mong my
fishing experiences.

The weather (August 2d) was delightful--smooth, rippling sea, no wind,
clear sky and warm. The Sierra Nevada Mountains shone dark above the
horizon.

A little before noon we passed my friend Lone Angler, who hailed us and
said there was a big broadbill swordfish off in the steamer-course. We
steered off in that direction.

There were sunfish and sharks showing all around. Once I saw a whale.
The sea was glassy, with a long, heaving swell. Birds were plentiful in
scattered groups.

We ran across a shark of small size and tried to get him to take a bait.
He refused. A little later Captain Dan espied a fin, and upon running up
we discovered the huge, brown, leathery tail and dorsal of a broadbill
swordfish.

Captain Dan advised a long line out so that we could circle the fish
from a distance and not scare him. I do not remember any unusual
excitement. I was curious and interested. Remembering all I had heard
about these fish, I did not anticipate getting a strike from him.

We circled him and drew the flying-fish bait so that he would swim near
it. As it was, I had to reel in some. Presently we had the bait some
twenty yards ahead of him. Then Captain Dan slowed down. The broadbill
wiggled his tail and slid out of sight. Dan said he was going for my
bait. But I did not believe so. Several moments passed. I had given up
any little hope I might have had when I received a quick, strong,
vibrating strike--different from any I had ever experienced. I suppose
the strangeness was due to the shock he gave my line when he struck the
bait with his sword. The line paid out unsteadily and slowly. I looked
at Dan and he looked at me. Neither of us was excited nor particularly
elated. I guess I did not realize what was actually going on.

I let him have about one hundred and fifty feet of line.

When I sat down to jam the rod-butt in the socket I had awakened to
possibilities. Throwing on the drag and winding in until my line was
taut, I struck hard--four times. He made impossible any more attempts at
this by starting off on a heavy, irresistible rush. But he was not fast,
or so it seemed to me. He did not get more than four hundred feet of
line before we ran up on him. Presently he came to the surface to thresh
around. He did not appear scared or angry. Probably he was annoyed at
the pricking of the hook. But he kept moving, sometimes on the surface
and sometimes beneath. I did not fight him hard