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 £3, 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. £2 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.