nor'-wester blows into it. It is for this reason, and this alone, that Catalina is the only place suitable for tuna fishing, though there are other islands which this fish frequents.

The island was bought by an Englishman named Banning for a sheep ranche, and has been turned into a summer resort by his two sons; being owned by Banning Brothers and Co., who claim sovereign rights over the whole island, and have hitherto upheld them in spite of several legal battles with the United States. No boat can land without their permission, and the United States post-office is built below high-water mark. There is wireless communication with the mainland, and a boat arrives every day. There is a very good hotel, and the climate is most equable, neither cold in winter nor hot in summer, being quite free from the sudden changes so prevalent in other parts of California. Early in April I noted the thermometer to be 64 deg. at mid-day and 63 deg. at midnight.

I found Catalina to be the pleasantest winter resort in California, much quieter than the others, while there is always some fishing, even though the tuna do not arrive till summer. Unfortunately, the tourists and the tuna arrive about the same time, the latter usually appearing in June and the former coming in July and August. Arrangements are made by which the little town of Avalon is turned into a "tent city," in which some ten thousand people are accommodated in tents. This naturally makes the island for two months a very different place from what it is for the rest of the year. Several steamers arrive and depart daily loaded with excursionists.

The fisherman who intends to try for tuna will have to put up with inconveniences of this kind, but if he arrives early he can employ himself while he is waiting for the tuna to arrive, by trying for yellow-tail, albicore, bonito, and barracouta. The first three are all species of mackerel. The last named can often be caught in large quantities, but gives little sport. All are got by trolling a small herring.

The yellow-tail is well spoken of by the tuna fishermen as being for its size even stronger than the tuna. It is fished for with a lighter rod and 12-ply line. I shall give a description of tuna tackle later; the tackle used for yellow-tail resembles it in general character, but is much lighter. The fish is a handsome mackerel of a dull silvery colour, tinged with yellow, which becomes more marked towards the tail. I saw several landed of about 25lb., but did not get one myself. The largest on record is 56lb.; from 40lb. to 50lb. is not an uncommon weight.

The albicore is another mackerel, blue above, and silver below, with a curious long pectoral fin on each side, about a foot in length. The fish are found in shoals and can be got in large numbers when the angler can find one of the shoals. I believe it is usual to attract the shoal by throwing small herring astern, and when this is done a fish can be hooked at almost every throw. Those I saw landed were about 25lb.

The bonito is like a large horse mackerel, and is fished for in the same manner as the albicore.

There are many other fish that can be got by fishing deep with a bait, notably the black sea-bass, which is caught up to 400lb. There is little sport to be got out of it, except what is afforded by hauling in a fish of such immense weight. All these fish are good to eat.

In my experience, better sport with all these fish can be obtained at Coronado beach than at Catalina Island, but tuna cannot be caught there, though they are known to frequent the Coronado Islands. These islands are too much exposed for the use of the small tuna launches. There are about 7,000 wild goats on the island, and leave can be got from the Bannings to shoot them, but it is not a very high form of big game shooting. They are the descendants of some tame goats which were turned out by the Spaniards for the benefit of shipwrecked sailors, though it is not known exactly how the sailors were going to catch them. However, some amusement might be got in this way till the tuna arrive. There is also a nine-hole golf course.

The launches used for this fishing are very light, built for two or three men, and fitted with gasoline engines. The best are pointed at bow and stern, so as to go equally well in either direction. There are a few private ones, and some of the public ones are retained by fishermen so as to be ready when the tuna may appear. It might be well for any fisherman to see that a launch is available if the fish should suddenly arrive. Though the tarpon and tarpon fishing are fairly well known, very little seems to be known in England about the tuna, and though I cannot speak from personal experience, it would seem that the sport afforded by the tuna is certainly equal to, if it does not far surpass, that given by the tarpon, in the size, strength, and fighting qualities of the fish. All the information here given was collected during a visit to Catalina, during which period the tuna, unfortunately, did not put in an appearance.

Tuna fishing is of only very recent date, for though the fish was caught by bait on strong hand-lines by local fishermen, it was only in 1896 that the first tuna was caught on a rod and line, and since that time the numbers caught have not been very many. But little seems to have appeared in the English sporting papers and magazines about the tuna. And it would appear to me that anyone who reads the accounts given here will be obliged to admit that this fish must afford the greatest and most exciting sport that can be enjoyed by the bait fisherman. It is a most formidable antagonist and one whose capture may be looked on with just pride.

Even the number of those who have landed a tuna is very small; and very few Englishmen are members of the Tuna Club. The tuna fishing at Catalina is carried on under the auspices of the Tuna Club, an American institution which has an excellent object, namely, to protect the tuna and to see that as far as possible its capture is effected in a sportsmanlike way. For anyone can, of course, capture a tuna with a wire rope, and haul him in by main force; but to capture a tuna under the rules of the Tuna Club is a different matter.

