Posted on 01/08/2007 5:47:50 PM PST by Sam Cree
There were many targets of Ernest Hemingways big-game eye, including lions, rhinos, marlin, tarpon and Nazi submarines. Of these "Big Five," only the U-boat eluded his grasp, though one can easily imagine Papas iconic figure posed for a photograph on a Cuban dock with the sub hanging from a boom like a gargantuan, armor-plated tuna.
Named one of the 20th centurys 100 most influential people by Time, Hemingway, after enjoying 75 years of legend status, has become to many an unsavory character the pro wrestler of the sport-fishing world.
Hemingways favorite marlin weapons were Fin-Nor or Vom Hofe reels mounted on Frank OBriens split-bamboo Tycoon rods. His favorite shark weapon was a Thompson submachine gun. In Bimini in 1935, Hemingway fought a mammoth tuna for hours, only to have it butchered by sharks. To the horror of some guests and the delight of others Hemingway dyed the water red by strafing the circling predators with his Tommy gun.
But if Hemingways contributions to deep-sea fishing are measured against his sporting peccadilloes, especially when those transgressions are put in the context of his era, his reputation for plundering nature loses its tarnish.
How good was Hemingway, really? Recently, some fool, apparently drunk on the latest wave of anti-Hemingway sentiment, claimed the author never even boated a marlin. In fact, in 1933 he landed his first big one, 468 pounds, in 65 minutes. In 1935, he won every tournament in the Key West-Havana-Bimini triangle, besting notables like Michael Lerner and Kip Farrington. In 1938, Hemingway caught a world record seven marlin in one day.
Considered an innovator, he was invited to write chapters or introductions for Eugene V. Connetts American Big Game Fishing, Farringtons Atlantic Game Fishing, and Van Campen Heilners Salt Water Fishing. His discussions with Lerner (millionaire owner of womens clothing stores) about the need for an organization to track fishing records led in 1939 to Lerners founding of the International Game Fish Association. Granted one of the initial vice-presidencies of the organization, Hemingway held that cherished position until his death.
In his early 30s, seeking a sea-going craft worthy of his growing status as a literary giant, Hemingway asked Arnold Gingrich, editor of the new magazine Esquire, to advance him $3,300 against some commissioned essays. The custom-made boat from Brooklyns Wheeler shipyard total cost: $7,500 was christened the Pilar, after the Spanish bullfight shrine Our Lady of the Pillar and second wife Pauline Pfeiffer, who used "pilar" as her code name in cables to her still-married future husband.
The 38-footer had six bunks, double rudders, and, with 300 gallons of water and 2,400 pounds of ice, a cruising range of 500 miles. A few years later, a flying bridge with topside controls consisting of pulleys and a car steering wheel was added, along with "outriggers big enough to skip a ten-pound bait."
The vessel, delivered by rail to Miami, was piloted by Hemingway to Key West. After landing a few sailfish, he aimed the Pilar for Cuba in search of marlin, confessing to Gingrich that he felt sorry for interrupting the "chickens*@# sailfish" when he caught them.
Onboard the Pilar, Hem hosted Charles Cadwalader, Director of the Academy of Natural Science of Philadelphia, and chief ichthyologist Henry W. Fowler. The series of fishing trips resulted in a reclassification of marlin for the North Atlantic. In honor of its discoverer, the men named one new species of fish Neomerinthe Hemingwayi (common name, Spinycheek Scorpionfish).
In 1950, Papa organized the first annual Hemingway marlin-fishing competition out of Havana, a contest legitimately won in 1959 by Fidel Castro, as confirmed by guests onboard the Pilar who kept El Presidente under close binocular scrutiny. In a photograph capturing the flavor of that era, Hemingway presents Castro with the silver winners cup, the cultural icons wearing what Papas niece Hilary called "the two most famous beards of their time."
Hemingway is also credited with catching the first large bluefin tuna unmolested by sharks in Bimini waters. To prevent sharks from attacking a weary tuna, Hemingway explained to Farrington, you must "convince" the fish by dominating it, thus bringing it alongside before it reaches exhaustion. "The secret is for the angler never to rest. Any time he rests the fish is resting."
To convince a large fish requires the fisherman to punish himself as well, working until his "muscles are nauseated with the unceasing strain." Profanity helps. To prove his theory, in 1935 Hemingway landed a 786-pound shark in half an hour. Later, he boated a healthy, fair-hooked 130-pound striped marlin in three minutes, saying, "That fish would have taken me nearly an hour a couple of seasons ago."
And that brings up one of Hemingways interesting quirks. He was a quantifier. In a 1933 Esquire article, he reported that from mid-April to mid-July, his group caught 52 marlin, the largest "black," "striped," and white marlin weighing 468, 343, and 87 pounds (in those days, Atlantic blue marlin were often mistaken for black and striped marlin). "The 343-pounder jumped 44 times," he reported. Keeping pathologically detailed ship logs, he was also obsessed with his quarrys leaping ability. One striped marlin, he fastidiously noted, jumped "in a straight line to the northwest, 53 times."
