Fish Tales: Fresh and Salty

By Eyvinn H. Schoenberg

In this new book by Eyvinn H Schoenberg, fishermen and their families are exposed to 20 chapters (TALES) of delightful reading about how he and his family enjoyed their fishing adventures on and off over seventy years, in the then Territory of Hawaii, various States in the USA, and in Peru, Mexico, and the Northen Bahamas. And the last TALE on his answer to the problem of the world's diminishing

food fish supplies will be quite a surprise.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 31, 2005
• ISBN: 9781465327024

Eyvinn H. Schoenberg

Eyvinn H. Schoenberg, of Norwegian parentage, grew up in Hawaii on waterfront property facing the Middle Loch of Pearl Harbor, and was soon into swimming, diving, surfing and model building. Eyvinn’s hobbies of swimming, diving and surfing, and then flying, has led him to writing three books: “BOARD TALK and other salty tales”, PLANE TALK: Cessna Export Tales, and this last one: “FISH TALES: fresh and salty”. He and Eleanor live quietly in a Mobil Home park in Ventura Caifornia, sometimes marketing their last two books, checking the waves at Ventura’s Surfers Point, kicking tires at nearby airports, and thinking of going fishing again.

Book preview

FISH TALES:

FRESH AND SALTY

Eyvinn H. Schoenberg

Copyright © 2005 by Eyvinn H. Schoenberg.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or

transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,

including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage

and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the

copyright owner.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

25461

Contents

WHY FISH TALES?

INTRODUCTION

TALE 1

A YOUNG FISHERMAN IN PEARL HARBOR, OAHU, T. OF H.

TALE 2

THE FISH PONDS IN PEARL HARBOR

TALE 3

SURFCASTING, WEST OAHU STYLE

TALE 4

HOW DO YOU STRING YOUR FISH? *

TALE 5

SPEAR FISHING IN THE SOUTH PACIFIC

TALE 6

TROLLING FOR LAKE WASHINGTON SILVER SALMON

TALE 7

A SEATTLE’S ELLIOT BAY TROPHY LING COD CATCH

TALE 8

THE EDMONDS/MUKILTEO WASHINGTON SLIDE-LAUNCH WAY TO CATCH SALMON

TALE 9

STEELHEADING UNDER THE R.R. BRIDGE NEAR SNOHOMISH WA

TALE 10

STEELHEADING ON THE OLYMPIC PENINSULA, WASHINGTON

TALE 11

A GRAND TOUR OF THE OLYMPIC PENINSULA

TALE 12

HIGH ALTITUDE TROUT FISHING IN PERU

TALE 13

SAILFISHING AT ACAPULCO, MEXICO

TALE 14

TROUT FISHING ON THE WHITE RIVER, ARKANSAS

TALE 15

SCUBA DIVING WITH A SHELL COLLECTOR IN HAWAIIAN WATERS *

TALE 16

BONE FISHING AT GREEN TURTLE CAY, GREAT ABACO, BAHAMAS *

TALE 17

A BAJA CALIFORNIA FISHING ADVENTURE

TALE 18

FISHING IN OREGON’S STREAMS AND LAKES

TALE 19

THE CHARTER BOAT FISHING FLEET BUSINESS

TALE 20

FISH FARMING

WHY FISH TALES?

After five magazine articles about Radio Control Model Flying, a book about Surfing, BOARD TALK and other salty tales, and another about Flying, PLANE TALK: Cessna Export Tales, my daughter Christina sent me a book on fishing and asked: Dad, why not write a book about your earliest hobby, Fishing, and our family fishing adventures?

Then my son Vic sent me a book of a collection of Ernest Hemingway’s articles from his earliest writings.

So with such requests, and even the cost of the printing paid by my dear Christina, this recollection of Fish Tales was launched.

After the experience of learning to use a computer, I retired my Ticonderoga pencils, yellow pads, and went directly to my iMac, where I can compose phrases and sentences, save them, change them or spell check them, print a page, bring it back on the computer desk top for a better phrase or word, and reprint it, all so much faster than before.

Is that better? I hope so. We’ll see.

So I began writing FISH TALES on Monday, Feb. 17, 2004.

INTRODUCTION

I have known Eyvinn Schoenberg for over twenty five years, and been on a number of fishing adventures together with him.

