Word: hook
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...icthyologist's problem, it is also a fisherman's passion. Ordinary rainbows generally eat flies; the steelie -assuming it is in the mood-eats hardware: spoons, wobblers, plugs, strings of red beads, or just about anything else an imaginative fisherman happens to tie to his hook. It does not rise to the lure like a finicky rainbow, it attacks it enthusiastically-so hard that the pole may literally be torn from an unwary angler's grasp...
...first touch of the hook, enraged steelies will "tail-walk" like marlin, leap like tarpon 5 ft. above the water, run like bonefish-stripping 150 yds. of line off a screaming reel in one lightning burst. They have even been known to rush a boat and leap over the fisherman's head in a frantic effort to escape. The battle may last anywhere from 15 min. to an hour-and steelies get more tricky as they tire. Then they will bulldog to the river bottom and jam their heads in the gravel until the hook rubs...
Experienced fishermen count themselves lucky to land one out of every four steelies they hook. They will spend every winter weekend in a boat or camped on some cheerless river bank in hopes of netting one or two fish. In the old days, they sometimes went all season long without a catch. So popular was the steelhead that there were five fishermen for every fish until Biologist Clarence Pautzke, 57, now chief of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, hit on a new way to restock Washington's rivers. Instead of dumping 1-in. or 2-in. steelhead...
...dark night, with the help of a rope he has woven and a grappling hook he has made, the man at last escapes from the pit. Free! In rapture he races aimlessly among the big black dunes. In horror he feels the sand give way beneath his feet. He has escaped from one pit only to fall into another-a pit of quicksand! "Help!" he screams. "Help!" His life is saved but his freedom is lost; the men who pull him out of the quicksand put him back in the pit. In blank hatred he stares at the sand...
Eddie is a longshoreman. A simple man, he is defined by his function. "I work on the waterfront," he says. He has, with much struggle, raised a niece. She has grown into a beautiful 17-year-old and, had there been a resident psychiatrist in the Red Hook section of Brooklyn, he might have pronounced Carbone a substitute parent, with an unhealthy incestuous fixation...