From the November 9, 1928 edition of the Vineyard Gazette: Verily, the season for sport never ends on Martha’s Vineyard.
From the November 9, 1928 edition of the Vineyard Gazette:
Verily, the season for sport never ends on Martha’s Vineyard. Game seasons are game seasons wherever the sportsman goes, but a man may hunt or fish the year round if he lives on the Vineyard and at this time of the year he may do both if he chooses.
From early summer until cold weather, the mackerel school in Vineyard waters and many of the summer visitors as well as commercial fishermen follow the practice of drailing, or towing the baited hooks behind a moving boat where they are eagerly snapped at by the big summer fish. But during this period of the year, when fall is merging into winter, and when the opening of the hunting season causes the majority to forget fishing, the mackerel still remain, the finest fish of the year, fat and heavy, but perhaps smaller than the summer fish.
As lively as ever and often as plentiful, these fish will school close to land and will bite as well as at any time of the year, though not at the moving drail.
Fall mackerel must be “chummed up” and the process is not only interesting but it provides considerable pleasure to the real fisherman who recognizes the fact that getting ready for a fishing trip is almost as enjoyable as the trip itself.
Fall mackerel fishing is not for the man who is indifferently inclined toward the sport. It is a game for the dyed in the wool angler who forgets to eat or sleep when the fish are biting and who dreams of fish when he sleeps. There are many such men, who flinch not from the cold or wet and who do not fear seasickness or other discomfort if their efforts may be rewarded with a string of fish, and to these hardy souls fall mackerel fishing is recommended as a thrilling pastime.
A lively fish, the mackerel is hardly a species that lends itself to play with a rod, no matter what its size may be. It drowns easily and would not provide much pleasure. No, the mackerel must be hauled in hand over hand and the fisherman must handle two lines which, when the fish are biting well, will keep him busy. There is no livelier sight than to see three or four men lining a boat’s rail, each with a pair of lines which they can handle them.
In preparing for the trip it is important that the bait and gear should be just right. Mackerel lines of the proper length to be cut into two parts for jig fishing may be purchased at any store. So, also, may be the jigs, themselves, small hooks with an oblong, tapering piece of lead, moulded on to the shank. No other sinker is needed as the hook is not supposed to lie very far below the surface.
Commercial fishermen commonly carry their mackerel lines wound on light cleats that are screwed to the side of the boat at the points where men stand to fish. In this way much fouling is avoided.
The end of each line is made fast to the cleat an dis never cast off during the mackerel season, When a day’s fishing is done, each man will coil his lines on the cleats as he draws them in, and secure his hooks in such a way as to prevent them from catching into anything. Some fishermen have small wooden cups screwed to the staying between the cleats, into which the jigs are dropped when not in use. The lines need not be detached from them and the scheme is very convenient and practical.
Old-timers who manned the fish-rails of the ancient eastern sloops, used to get fresh menhaden in the spring or summer to cut off the sides, “slivering” as it was called. This made two steaks, as it were, almost entirely free of bones. The slivers were carefully salted after being washed and squeezed to remove any blood that might be in them. Prepared in this way the salt fish would keep in the pickle for an indefinite period, but it the pickle leaked out the fish would “rust” as it was called, and no real mackerel killer would attempt to use such bait.
But it is not at all necessary to go to such lengths in preparing the mackerel bait. Sand eels, sardines or fresh menhaden may be seined and used, the only stipulation being that they must be fresh.
Mackerel fishing, like all other kinds, is a gamble. On some days the fish will refuse to rise. On others they will bit but a short time. It is sometimes necessary to be on the ground at break of day and the wind may rise with the sun to drive the fisherman into port. All these things interfere with the sport, but under the right conditions it is not unusual for a man to catch fifty fish before the tide stops them from biting, and even larger hauls are frequently made.
And, if the fisherman is a fish eater, as the true angler always is, he will be amply rewarded for all his troubles and pains when he sits down to a meal of these fall mackerel, freshly caught from the Vineyard waters. Mackerel are always delicious, but the fall run of the fish is far superior to any other. Like the last apple on the tree, they are, perhaps, the most difficult to obtain, but once tasted, the flavor is never forgotten.
Compiled by Hilary Wallcox

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