Tom and Retta Ransom were two of the happiest children in the state, I believe, when told that their summer vacation was to be spent at Catalina Island. To see the wonderful fish that swim in those warm, Southern waters, to watch them through the glass-bottomed boat, to dip out funny sea-flowers with a net, or catch the pretty kingfish and perhaps a “yellowtail,” why, they could talk of nothing else!

How they skipped and danced and chattered about the trip! At last Mamma said, “Well, everything is packed and ready, and we go to-morrow.” Then what fun it was to stand on the steamer’s deck and sail “right out through the Golden Gate,” as Retta said. The big green billows of the Pacific Ocean caught the boat as she crossed the outside bar and tossed salt spray almost into their faces. Little the children cared for the drops of water, for they were so glad to be off on their trip and to say good-by to San Francisco’s summer fog and cold winds for a time.

And there on Seal Rocks, near the Cliff House, were the seals, or rather sea-lions, clumsy creatures like black rubber sacks with fins, or flippers, and a head. Some were lying in the sun and others crawling up the steep, wet rocks. Those highest up were asleep and quiet, but most of them kept barking or growling as they tried to find a sunny place to bask in. Sometimes when frightened these sea-lions will pitch headlong from high rocks into the ocean and dive out of sight at once. Mrs. Ransom said she remembered seeing one that was kept for years in a salt-water tank, and that, although they seem so clumsy, this sea-lion jumped so quick that he caught a fish thrown to him before it touched the water. Once fur-seals were in great numbers off our coast, and lived on the rocks as these sea-lions now do. But Indians, or later on white hunters, killed them, or drove them up north where the crack of the rifle is not heard.

On to the south the steamer sailed through the foaming waters, and as Tom stood watching the white-capped waves go dancing by, he saw, two or three times, a black fin come up, and then another. At last a man said, “Look at the porpoises playing.” Tom screamed with delight as they jumped and chased each other till their black, shiny backs were clear out of water. These fish are sometimes called sea-hogs and are five or six feet long. Either to get their food of small fish, or in play, they keep swimming and diving near the tops of the breakers. Fishermen catch them with a strong hook and use the thick, leathery skin for straps or strings, while they try oil out of their blubber or fat.

All that day and night the boat kept steadily on her way, and the next morning they were in Santa Barbara Channel. It was so pleasant sailing on this summer sea in the soft, warm sunshine that even the sea-sick ladies felt better and came on deck. Mamma agreed with the children that the steamer trip was much nicer than the hot, dusty cars. Just then some one called, “See the whale,” and looking quick Tom and Retta saw what seemed a fountain of water rising high in the air about half a mile away. Soon another went up, and two or three more, for the gray hump-backed whales like this stretch of smooth bay. They are warm-blooded animals and not fish at all, so they must come to the top of the waves for air to breathe. The air and water spout out through “blow-holes” on top of the whale’s head, and rise like steam in the colder air. The children’s mother told them that the whale is the largest of all animals, and that it lives on little jellyfish. It swims with its great mouth wide open and catches all the tiny sea creatures in its path. A fringe of whalebone hangs down from the roof of the whale’s mouth, and he strains the water out through this and swallows the fish. As the boat went on, the children said, “There she blows,” as the sailors do when they see whales spouting in the distance.

Late that night the steamer got to San Pedro, and you may be sure Tom and Retta were up early the next morning. As they came off the boat, there was a crowd of people on the wharf who were pulling in “yellow-tail” as fast as they dropped their lines. This fine fish is a little like a big salmon, but with golden-yellow fins and tail. Its body is greenish gray, with spots of the prettiest rainbow colors, which grow brighter as the fish dies. These fish bite easily, but as soon as caught begin to rush back and forth, fighting and trying to snap the line.

The children here took a smaller steamer for the twenty-mile trip across to Catalina Island, and on the way over they saw a whole “school” of whales and a flight of flying-fishes. Yes, really and truly, these little fish fly or sail through the air, for their fins balance them like a parachute. They skim along ten or twelve feet above the waves, and then drop in the water to rest, taking another flight whenever their enemies, the porpoises, chase them.

How happy the children were to land at the little town of Avalon, and to know that they were to have a month at this beautiful place! They hurried down to the beach and their first choice of amusements was the glass-bottomed boat. These boats have “water-telescopes,” which are only clear glass set in boxed-in places. The glass seems to make the ripples still, so that you can look down, down to the bottom of the ocean, twenty or thirty feet below you.

The boatman rowed the children out in the bay, where the water, now green, now blue, was always clear as crystal. On the rocks and sand at the bottom starfish and crabs crawled slowly along or clung to some stone. The purple sea-urchins, queer round-shelled creatures covered with thorny spines, crowded together, and the ugly toad-fish hid in the green and brown seaweeds. Blue, purple, and rainbow-colored jellyfish floated on top of the waters, while gold perch with red and green sunfish swam through the seaweed “like parrots in some hot country’s woods,” Retta thought. In the shallow places on the rocks those curious sea-flowers, the anémones, looked like pink or green cactus blossoms. The children never tired of the water-telescope in all their stay at the island.