Even Gingrich, in "Horsing Them in with Hemingway," the second chapter of his 1965 book The Well-Tempered Angler, labeled Papa "a meat fisherman" who cared "more about quantity than about quality," a man "more concerned with the capture of the quarry than with the means employed to do it."
But those statements are simply not true. Hemingways interest in pressuring big fish was partly founded on sympathy. An exhausted fish was more likely to be attacked by sharks and less likely to survive if released and he released plenty at a time when it was not a moral imperative to do so.
Sometimes, of course, quantity determines quality. Because if quality werent partly based on quantity, wed all save time, money and sunburns by catching goldfish from a coffee-table aquarium. Hemingways outrage at "sportsmen" hauling in marlin with heavy gear drove him to express to Lerner the need for an organization that would keep categories of records based on the type of equipment used. Gratified by the IGFAs achievement in setting honest, sporting standards, Hemingway wrote in 1949, "Education as to what makes a big fish legitimately caught has . . . progressed steadily. Very few guides or anglers shoot or harpoon hooked fish anymore." And Hemingway played a key role in bringing us to that point.
Despite Hemingways amply documented myth-making about his private life, his sporting integrity was a certainty. During an early Pilar trip, a priest hooked a nine-foot sailfish and fought it until Hemingway reluctantly took over. Still on display at the Miami Rod and Reel Club, the 119-pounder set the Atlantic record one, however, that Hemingway vehemently refused to take credit for. Written by "Eye Witness," the Miami Herald article announcing the record was probably penned by Father McGrath himself.
Regarding the ultimate fairness of the struggle between fisherman and fish, Hemingway asserted, "Of course, it could never be considered an equal contest unless the angler had a hook in his mouth, as well."
It has been claimed that Hemingway never met an animal he didnt want to kill. Regarding land and sea sport, Hemingways thinking seemed to be, "If its big and elusive, bag it." Love, war, drinking, fishing for Hemingway, if something was worth doing, it was worth overdoing. On excursions since boyhood, he shot animals as mere targets herons, sawfish, coyotes and said he would shoot himself "if it came to that."
It did. On July 2, 1961, just before his 62nd birthday, he took his favorite shotgun and tripped both barrels against his head.
The fact is that Hemingway loved animals. Descendants of his famous six-toed cats still prowl the grounds of his Key West home, now a museum, and his Cuban estate, the Finca Vigía (Lookout Farm), where an entire floor of "The Tower" housed nearly 60 felines. His beloved black dog, named Black Dog by the quick-thinking Pulitzer Prize winner, literally slept on Hemingways feet while his master wrote. When Black Dog was killed with rifle butts by Batistas men in 1957, Hemingway was devastated.
How, then, should we judge Hemingways greedy harvesting, and sometimes wasteful slaughter, of fish and other game? Consider Exhibit A, a 1937 photograph of him shooting sharks in Bimini harbor. Before condemning him too quickly, look carefully at the other man about to blast away. Its Michael Lerner.
Although Teddy Roosevelt had left a legacy of conservation before his death in 1919, Hemingway lived at a time when sportsmen were still reassessing their relationship with nature. First and foremost, Hemingway was a humanitarian, emphasis on human. From the peaks of two World Wars, and the valley of the Spanish Civil War between, Hemingway was more concerned with preventing mans inhumanity to man than stopping the wanton killing of "mere" animals. Asking him to be an animal-rights activist in 1940 would be like asking Buffalo Bill to be a vegetarian.
Its also good to keep in mind that the "bad" Hemingway was constructed mainly because that version of him made good press. In fact, he loved mentoring, he was generous to a fault, and he was an exceptional though often-absent father.
Regarding Hemingways hero-sized tantrums (the victims of his fists included Orson Welles and poet Wallace Stevens), its good to remember that practically everything but his bowel movements was publicized and even those when a 1954 safari plane crash left him with a paralyzed sphincter. So he probably had no more outbursts than an average man would have in the unusual situations Papa put himself in discounting those fits late in life when he was not in full control of his mental faculties because of numerous concussions, alcohol abuse and possibly mercury poisoning from eating tons of marine fish over three decades.
A fetish for things German was another of Hemingways peculiarities. He was good friends, and possibly more, with Marlene Dietrich, nicknaming her "The Kraut." Violating wartime laws regarding journalists by moving ahead of American troops, Hemingway helped liberate Paris, then immediately liberated a wine cellar for victory libations. Somewhere between the Normandy coast and the City of Lights he scavenged a belt from a dead soldier and wore it for the rest of his life. The inscription on the buckle read Gott Mit Uns, God With Us.
