VISIT TO ZANE GREY’S CAMP

Dominion, Volume 22, Issue 140, 9 March 1929, Page 28

VISIT TO ZANE GREY’S CAMP

THRILLING FIGTHS WITH MAKO A GIANT TURTLE Mr. Zane Grey'?* declared that Mercury Bay is the most beautiful of all the deep-sea fishing grounds he has yet visited, and his view certainly has plenty to substantiate it The historic nature of the surroundings, forever memorable through the visit of the famous navigator, Captain Cook, the many noble headlands, the extraordinary rock forma,tions, and the glowing colours of the volcanic outcrops all serve to make a wonderful picture. Beautiful Camp Site. The novelist’s main camp is on Great Mercury Island, situated to the north of the bay, and here in a sheltered corner shaded by fine pohutukawa trees half-a-dozen tents are pitched on the grassy slopes. The writer arrived at the camp just after sunrise on a recent morning to find Grey busily engaged on the manuscript of a new book\of sport in New Zealand. Mr. Grey is a great worker, and never wastes a minute in camp. In the same manner with his fishing, he is absolutely tireless, and roams the sea all day hunting for the big game fish which have already made this country’s name famous in other parts of the world. After breakfast in camp, the party boarded the two fast launches and set out for the main fishing bank outside Red Mercury Island. The first thing to do was to obtain bait, so directly after leaving the bay light rods were brought into requisition and spinners were paid out astern to attract the greedy kahawai. This beautiful fish, which is really a salt water salmon, lurks about the reefs and headlands of the islands to prey upon the luckless herring shoals as they stream past on the tide, so that anything that looks like a small fish is savagely rushed and eaten. With a cool breeze wafting down from the flax and scrub-covered slopes of the island and ruffling the long heaving swell and with the beauty of

the morning to distract one’s thoughts, it was difficult to turn serious attention upon the game in hand. The water was darkly blue at the foot of the cliffs where eager shags, were already diving for a breakfast. Little blue penguins swam leisurely from the course of the launch and in the same leisurely fashion slid beneath the surface to avoid us. It was all very fascinating and interesting, until suddenly my reel commenced to run swiftly out, and glancing astern we were astonished to see a much more astonished gannet shoot to the surface with wings wildly outspread, vainly endeavouring to rid itself of the strange and unpalatable fish it had dived upon. Apparently the strain upon the line proved too much for the birds beak-hold, for the hook broke

away and the gannet streaked for the mainland. Soon, as we cruised at reduced speed among a group of enchanted rocks and islands, Grey’s rod bent to a vigorous strike, and after a short tussle a beautiful green and amberspotted kahawai dropped floundering to the floor boards of the cockpit. Deft hands rapidly transferred the catch to a salt water tank to await further consideration, while spinners were again brought into action. So, trolling for bait and admiring the wild grandeur of the weatherworn rocks and headlands, we gradually drew abreast of Red Mercury, perhaps the most beauti-fully-coloured of all the islands. On the seaward face this great pile of volcanic rock displays a remarkable

variety of colours. Deep red merges into mauve and purple strata, with delicate pinks and blues underlying them. Halfway down, a wide band of yellow traverses the entire length of the cliff face, and beneath this chocolates and reds again appear. Grey considered that nowhere else short of the Grand Canyon of the Arizona had he seen such a strange blending of colour. At tlie Fishing Bank. Now we were fairly headed for the great fishing bank, a long curving line of sunken reefs lying parallel to the coast, and a famous place for the school fish, upon which the deep-sea monsters wage continual warfare. Heavier rods and tackle were produced, a whole fish being used for bait, and with these towing astern we commenced cruising slowly seaward. It was an extraordinarily peacefull scene; the calm surface of the ocean stretched away to the horizon with scarcely a ripple to disturb its serenity, and the keen eyes of our crew failed to detect any sign of life. Yet life there was we knew in plenty, of a savage and bloodthirsty nature, cruising deep below our drifting keel. It may have been an hour before our party was suddenly galvanised into action by a report like a distant gunshot and the sight of a column of white water lifting against the blue of sea and sky some distance ahead of us. “Make!” yelled our boatmen in unison. “Isaw him jump ten feet in the air!” exclaimed Grey, “and he’s a good fish, too.” We started off in pursuit, trolling our bait across the possible path of this monster, but for some time failed to raise a fin. Then there came another crash off to starboard, where a smaller shark leapt high into the air, and again we changed course. There followed a period of tense waiting until suddenly Grey ejaculated, “The son of a gun! He’s grabbed half my bait.” A Great Fighter. Peering overside as the launch drifted, we saw, deep down in the dark blue depths, H a long streak of lighter blue stealing towards the white gleam of the remaining portion of bait. Twice this ghostly-looking visitant cruised around the lure, until suddenly the white flare of his underside showed up, and taking the bait in one fell swoop, the big fish shot away like an arrow. A moment later Grey struck hard with the rod, and the mako found itself well i and truly in for trouble. The fight]

proved most thrilling and spectacular, for the mako is a great fighter, a proper gladiator of the seas, game to the last, with grim jaws snapping defiance at its enemies until the keen-bladed harpoon puts an end to its existence. A little later Captain Mitchell Rooked a companion of the first fish, and from our launch we were able to watch him fight it to a finish. From this time onward the day was full of interst. Enormous shoals of trevalli and bonita were driven upwards from the feeding grounds by voracious sharks and swordfish, whose destructive courses could be plainly discerned by the showers of spray thrown up as the smaller fry made frantic efforts to escape. Flying fish like streaks of gleaming silver leapt into the air to dodge the cruel jaws that broke the water in their midst, and at one period a giant “ray” appeared, cruising on the surface. A Rare Visitor. There are many mysterious denizens of these off-shore banks, and it will probably surprise many New Zealanders to learn that a giant turtle has been sighted on a number of occasions basking on the surface here. It is this fascination, this mystery of the ocean, that lures the sportsman on to seek still further into the teeming life that abounds within its depths. And here, off the coasts of the Dominion, we have, as Mr. Grey says, the finest fishing grounds in the world.