Superior Fishing / Or, the Striped Bass, Trout, and Black Bass of the Northern States

by Robert Barnwell Roosevelt

As the season advances, the native crawls upon some rock that reaches out into the stream, and with his coarse but elastic cedar pole, casts the roll of flannel, wrapped round a hook and misnamed a fly, into the seething current; and when the brave fish seizes the clumsy allurement the fisherman contends for the mastery as best he may, occasionally at the risk of a ducking in the stream consequent upon the sudden breaking of his tackle, and accompanied with considerable risk. When a man has but a slight foothold upon the slippery surface of a shelving ledge, and has attached to the end of his rod a vigorous fish of twenty pounds, he is apt to fall if the line parts unexpectedly. Many are the tales of such accidents, and now and then of fatal results. But with proper tackle, the scientific angler is master of the situation; he can reach any part of the current, casting into the eddies at the base of the precipitous cliffs opposite; he can yield to the rush of the prey; can retire, paying out line, to surer footing, and can follow the fish along the shore; and finally, having subdued his spirit and broken his strength, can lead the prize, gleaming through the transparent water with the sun’s rays reflected in rainbow colors from his scales, into some quiet nook where he can gaff him with safety. Such is fly-fishing for striped bass amid the most lovely scenery, gorgeous in its summer dress of green and alternating hill and valley, dotted with pretty farms and smiling grain-fields; and there is but little sport that can surpass it.

Bass are also taken at the Grand Falls, ten miles further up the river; but the Little Falls are their favorite locality, as they are here just passing from the salt tide into the pure, sparkling, broken fresh-water. They frequently weigh twenty pounds, and occasionally much more; but, of course, the main run is smaller, and the number killed in lucky days is prodigious, being counted by hundreds.

Bass are said to be taken with the fly in other rivers of the Southern States, and also to a certain degree in those of the north. At the mouths of narrow inlets, where the tide is rapid and diluted with fresh-water, a gaudy red and white fly with a full body, kept on the surface by the force of the current and not cast as in fly-fishing, will occasionally beguile them; but generally speaking, bass are not fished for with the fly north of the Potomac.

Although the artistic angler naturally despises the miserable flannel abortion manufactured by the stupid boors of Tenally Town, it will often be found as good a lure as though composed of the rarest materials; in fact the bass exhibit none of that daintiness of choice that is universal with salmon. So long as the fly is large and showy they seem to be satisfied, and their immense mouths can readily grasp a No. 7 hook, such as the natives occasionally use. One of half that size is abundantly large, however, and the clearer the water the finer should be the tackle. The rod, reel, and line are those appropriate to salmon fishing, although the line, if it is wet by salt-water, should be afterwards rinsed in fresh to prevent rotting. Some fishermen fasten a float above the fly, and paying out line let it run down stream into distant eddies; but this is not so orthodox a mode of proceeding, and does not require equal skill nor as delicate tackle.

After a fish is struck, the same care has to be exercised if he is heavy that is necessary with the salmon, and he will often compel the angler to follow him a long distance ere the gaff terminates the struggle. Bass make very determined but not such rapid runs as their fellow-denizen of the flood, the salmo salar, but rarely retain that reserved force which makes his last dash so often fatal; nevertheless they are resolute and powerful, and have to be handled with care.

Another mode of taking bass, which is strongly recommended, even for the open bays of the north, by one of our best fishermen, but which I have only tried in the narrow coves, inlets, and streams, where the tide-way can be covered by a good cast, is to use the salmon rod, line, and reel, but to substitute a shrimp for the fly. The casting is then done in the ordinary manner, and the gentleman referred to claims, that it is by far the most killing mode. If even equally successful, it is certainly far preferable to the use of the float and sinker, or to the dull monotony of bottom fishing. Any sport that brings into active play the faculties of body or mind, and which demands practice and experience, surpasses the one that requires the merely passive quality of patience.

