SALMON FISHING ON THE LOWER COLUMBIA.
By C. L. SIMPSON.
THE life of a fisherman on the Lower Columbia, particularly if he be a gillnetter, is full of interest and excitement, and not without an element of danger. And though the season is brief the harvest is sure, and more than ordinary wages can be made by the industrious laborer. It is true there are some- times heavy losses incurred. For instance, it is not infrequently necessary for a bar fisherman to cut away half or the whole of his net in order to save his boat or even his life.
Of the several methods of capturing fish on the Columbia, the gillnet is most in favor on the lower river. The large canneries situated at Astoria are supplied almost wholly with fish taken by this means. On the Washington side, from McGowan's cannery at Chinook beach to Seaborg's, at Ilwaco, the numerous traps are the dependency. The Fishermen's Union, with headquarters at Astoria, has a membership of about 5,000, all of whom are gillnetters. Their boats all bear, plainly stamped upon the bow in the form of a circle, the initial letters, C. R. F. P. U., and it is well for non-union men to re- spect this of the organization. The Co- lumbia River Fishermen's Protective Union is a power on the river, and bold indeed is he and reckless of consequences who dares to disregard or oppose it.
So necessary are the gillnet fishermen to the Astoria canneries that should they refuse to fish during the season the busi- ness of the packing houses would come to a standstill, as happened in the case of the great strike three years ago.
Of the 5,000 union men the majority are Russian Finns; Italians come next, and are increasing in numbers from year to year. Very few of either nationality are nat- uralized.
Most of the gillnet fishing is done be- low Astoria, the boats venturing to the very mouth of the river and even out upon the bar.
Down beneath the beetling brow of Cape Disappointment, stretching over a mile parallel to the "channel," is the dreaded and dangerous Peacock spit. When fair weather prevails there is at high tide scarcely a break in the gently undulating swells that heave in from the sea, and lazily wash the beach and the base of the precipitous Washington prom- ontory. An ordinary rowboat in the hands of a skillful oarsman might cross the treacherous shoals with perfect safety. How delusive is this seeming calm! Peacock spit is the terror of the fisherman, and woe to him who finds him- self in its immediate vicinity in time of storm! It is then, or when, on account of recent bad weather far off at sea, white- crested combers springing up suddenly from unknown depths unexpectedly rush in, perpendicular walls of water rise and burst in a thousand cataracts, and the roar of the angry surf is deafening. The "wild white horses" madly charge and trample to nothingness the unlucky mortal who is caught upon their middle ground. Opposite the westernmost point of Sand island Peacock spit gradually disappears, and a considerable reach of deeper water smothers the "break" for a time, or until the wreck of the "Great Republic" shows where the treacherous sands again seek the upper world. To the southward, across the ship channel, commencing some distance beyond the seaward end of the government breakwater, and extending nearly its entire length, a bar has formed since the construction of the jetty. At low tide all three of these spits are plainly visible. To them is due a yearly loss of life and property among the fishermen of the lower river. Owing to the un- common action of the tides, the first- named of these shoals is most to be feared and avoided. But it is just here in the narrow channel bounded by these three white squadrons that millions of salmon crowd in, athirst for the fresh