Then there was that U-boat thing. An obsession, really. During World War II, German submarines roamed U.S. coastal waters, destroying warships and cargo vessels, raiding turtle boats and insular fishing camps for their catch. Too active a man to still-fish for submarines, Hemingway went trolling for them. Supplied by Naval Intelligence with expensive radio equipment, grenades and short-fuse bombs, Hemingway plied the Gulf Stream for months at a stretch, the Pilar disguised alternately as a research or fishing vessel. His strategy was to make his craft an easy target for U-boat crews to plunder for food and fresh water. If a sub pulled alongside, Hemingway planned to toss a bomb down its hatch. Hemingway reported several sightings, but the climax of his one-man war was having a crewmember lob a grenade into the maw of a mako at the end of his line.
Early in the Pilars history, first mate Carlos Gutiérrez told Hemingway the story of an old fisherman who fought a huge marlin on a handline for days before losing it to sharks. What remained of the fish weighed 800 pounds. Hemingway took that storied bait and ran with it 16 years before hooking the Pulitzer Prize with The Old Man and the Sea.
Although years would pass before committing it to paper, Hemingways most popular fish tale might have coalesced in his mind during those long, quixotic pursuits for his biggest quarry, the U-boat. The novels protagonist, Santiago, was modeled on Gutiérrez and his successor, Gregorio Fuentes. Hemingway eventually willed the Pilar to Fuentes, who wisely ceded it to Castros Cuba, allowing himself to live a fabled life and die in 2002, tipping the longevity scales at 104 years proving once again that quality is not always separable from quantity.
Dr. Norman German, fiction writer at Southeastern Louisiana University, is fishing for a publisher for Switch-Pitcher, his baseball novel in which Hemingway smuggles twin Cuban pitchers to the U.S. for a shot at major-league fame. Ed.
Mush better than the alternative. LOL
Buenos nachos.
I agree with you.
I am an avid ready and always have been. My tastes are varied...but i could NEVER get through one of hemmingways books. BORING! long winded and pretentious.
but, to each their own:) I happen to live right by walloon lake which some know was his families vacation spot when he was growing up and was referred to in "farewell to arms".
I knew it. Never could find it.
You're right, I didn't know about the poems.
Please . . . the stuff he actually did do trumps the stuff most people do by a long shot.
I agree. For Whom the Bell Tolls, for example---that sounds like a real action you'd expect to find in a history book.
Fifty Grand.
Doesn't get much better . . . Andre Dubus (RIP) comes close.
Don't forget the Nick Adams stories (as well as other short stories) and one of the best memoirs ever written: "A Moveable Feast." All Hail Hem.
I'm a huge Hemingway fan and I'm a woman. I love all American literature of the first half of the 20th Century. Hemingway was a breakthrough author with his terse, muscular prose.
I'm still hoping that people will come to recognize Thomas Wolfe as one of America's greatest writers (as they did until the 1960s).
Why would anyone bother to teach that? The Garden of Eden was a pure novelty---handwritten (I believe) rough draft sketches from Hemingway's notebooks that were stitched together some thirty-plus years after Hemingway's death by his son. The only possible teaching element you could draw from The Garden of Eden is "yeah, this is what a writer's rough draft looks like."
Sorry, but I believe pissant is right. Two main sorts of people tend to hate Hemingway: (1) women, and (2) artsy-fartsy limp-wristed types who need to destroy the Hemingway myth in order to promote their own introspective, verbose garbage.
I own a first edition. It's absolutely terrible.
"Two main sorts of people tend to hate Hemingway: (1) women, and (2) artsy-fartsy limp-wristed types who need to destroy the Hemingway myth in order to promote their own introspective, verbose garbage."
LOL. Some of those who knew him best suspected Hemingway was an "artsy-fartsy limp-wristed type" who just went out of his way (perhaps too far) to hide it. (Cf Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, Max Eastman, McAlmon his first publisher -- for starters.)
But you forgot another group who hated Hemingway: those who knew him.
Including all of his editors and publishers (Eastman, McAlmon), and his erstwhile "friends," and those who felt he lifted his style and even some of his material from them (Gertrude Stein, Sherwood Anderson)...
For the record I don't hate Hemingway at all. In fact, I even helped to write and produce an international mini-series on him. I just know about him.
I see you can re-heat Wikipedia with the best of them:
Gertrude Stein criticized him in her book The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas, suggesting that he had derived his prose style from her own and from Sherwood Anderson's.
Max Eastman? Sour grapes.
Robert McAlmon? Pissed off because he only got Three Stories and Ten Poems , and not any other.
Zelda Fitzgerald? Give me a break---her own husband knew she was a drunk and a mental patient (see Nicole Diver, et al).
Scott Fitzgerald? It's too bad their friendship ended like it did.
"she was a drunk and a mental patient"
Ahem.
The fact is that there are very few people if any who were friends with Hemingway for long.
Gee, really?
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