At night the warm ocean waters seemed on fire, since they are full of very tiny, soft-bodied creatures, each of which gives out a faint, glowing light. Every day the fishermen brought in new and strange fishes. The black sea-bass, heavier than the fisherman himself and longer than he was tall, were wonderful, and they could hardly believe that such big fish were caught with a rod and line.

But the leaping tuna pleased Tom the most, since he thought it such fun to watch them jump into the air like silver arrows after the flying-fish. Not so large as the black bass, the tunas are strong enough to tow a boat along when running with a hook. One will drag a heavy launch through the water as if a tug had hold of it, and will fight for hours, rushing and plunging till tired out. Then the fisherman pulls him up to the boat and ends his struggles.

Tom and Retta were fond of watching the curious fish and sea-plants in the glass aquarium tanks on shore also, but their happiest time was when they gathered shells on the beach. They never found out the names of more than those of the limpet, turban, and scallop, though they picked up baskets full of tiny pink and white beauties, all frail and of many kinds. These shells were once the homes of sea mollusks, as such soft, fleshy creatures are called. But to Tom and Retta the shells were only pretty playthings, to be doll’s dishes, or cups, or pincushions, perhaps.

One morning some fishermen saw a shark, and no one dared to go in bathing for a few days. This great, savage, “man-eater” shark does not often come north of the Gulf of California. Sometimes small ones are caught with a hook and line off Catalina Island, and Tom was always glad to see such sea-tigers destroyed.

Of course the children did not want to go home, till at last Mrs. Ransom explained to them that in the ocean and bay near San Francisco there were odd fish and strange animals too. And so it turned out, for in a day’s fishing over at Sausalito Tom caught many silver smelt and tomcod, with flat, ugly flounders, and a red, big-eyed rock-cod. The frightened boy almost fell out of the boat, too, when he pulled in a large sting-ray, or “stingaree,” as the boatman called it. This queer three-sided fish, with a sharp, bony sting in its back, flopped round till the man cut the hook out, knocked its head till it was no longer able to bite, and threw it overboard. These rays have to be fenced out of the oyster-beds along the bay, since they have big mouths full of such strong teeth that they crush an oyster, shell and all, and destroy every one they can reach.

Oysters are grown in great quantities in the oyster-beds along the bay shore. The largest size, which are called “transplanted,” are brought from the East as very small or baby oysters and dropped into shallow water, where they cling to rocks or brush-piles till grown.

Tom also caught a perch, and clinging to it as he drew in his line was a large, hard-shelled, long-clawed crab. Tom put the crab in the basket, knowing well what delicious white meat was in the fellow’s legs and back.

Clams that burrow deep in the mud and may be found at low tide, by digging where their tell-tale bubble of air arises, and the odd shrimps, so good to eat, the children already knew about. Chinese fishermen catch shrimps in nets, dry them on the hillsides, and send both dry meat and shells to China. They dry the meat of the abalone also, and use the beautiful shells, which you have no doubt seen, for carving into curios, or making into jewellery.

A salt-water creature very destructive to shipping and the wharves is the teredo, or ship-worm. This brown inch-long worm lives in wood that is always under water, such as the bottoms of ships and the round piles you see at the wharves. He hollows or bores out winding tunnels in the wood with the sharp edge of his shell until the piles crumble to pieces. This small animal would finally destroy the largest wooden ship if sheets of copper were not put on the sides and keel to protect it.

When Retta saw Tom’s basket of fish she said, “Well, I think the fresh-water fishes much prettier. I am sure the rainbow and Dolly Varden trout with their bright-colored spots, which we saw up in the Truckee River and the mountain lakes last summer, were better to look at and to eat than these sea monsters.” Tom laughed and said, “Oh, that was because you helped to catch some of those. Do you remember the big black-spotted trout we saw in Lake Tahoe? And the little speckled fellows we caught in that clear creek in the redwoods, and how we wrapped them in wet paper and cooked them at our camp-fire? I wish we could go up to the McCloud River, though, and see the baby trout in the fish hatchery there.”

So their mother told them that the tiny trout eggs were kept in troughs with clear, cold water running over them till they hatched out. Then the little things, not half as long as a pin, were placed in large tin cans and sent to stock brooks and lakes, and in a year or so they grew big enough to catch.

The most valuable of our food-fishes is the salmon, a large silvery-sided salt-water fish that takes fresh-water journeys too. For they swim up the rivers every year to lay their eggs in the clear, cold streams, knowing, perhaps, that the salmon-fry, as the young are called, will have fewer enemies away from the ocean. The salmon go over a hundred miles up to the McCloud River to spawn, and will jump or leap up small falls or rapids in their way. Indians spear many of them, but a number go back to the ocean again. Thousands and thousands of ocean salmon are caught along the northern coast and taken to the canneries. There the fish are put into cans and cooked, and when sealed up are sent all over the world. California salmon is eaten from Iceland to India, and its preparation and sale give employment to many people.