The copper line used is generally a 6 oz. for 100 feet, and the length is adjusted to the places in which the fisherman wishes to operate.
Let us, for a short time, watch the would-be angler. Women are often far more eager than men. The hotels of Tahoe keep their own fishing-boats. The larger ones have a fleet of twenty or more, and in the season this is found insufficient for the number who wish to try their hand and prove their luck. Often great rivalry exists not only in securing the boatmen who have had extra good luck or displayed extraordinary skill, but also between the guests as to the extent of their various “catches.” When a boatman has taken his “fare” into regions that have proven successful, and does this with frequency, it is natural that those who wish to run up a large score should try hard to secure him. This adds to the fun—especially to the onlookers.
The boat is all ready; the angler takes his (or her) seat in the cushioned stern, feet resting upon a double carpet—this is fishing de luxe. The oarsman pushes off and quietly rows away from the pier out into deep water, which, at Tahoe varies from 75 feet to the unknown depths of 1500 feet or more. The color of the water suggests even to the tyro the depth, and as soon as the “Tahoe blue” is reached the boatman takes his large hand-reel, unfastens the hook, baits it with minnow and worm and then hands it to the angler, with instructions to allow it to unreel when thrown out on the port side at the stern.
At the same time he prepares a second hook from a second reel which he throws out at the starboard side. At the end of each copper line a few yards of fish-cord are attached in which a loop is adjusted for the fingers. This holds the line secure while the backward and forward pulls are being made, and affords a good hold for the hook-impaling “jerk” when a strike is felt. While the “angler” pulls on his line the boatman slowly rows along, and holding his line on the fingers of his “starboard” hand, he secures the proper motion as he rows.
Then, pulling over the ledges or ridges between shallow and deeper, or deeper and deep water, he exercises all his skill and acquired knowledge and experience to enable his “fare” to make a good catch. As soon as a strike is felt and duly hooked he sees that the line is drawn in steadily so as not to afford the fish a chance to rid itself of the hook, and, as soon as it appears, he drops his oar, seizes the net, and lands the catch to the great delight of his less-experienced fare.
Many are the tales that a privileged listener may hear around the fisherman’s night-haunts, telling of the antics of their many and various fares, when a strike has been made. Some become so excited that they tangle up their lines, and one boatman assures me that, on one occasion a lady was so “rattled” that she finally wrapped her line in such a fashion around both elbows that she sat helpless and he had to come to her rescue and release her.