Eight years ago there was no tuna season, no tuna license. You started fishing when you were ready and stopped when you liked. Tuna were worth $50 each. The camaraderie among the crews was worth more than the tuna. Occasionally, you would have a charter that leave you so incensed, that you would not take them out again for a thousand dollars. Generally speaking, however, most all charter people were pleasant and after they were gone home you were left with the feeling that you were happier with the pleasant memories of having them aboard. The luckiest day we ever had on the Thynnus, happened when we had a man from Switzerland. Apparently he had been down to Italy and had watched a film about tuna fishing at North Lake. So he decided then and there that he was coming to North Lake. He only had three days - one to come, one to fish and one to go back home. He couldn't speak one word of English so he brought an interpreter with him.

ON OUR BOAT

Just by luck (for us) he drew our boat. When he told us his story that morning (his interpreter had perfect English) we decided to go early. About 9 a.m. we hooked up and within an hour he had his fish. That afternoon about 2:30 he had another fish on, and brought the second one to gaff in about a half hour.

He asked us to take him ashore and he was about the happiest man at North Lake that day. He took about 20 pictures of his fish and himself, also the boat and her crew, also North Lake. He vowed if he lived for another year, he would be back. He gave $50.00 tips to each of us and he was gone.

Another day we had three men from Los Angeles, we were trowling along when a tuna leaped clear out of the water and took the bait and was gone. The man in the chair froze. His friends slapped him, threw water on him, his eyes were glassy, and he could not speak so we took him out of the chair, dragged him into the cabin. Another man got in the chair, and in an hour's time we had the fish tied on. They went into the cabin and poured a drink of whiskey for him, he drank it and coughed and spluttered, run out of the cabin, got into the chair, and then he came out of his coma and gazed around and then started to cry and swear. He thought he had lost the fish, the rod, reel and line. They were about a half hour trying to console him before he finally believed them.

HUMOROUS INCIDENT

I feel quite sure that Captain Frank Gillis will not mind if I tell this funny story which happened on his boat one day that I was his mate. We left the lake this day, which was almost a perfect day for fishing with a light air of wind from the Sou West. We cruised along on about 10 fathoms, as far west as Big Pond and never even saw a sIgn of a tuna. Shortly after lunch we had a couple of passes, later on a couple of tuna came up and smelled around our baits. Apparently, they were not hungry as they left in a short time. Later on that afternoon another tuna come along and turned up his nose and swam away as if he didn't like the look of us.

Our charter man seemed a little perturbed at so many fish not likeing our bait, so we tied in a fresh set of baits, better known as daisy chains. By this time it was getting late, and we were debating about reeling in the baits.

"Holy Whistlin...did you see that?", Frank hollered to me. A tuna had jumped clear out of the water, alongside our baits. "Don't say a word, he'll be back." Sure enough he surfaced just behind our bait, then he made one mad rush at about 20 miles an hour, swallowed the bait and was gone sending a geyser of water about 10 feet in the air. He took off like a torpedo and we took off after him. He was going much faster and was peeling line off the reel till it sounded like a siren. Frank dipped a bucket full of water and poured it over the reel to cool it off. The man said, "did you have to do that", the water went all over the man's legs and crutch.

GOING LIKE MAD

All the time the tuna is going like mad and zig-zagging. Finally, he tired and slowed down, and we gaffed him. By this time we were away offshore on about 30 fathoms, this had to be one of the most exciting battles I had experienced. We had a long 'ol sail ahead of us and the sun was gone and it was quite cool now. I noticed the charter man hugging the warm exhaust. Finally, he ambled over to me going sideways like a crab and said "did I wet myself when I was fighting that tuna?" I replied, "I don't know why?" "Well," he said, "I'm kinda wet." "Oh, Oh, I said, 'don't you remember? Frank poured: water on the reel. He interupted replied: "poured water on the what - poured water on the what?"

I said, "Frank poured water on the reel." "Oh, he poured water on the reel. You mean he poured water on me!"

I said, "no, he poured water on the reel because it was getting hot, and the water ran down all over you."

"Oh God, I'm glad to hear that. Y'know, I don't remember that at all," Y'know thought sure I wet myself. I never knew I was that excited! Y'know I'll have a great story to tell when I get home."