Those and the earlier family trips he has written about give the reader a view of the fun everyone had, and which his daughter insisted he write about for the family.

But typically, Eyvinn at the end of his seventy five years of on and off fishing and studies of the worldwide deminishing supply of so many kinds of fish, and the fish farming problems, has come up with HIS SOLUTION.

FISH TALES:fresh and salty is a fitting way to end a lifelong love of adventurous fishing, indeed.

Eleanor Dove

TALE 1

A YOUNG FISHERMAN IN PEARL HARBOR, OAHU, T. OF H.

I grew up living in an old waterfront home on Laniwai Street on the Pearl City Peninsula, on Oahu, Territory of Hawaii. The Peninsula jutted out into Pearl Harbor between what was termed East Loch, and Middle loch. Our waterfront home, facing toward the west had a long pier, equipped with cupola and bench for shade and to watch the evening sun, and for the youngsters, two diving boards, a one-meter and a three-meter high dive type.

The depth at the diving boards end was about eight to nine feet, and our pier became the roundevous for the neighborhood kids in the summertime, learning to swim with more than the dog paddle, to jump off the low diving board holding one’s nose, progressing from the cannonball to the back flip, and then bravely off the high dive board with a swan dive. Before and after the swimming activities, were the fish, all around the pier, fish of all kinds.

The pier attracted large schools of a baitfish, called nehu, one to two inches in length, beloved as meals by larger fish six to 12 inches in size, or even larger. Of these, the most sought after as to taste, was called the papio-pio, a junior sized crevally, usually from one-half to three pounds in weight.

My father loved to dine on this particular fish, especially for his morning breakfasts, as a substitute for bacon, with half a papaya, eggs-over-easy, toast, New Zealand butter, guava jam, and local Kona coffee, our ritual Sunday breakfasts.

Noting my interest in the bait and the various kinds of larger fish often chasing them as they surrounded our pier I was asked, having long wanted a bamboo pole, catgut line, and hooks that he had finally obtained for me, bought out of my meager allowance: Can you catch a nice sized papio-pio for me by next Sunday? You’ll earn a dime a fish.

With much of my ten-year-old fishing knowledge obtained from conversation with the neighbor’s Japanese gardener, an astute fisherman himself, I confidently answered: Sure, I can, and began preparing to find some opai(shrimp) for bait for a big, almost ulua-sized papio (over four pounds the papio was called an ‘ulua’). Ulua could become really large, I had heard, up to over twenty pounds, sometimes, trolled for out in deep waters, or surf casted for along rocky shores.)

Around our pier were often to be found all kinds large schools of an eight-inch striped fish (not good tasting but exciting to catch as they excitedly chased the baitfish around the pier), Papio-pio (baby crevally), kahala (smaller amberjack), kalani (surgeon fish-not good eating), schools of ama ama(mullet-which didn’t bite on hooks), always lone fanged kakua (barracuda), and toothy puhi (eels) in their rocky lairs. On the mudflats at the inner ends of the lochs were the schools of opai (shrimp), crabs, both blue or red, clams, and in some secret areas, oysters. Pearl Harbor was teeming with all kinds of sealife!

Several papio-pio young Eyvinn caught early that Sunday morning, in time to be prepared for the ritual family breakfast, so desired by his Bergen, Norway-born father.

Pearl Harbor was indeed a veritable paradise for a young would-be fisherman.

My father was so pleased with that catch, and I with my pay, that thanks to his telling his friends, soon I began catching papio-pio for other families living on the Pearl City Peninsula. A rowboat I needed to service my growing business I fortunately could borrow from our next door neigbor for the string of fish traps I learned to build and anchored strategically near the Naval warships’ buoys where fish like papio tended to congregate.

Several of my friends, Eddie and Lester in particular, who was a bit older, an astute young businessman as well, had the news paper delivery route, and even a bank account with the bank in Waipahu. Eddie was strong and an willing worker, so they were a good team as partners in the fishing business. They specialized in catching ommaca in large quantities when they encountered them schooling, chasing the nehu bait fish. (Nehu also were popular with the Japanese fish lovers as a dried delicacy, though we haoles {caucasion strangers} didn’t care much for dried nehu!) Lester having a car