According to these rules, the rod must be not less than six feet nine inches long, and must not weigh more than sixteen ounces; the line must be not more than twenty-four strands cuttyhunk; and the fisherman must land his fish with unbroken rod and tackle, and without any aid, except that of his boatman as gaffer; and the said fish must weigh 100lb. or over. On achieving this feat in the prescribed manner the angler is eligible as a member of the Tuna Club, and his fish is entered in the books.

Englishmen might naturally object to any arbitrary rules as to the way in which they conduct their sport, but the Tuna Club makes no arbitrary claim. Any one may fish how or where he pleases, and need not aspire to membership unless he wishes to. The aim and object of the club is simply to set up a standard, and, by a kind of moral influence, inculcate sportsmanlike methods in the capture of the fish, in circumstances, where, by the nature of the case, no forcible means of protecting the fish are available. With such an object no real sportsman should quarrel.

The tuna is an immense mackerel, and its general build and shape show capacity for great speed and strength. The largest caught in the annals of the Tuna Club is 251lb., but far larger fish have been hooked and lost. Fish over 1000lb. have been captured by other means, while it is probable that the weight may in some cases run up to nearly 2000lb. The tuna is gregarious and visits Catalina from June to September in large shoals, when the flying fish, which seem to be its favourite food, also appear. In the winter it probably goes south along the coast of Mexico. A shoal is sometimes seen quite early in February or March, but as a rule they do not appear till the middle of May at the earliest, and, even when they do appear at this time, they do not stay long.

The rod and tackle are very important. The American tuna rod is an excellent piece of workmanship. It is made in two pieces, the tip and the butt. The tip, according to the rules of the Tuna Club, must not be less than 6ft. long, and fits into the butt just above the reel. It is made of split cane, but with no steel centre, and is very strong and stiff, bending a little only to the very strongest pull. The butt is built very stoutly, and there is no regulation as to its length, but it is usually about a foot and a-half long, and in fishing is allowed to rest in a hole under the fisherman's seat, so that the rod is controlled with the left hand alone, leaving the right free. The advantage of such a stiff rod lies in the fact that a very strong strain can be put on the fish. It could easily be tested, and I should imagine that a strain of ten pounds could be maintained, increased to considerably more in the case of a tired fish. With a salmon rod a strain of about three pounds is the utmost that can be maintained. The cost of such a rod is some L3, or $15, and it can be bought in New York, or in Catalina Island, or Los Angeles.

The reel is also very important, and also costs 15 dollars, for it must hold 1000 yards of line. The winder is of the winch form with two handles, for tuna fishermen maintain that they must have this form to enable them to reel in with sufficient force, thus getting some command over the line. The cylindrical knob of our salmon reel is universally condemned. To the reel is attached a strong piece of leather which can be pressed down by the thumb on the line so as to act as a brake, and is very simple and efficient.

The line is a peculiarly American production, known as cuttyhunk line, made of flax, immensely strong, very light and cheap. I know of no line so suited to its purpose, or which, as I have said before, forms such excellent backing to a trout or salmon line. The regulations of the Club provide that the line must not be more than 24-ply, which is about equal in thickness to a not very strong salmon trolling line; 9-ply is about the size of a trout line. The 24-ply line practically cannot be broken by the strongest man, and stands a dead strain of considerable amount. It is also remarkably cheap. A tuna line of 1000 yards costs 5 dollars, and since they are often broken, this quality is a very excellent one. The lightness of the line and its thickness are both, too, very good qualities when several hundred yards are out, and cutting the water at great speed. The line is prepared and kept in good preservation by being rubbed with common yellow beeswax, and by being dried after use.

The tuna rods, reels, and lines, which I saw at Catalina, seemed exceedingly well adapted for their purpose, and were most efficient without being expensive. It was earnestly impressed on me to be sure to obtain the best tackle, and to have a spare rod and reel and several lines in the boat. Great care should be taken of the tackle, and also to see that everything is in good order, as the fish is a most formidable antagonist, and the slightest hitch or weakness will end in an immediate disaster.

To the end of the line is attached a large hook with a herring as bait. Formerly the flying fish was considered to be the only bait which the tuna would take, and they were not always easy to get, but it has lately been found that the herring is as good.

At first the fishing was carried on from a launch trailing a row-boat behind, which the fisherman entered as soon as a tuna was hooked. In this way the fish was more easily followed, but the boat being often unable to move quickly enough, was at the mercy of the tuna, and was practically towed in all directions. Nowadays, a vast improvement has taken place by the introduction of small, smart-looking gasoline launches, the best being pointed fore and aft, moving quickly in either direction, so that the fish is followed rapidly, or run away from when it suddenly turns and rushes towards the boat. The boatmen are smart fellows, and are mostly registered on the books of the Tuna Club. L2 a day is the charge for a day's fishing, including launch and tackle.

The tuna may arrive at the beginning of June in large shoals, pursuing the flying fish, though the date of their arrival is uncertain; but about this time, or even earlier, the tuna fishermen appear at Avalon and await the appearance of the fish. One of the attractions of this sport is the fact that it is done on sight, so to speak; there is no dreary trolling aimlessly about, half asleep under a hot sun. No one goes tuna fishing unless the fish are seen, because it is absolutely useless; failing a sight of them a small gathering of men collects in Avalon who lounge about the hotel and beach. The true tuna man does not as a rule care much for any lesser sport, but awaits the coming of the fish he is after.