The most successful, and excepting perhaps fly-fishing, the most skilful method of taking the striped beauties of the northern coasts, is with the menhaden bait, cast into the boiling surf of the ocean, or the larger bays; and this sport is universally enjoyed along the iron-bound shore of New England, from New London to Eastport. This entire reach, is one mass of rock, indented by innumerable bays, or severed by inlets into barren islands, where the tide rushes, and the surf beats; and in every favorable locality are the bass taken with a stout rod, a long line, and menhaden bait. From almost every bold rock, or prominent island, can the angler cast into the vexed water of some current, made by the huge waves rushing over the uneven bottom, and allure thence the fierce bass, who has been attracted from the ocean depths, to feed on the small fry that hide in the clefts and crevices; and waiting with fins often visible above the tide, to pounce upon his prey, mistakes for it the angler’s bait, and after a brave struggle surrenders to human ingenuity.

Although the true fisherman may pursue the small fish of the Delaware or Hudson, of New York Bay or the Sound, may patiently bide their time at Hackensac or Pelham bridges, McComb’s dam or the hedges; and may have true pleasure in capturing them with dancing float and shrimp, or running sinker, and shedder crab; if he can spare a week or two, he should cut adrift from the noise and turmoil, foul stenches, and fouler deeds of the city; and hastening to Newport or Point Judith, enjoy the noblest sport of the salt water—bass-fishing with menhaden bait. He will need stout nerves, strong muscles, good tackle, and abundant skill; for he will be called upon to cast with the utmost of his power, perhaps a hundred yards, and to strike and land fish that may weigh half a hundred pounds. He will be exposed to the sea-breeze, or it may be the storm wind at early day-light, and the spray from the salt waves, and wet and cold will be his portion; but he will forget these trivial evils, when he strikes the bass of forty, fifty, or sixty pounds, the fish that he has been living for, and when he lands him safely on the slippery rocks.

Fishermen of character have been known to assert, that they could cast with the rod, the ordinary menhaden bait, one hundred and twenty yards; and although from a high stand, with the aid of a strong wind, this is possible, the ordinary cast is not over half that distance, and to exceed one hundred when standing on a level with the water is rare indeed. In fact, seventy-five yards is a good cast, and no man need be ashamed who can put out his line fair and true that distance. Rather better can be done with the hand-line than with the rod, but with far greater fatigue, and a painful over-exertion of the muscles of the arm that is almost unendurable to one who has not steady practice. The length of cast is in a measure controlled by the direction and violence of the wind and the elevation of the stand above the water; in a contrary wind the best angler will find it difficult to reach seventy-five yards, while from a high rock, with a favorable wind, he will cover that distance with ease.

The use of the hand line is neither artistic nor adapted to gentlemen who fish for pleasure, although more killing probably than the rival method. For rod fishing, the best tackle and implements are necessary; the rod must be short and stout, the finest being made of cane at a fabulous expense; the reel should have steel pins or run on agate, be made large and perfectly true, and the line must be from two hundred to three hundred yards long. Cane rods are preferred on account of their lightness and elasticity, but they are at present almost unattainable at any price, and the ordinary ones will answer well, although after several hundred casts weight will be found to tell on unaccustomed muscles. The objection to jewelled reels is, that a fall or blow may render them useless, while they run but little smoother than those with steel pins. The reel and guides must be large to deliver the line freely, and if the line is seen to bag during the cast between the guides, it is a sure sign that they are too small. The line is of twisted grass or raw silk, which is the best but most expensive and delicate; of plaited silk, which is the strongest; or of linen, which is cheap and common, but as they are all easily rotted, is the one in general use. The grass line, if it overruns and whips against the bars of the reel, is sure to cut, but it delivers beautifully; the silk line soon becomes water-logged and sticky; and the linen one combines these defects with a faculty of swelling when wet peculiarly its own. A perfect bass-line is a desideratum not yet supplied. The American reels and cane rods are perfection, but the lines are a cause of reproach and vexation of spirit.