The Giant Fish of Florida — A Reader’s Guide
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The catalog record for The Giant Fish of Florida — A Reader’s Guide provides practical reading context through 19,677 words, 1 hr 26 min estimated reading time, and 4 detected text sections.
The text analysis averages about 23.9 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.
Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Fishing -- Florida,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.
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these jewfish have enormous power of resistance so long as they sulk at the bottom, which they do as if they were rocks. I have watched a man fighting with a 350-lb. jewfish, which he eventually succeeded in killing, though not without a severe tussle, which taxed his patience and his tackle in no small degree.
For a long time we thought he was playing a rock, after the manner dear to “Dibbler,” so little did the object in which the hook was fast seem to yield to his persuasions, and it was only the fact of his being too old a hand to be taken in by any such makebelieve that convinced us that big game was really in question. For a good twenty minutes hard pulling he cannot have moved that jewfish through more than fourteen feet of water, and all his labour would seem to be undone next moment, for the monster simply sinks to the bottom again and is doubtless trying to cut his line against some sharp coral edge. Yet his skill and patience have not in fact been thrown away, for the great fish is tiring. The next steady strain brings it appreciably nearer to the surface, and at last, after a giant’s contest lasting fully two hours, the three hundred and odd pounds of fish float blown and helpless on the top of the water, the vanquished monster looking more like a barrel than a fish.
Like most ground-hugging species, the jewfish, once brought to the top, is inflated and helpless. His one hope is in the razor-edges of the coral, and well he knows how to turn these, where available, to account. If he is caught, it is because he has inadvertently wandered far from his natural defences, and cannot risk a sudden haul from above by an attempt to regain them. A ponderous perch-like fish, he is known in many southern and sub-tropical seas, and is a favourite object of sport, like his ally, the grouper, all round the Australian coasts.
It is just possible, of course, to reckon too securely on this helplessness of jewfish when hauled to the surface, for an occasional captive may put forth exceptional efforts to regain its liberty. Thus, I recollect a case in which one of 300 lb. was lost by a lady through too great reliance on this usual collapse, for the fish was made fast by the line close alongside the boat, and was being towed ashore, when it made a sudden dash for freedom and went down like a stone.
Like most of the other great fish of those waters, the jewfish is troubled with suckers, and in the photograph facing this page may be seen a sucker of about 1 lb. adhering to the side of a 400-lb. jewfish. So close do these uninvited guests cling by means of their sucking apparatus on the head, that only a quick leap (which the jewfish, by the way, cannot manage) and a sudden twist in the air dislodges them. I have seen sharks leap out of water and throw them off in showers. The only thing that will tempt a sucker from its comfortable position is a small and suitable bait dangled near it. Thus lured, it will frequently swim away from its host, and allow itself to be caught.
The scales of the jewfish are somewhat curiously formed, and those of sufficiently active imagination profess to see in the centre of each an accurate and unmistakable full length portrait of the Virgin Mary. Many, however, will, I venture to predict, look for this in vain.
J. Turner-Turner opens The Giant Fish of Florida by placing his subject firmly in the realm of big-game hunting at sea, comparing the pursuit of tarpon and Gulf rangers to the land-based sport familiar to British anglers. The preface immediately establishes a practical, first-hand tone: the author has fished these waters, and his notes are drawn from direct experience rather than exhaustive natural-history catalogues. He credits Mr. F. G. Aflalo for arranging the manuscript and highlights the book’s 48 illustrations, all taken from natural (not mounted) fish using a careful arrangement of pegs and sheeting. This emphasis on photographic authenticity—combining the impressions of brush and camera—signals that the work values visual evidence as much as written instruction.
A Preface That Sets the Angler’s Agenda
The preface is more than a courtesy; it frames the entire volume as a selective, sporting-focused companion. Turner-Turner explicitly declines to compile an exhaustive list of Florida sea fish, directing readers to Jordan and Evermann’s authoritative works instead. He names only those fish likely to attract an angler’s notice, and treats them from a sporting rather than a natural-history perspective. This deliberate narrowing means the reader should expect practical advice on tackle, technique, and quarry behavior, not encyclopedic taxonomy. The author also acknowledges that many visitors fish exclusively for tarpon, missing opportunities on rougher days—a hint that the book will advocate for variety. The mention of Mr. Grenfell’s tunny fishing in the Mediterranean further situates the work within a transatlantic sporting conversation, suggesting that Florida’s giants are part of a larger big-game tradition.
Harpooning the Loggerhead Turtle
Chapter VIII offers a detailed, step-by-step account of spearing loggerhead turtles, revealing the author’s methodical approach. He distinguishes the loggerhead from the rarer green turtle and the leathery species, and stresses the importance of a small, sharp harpoon when switching from rays to turtles. The narrative is rich with practical warnings: stand motionless in a slight lop, creep up without noise, and resist the urge to strike too early. The most favorable moment is when you are closest to the quarry. Turner-Turner describes the turtle’s behavior—it may stay submerged for twenty minutes—and advises a second strike if the first seems shallow. The passage culminates in a vivid caution: a heavy loggerhead once drove an oar through the boat’s bottom, discovered only when the craft was a third full of water. Such anecdotes ground the instruction in real mishaps, reinforcing the need for careful preparation.
Photographs as Evidence of the Catch
Throughout the excerpts, the author returns to the photographs as a point of pride. He claims they are “the most remarkable in their own way” that Mr. Aflalo had ever seen, achieved by arranging pegs and sheeting to support natural fish. This technical detail—using the natural, not mounted, specimen—suggests a commitment to documentary realism. The images are not merely decorative; they serve as proof of the fish’s size and form, complementing the written descriptions. For a first-time reader, the illustrations likely function as a visual field guide, helping to identify species like the whip ray leaping or the loggerhead turtle swimming. The author’s insistence on their correctness, combining the impressions of both brush and camera, indicates that he saw the photographs as integral to the book’s instructional value, not as afterthoughts.
Voice and Structure: The Guide as Companion
Turner-Turner’s prose is direct and conversational, addressing the reader as “you” throughout the turtle chapter: “you must get in the way of standing motionless,” “you think that it did not penetrate very far?” This second-person address creates the sense of a seasoned mentor speaking to a novice. The structure is chronological, moving from preparation to execution to aftermath, with digressions for safety tips. The author does not shy from admitting uncertainty—he notes that instinct is probably correct about a shallow strike—and offers the benefit of the doubt as a legitimate tactic. The closing anecdote about the oar-driven hole in the boat is told with dry humor (“the turtle had most of the fun to itself”), leavening the technical detail. For a reader new to the subject, this blend of instruction and anecdote makes the material accessible without sacrificing precision.
Readers approaching The Giant Fish of Florida for the first time will find a compact, purpose-driven manual that prioritizes practical know-how over academic breadth. The excerpts suggest that the book rewards attention to its procedural details—the correct harpoon for each quarry, the timing of strikes, the stowing of oars—as much as to its vivid descriptions of the Gulf environment. The photographs, though not reproduced in this digital edition, are clearly central to the author’s method of instruction. To get the most from the text, read the preface as a key to the author’s selective approach, and treat each chapter as a self-contained lesson that builds toward a fuller understanding of Florida’s giant fish.
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