A watchman is kept on the cliffs by the Tuna Club, who signals their arrival. Owing probably to their habit of pursuing the flying fish, the tuna make themselves visible at a considerable distance by their constant leaps in the air. It is owing to this fact that they are locally known as the "leaping tuna." The shoals are often very large, probably numbering several thousand fish. The signal of their arrival often causes a scene of considerable excitement in Avalon; the cry of "tuna" is taken up by the boatmen from the watchman on the cliffs, and there is a wild rush in small boats for the launches at anchor in the bay. Sometimes before tackle is in readiness and launches got under way, the tuna shoal sweeps right into the little bay of Avalon, chasing the flying fish in every direction. It can easily be imagined that such a sight is calculated to fire the blood of the most phlegmatic of fishermen, and, the Western American being by no means a stolid individual, the effect must be somewhat startling.

As soon as possible the launches put out and commence trolling across the shoal and wherever the tuna show themselves. It is by no means, however, certain that the fish are in a taking mood, though in such circumstances it is probable that some fish will strike, but it is by no means uncommon to troll thus across and across a shoal of the fish without a single strike being made. On the other hand, sometimes they will take most freely. It must not be supposed that hundreds, or even dozens, of launches thus put off after the tuna; it is more likely that half-a-dozen or ten would be about the number. If the shoals stay near Catalina, there will soon be a few more as the news becomes known on the mainland.

The tuna takes much as a salmon takes a minnow, and goes off with a tremendous rush, which sometimes continues until there is little of the 1000 yards of line left on the reel. It is impossible to touch the reel except at the risk of cutting the fingers. The fisherman sits facing the stern of the launch, with the butt of his rod fixed in a hole under his seat. If little line is left, the fisherman may put on the leather brake hard down, and try to enable the fish to break his line; or else wait until the end comes, and chance a damaged reel or rod. Unless he has a spare rod or reel in the boat, the former course is the best. It is thought that this course of events, which is by no means rare, is caused by the hooking of a very large fish.

If a fish of about 100lb. is hooked, his usual tactics are either a series of lightning rushes, which must be followed by the steersman, who must be as quick to go astern as to go forward, or else the fish goes off at tremendous speed a few feet below the surface. The tuna never jumps like the tarpon when hooked, he either rushes along below the surface or goes deep. There are 2000 fathoms of water round Avalon. His mouth is not hard like the tarpon, and the hook therefore goes well in; he apparently knows that he cannot shake it out by leaping in the air. Sometimes the hook tears out, but most fish are lost by breakage. It is perhaps more by the skill of the steersman and the quickness of the launch than by the merit of the fisherman that the capture is effected. When beaten, the fish is gaffed.

Many tall stories are told in Avalon of adventures with tuna, though many of them probably happened when the fish was pursued in a rowing boat. In the launches now in use the fisherman has a better chance. The small boats were towed by the fish at their will. It is reported that on one occasion a boat was towed over to the mainland during the night, and was off Avalon again in the morning. Mr. F.V. Ryder, the Secretary of the Tuna Club, informed me that he went off with provisions to a launch that had been engaged for seven hours with a tuna, and found the boatman in charge of the rod, owing to the complete exhaustion of the fisherman. He returned again seven hours afterwards, and found the boatman still struggling with the fish, which was nearly beaten. At the boatman's request, he gaffed the fish, which went off with the gaff and was lost, owing to the hook tearing away. The fish was the largest he had ever seen hooked, appearing to be probably 400lb. or 500lb. Mr. Ryder informed me that he had landed six tuna in one day, and also in one day had lost no fewer than five lines, and had broken a rod and a reel. He stated that he believed only ten per cent. of the fish hooked were ever landed, and that he would not back himself to land more than 25 per cent. of fish hooked. At the same time he pointed out that many who come to Avalon are by no means skilled fishermen.

The number of fish landed in a season from June to September is by no means large; the best year produced 125, one year 75, another only 50, and last season (1905) but 12 were landed and not one over 100lb.

There are several other islands off the coast of California which are known to be visited by the tuna, but the waters round them are too much exposed to the Pacific swell for the use of the small launches which are necessary for tuna fishing, and therefore the waters round Catalina are the only place at present known where this sport can be followed.

It is not known where the tuna go in the winter, but it is quite possible they might be found along the coast of Lower California, a province of Mexico which stretches south from the lower boundary of California, separated from the mainland by the Gulf of California. It is an almost uninhabited country and it struck me that the tuna might well be discovered among the numerous islands and sheltered waters which one finds along its coasts in the winter months, especially as the climate is much warmer. The tuna do not stay permanently round Avalon even during the summer; sometimes they may stay for weeks, at others only a few days. This is probably entirely dependant on the movements of the flying fish.

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