Almost due south of Los Angeles, and about twenty miles from the
mainland, is the far-famed island of Catalina.
It is still a debatable question whether it was the leaping tuna that
made Catalina famous, or whether it was its many attractions, its
facilities for sea fishing and its splendid accommodations, that gave
the sport of tuna fishing a world-wide reputation.
This beautiful island, with its diversified amusements; its grand
scenery; its wonderful drives; its surf less sea bathing; its marine
views; its perfect equipment for sea fighting, and its splendidly
appointed hotel, has made it the Mecca to which the enthusiastic
anglers of the world make their regular pilgrimages, for it seems to
be the favored habitat of all the game fishes of the ocean, except the
salmon and the striped bass.
Catalina is the home of the Tuna Club, the greatest fishing
organization of the world, with its international membership pledged
to the promotion of scientific angling. It is here where the world's
records are made, and the greatest feats in landing the fighting
monsters of the sea have been achieved.
In its variety of game fishes I know of no place to equal it. The
leaping tuna, the albacore, the Spanish mackerel, the bonito, the chub
mackerel, the white sea bass, the yellow-tail, and the California
swordfish, the sensational fighter of the ocean, are all here and
ready to give the light tackle angler the most exciting contest of his
life.
When the angler waits for the tides, he wants some other divertisement
to occupy his mind. At Catalina he finds a pastime suitable to every
hour, to every fancy, to every mood. He can bathe in its crystal
waters; he can stroll along its pebbly beaches or climb its hills in
search of wild goats; he can ride through its charming valleys, over
its lofty peaks and around the dizzy heights that overlook the ocean;
he can increase the elasticity of his step on its tennis courts, or
exercise his muscle on its golf links. He can view the ancient relics
of a departed people, study the strange and curious forms of ocean
life in the extensive aquariums, or comfortably seated in a
glass-bottomed boat, marvel at the extravagant splendor of the marine
gardens, hundreds of feet below the surface, where sirens sing and
mermaids are said to dwell. And, when he has gone the rounds, and
longs again for more exciting sport, well--then he can go fishing.
[Illustration: HOTEL DEL MONTE]