Tons of Fish Caught Daily on 20 Piers Near Los Angeles —
An old cane pole and a can of bait,
An old cane pole and a can of bait,
some hooks and a linen line;
The tang o’ the sea, and the pier for me,
And I will call it fine.
So sing 10,000 men, women and children each day on the twenty piers between the long wharf at Santa Monica and San Pedro. Or, if they do not actually sing it, they feel it, which is just the same.
Ten thousand is a low estimate of the daily pier attendance, say old-time fishermen. At times, if the weather is bad, or the fish not bitin’ to speak of, possibly not more than a few hundred persons visit the twenty piers, but just let the word go ‘round that a run of sea bass, yellowtail or even smelt is on, and quickly the piers are lines.
At Santa Monica the other day 377 fishermen were angling from one pier. At Ocean Park, one the same day, 204 were counted. But this doesn’t mean the Santa Monica pier offers any angling advantage over Ocean Park or other beaches, for if, on the following day, rumor had it that a big run of mackerel had reached the Ocean Park pier, the greatest number would have been there. In other words, the fishermen are migratory in nature, and go where the best sport can be found.
Old men—some of them away beyond threescore and ten—visit the piers daily. Lunch basket in hand, these pier fishermen who love the tang o’ the sea, and delight in feeling a tug at the line, march to their favorite spot each morning and frequently stay all day. Sometimes they go home with one big fish; sometimes with all they can carry, and occasionally empty handed, but a careful inspection of the basket or creel will generally show at least a mess of smelt or pompanos.
“They ain’t bitin’ much,” said Jeff Riggle of 1418 Seventeenth street, Santa Monica, the other day, as the writer approached and asked the same old question.
“Catchin’ anything?”
“Only a nibble now and then.” He added, but before the words were out of his mouth the linen line began to hum through the reel, a three-pound yellowfin having swallowed the bait, and the fight was on.
“Yes, I’ve got him,” said Jeff Riggle, as a smile lit up his face and his eyes twinkled.
“Bout three or four pounds, I guess, and either a yellowfin or a croaker. Gee! See him take that line. Now then, steady, that’s right keep a fightin’, but you can’t get off. There, that’s better, come right along now.
And Jeff Riggle, past seventy, hauled in a three-pound yellowfin.
And so on, all the way to San Pedro. At Redondo, on pier No. 3, the yellowtail were biting and J. B. LaRock, 724 South Catalina avenue, landed one that weighed thirty-five pounds, on light tackle. It took just fifteen minutes to bring in the big fellow to gaff, and what a beauty he was! Lying there on the pier, flopping around and continuing its efforts to escape, it looked as though it might weigh fifty pounds, but a pair of scales proved that the weight was just thirty-five pounds. The fish was more than forty inches long, and “as fat as butter,” as one of the oldtimers put it.
Charles Stillwell Jr., eight years old, grandson of Charles Stillswell Sr., owner of the Stillwell hotel, is one of the enthusiastic young pier fishermen. His father, Carl Stillwell, of the Potter apartments, accompanies him, and it’s a poor day for fishing when they do not bring in a number of large fish.
“One day, not long ago, thirty sea bass and yellowtail were taken from pier No. 3 Redondo, before noon,” said Mr. Stillwell. “They weighed all the way from twenty to forty pounds, and for a time this was one of the liveliest piers you ever saw. When several fishermen get strikes at the same time, and there is danger of their lines becoming tangled, it takes quick work to land the fish. Sometimes they get away, but generally, by a little head work, we manage to bring them to gaff within a few minutes.
In round numbers, it has been estimated a ton of fish a day is caught from the twenty piers. This would mean 730,000 pounds in a year, or $73,000 worth of fish annually if figured at 10 cents a pound.
“But that’s a small consideration,” said one old man, who has been a daily visitor at Ocean Park for several years.
“Seventy-three thousand dollars isn’t much compared with the millions of dollars worth of fun we have. You’ve got to remember that, too.”
— Los Angeles Morning Tribune, June 7, 1914