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Today the Ala Wai Canal is considered the dirtiest waterway in the state, but 70 years ago plenty of local fishermen plied its waters.
“I remember, as I’m sure others do, the fishermen who used to fish in the canal in the 1950s and ’60s,” Lowell Angell said, “sitting on rickety-looking, makeshift chairs just above the water and a few feet from the Waikiki-side canal bank.
“I guess they got wet wading to the chairs. I have no idea who built or ‘owned’ the chairs, or if they were ‘private,’ or if any fisherman could use them. It’s hard to believe now that anyone would actually eat fish caught in the Ala Wai. Hopefully it was cleaner back then!“
The Ala Wai Canal was completed in 1928. It was an engineering marvel and drained the swamps of Waikiki so it could be developed. Within a few years anglers began testing its waters.
‘Horses’
Several readers shared some of the fishing details with me. Vincent Nishina said his father, Clifford, used to fish on the Ala Wai Canal when he was young. In 2012 he showed author David Nekomoto how it was done.
Clifford Nishina, who was 100 that year, and his friends set themselves up Diamond Head of the McCully Street Bridge and on the mauka side of the canal.
He told Nekomoto that they called their fishing platforms “horses.” “They were named after the venerable carpenter’s sawhorse from which the basic design was derived. Each fisherman built his own horse and placed it in the location of his choice.
“There were certain spots along the canal that were favored over others. They would use a plank to get to and from them.”
When Nekomoto asked Clifford if fishermen could use vacant horses belonging to other anglers, his face wrinkled as he exclaimed, “Oh no! You never used someone else’s horse!”
“So, I guess that was one of the principal rules of etiquette among anglers on the Ala Wai.
“The fashion for fishermen of that day were extensions of the apparel worn by workers in the sugar cane fields: straw hats with wide brims, long-sleeve shirts and trousers, nothing fancy, all geared towards protection from the sun and occasional showers.
“In the way of creature comfort, the horses were outfitted with cushioned seats, footrests and backrests, which were engineered individually to fit the owner.
“The horses had hooks, pegs or nails in strategic locations,” Nishina said, “which served to hang homemade shoulder bags which held tools; tackle; bait; the ‘bento bako,’ or lunch box; and a bottle of water.”
They carried a bag to bring home the catch, and a net, which was suspended in the water to keep the caught fish alive, eliminating the need for coolers and ice during those long, hot days.”
Bread for bait
Ken Murai said, “The fishermen would use a long bamboo or fiberglass pole with bread for bait. The pole was held in curved holders with the front holder under the pole and the back holder on top of the pole.
“When a mullet would bite, the fisherman would push the rear of the pole down, hooking the fish. Catching mullet this way took a lot of patience and talent. Mullets are very light biters. You had to constantly watch the tip of the pole for just a slight dipping of the tip.”
Mullet fishing
“In the early 1950s my dad, Jimmy Tomitagawa, was an avid mullet fisherman,” Jim Tomitagawa Jr. said.
“He selected a prime spot on the Ala Wai, built a wooden ‘horse’ and fished there for several years. There was a circular boulder approximately 18 inches in diameter a few feet in front of his horse. The mullet would swim in circles around the rock, keeping them in front of his horse as opposed to swimming straight past.
“Dad would buy day-old bread at a discount from Love’s Bakery in Kapahulu and use it to chum the water. He would chum almost daily after work regardless of whether he was fishing or not.
“He used a small bamboo pole with a stainless-steel wire tip approximately 8 inches long with a red ‘feather’ at the end.
“I was told that mullet do not bite, but suck on the bait. The skill was in watching the feather and hooking the fish with a swift flick of the wrist.
“Dad was quite successful, as we had mullet for dinner whenever he went fishing. And yes, the water was much, much cleaner then than it is now.”
Started early
“Our fishing days started at 6 a.m.,” Clifford Nishina told Nekomoto, “and ended in time for a leisurely lunch, unless the fish were biting exceptionally well.
“After breaking out the bento bako and enjoying the homemade goodies, the fishermen usually called it a day.
“They walked back in the heat of the day to the Tominaga Okazuya, a storefront restaurant specializing in Japanese takeout food. It was his in-laws’ place of business, near the corner of King and McCully streets, and was an easy walk for a young man in his late 20s, especially when his fish bag was full with a good catch.”
At the okazuya, his father-in-law fried or steamed the fish, and the whole family would usually assemble there each evening for dinner. The nights that featured fresh fish were special, and Clifford Nishina’s catches were enjoyed by all.
“Other species of fish were also caught on the Ala Wai back then, mainly the papio, which becomes an ulua at 10 pounds and larger,” Nekomoto recorded Nishina as saying.
“The favored spot to catch papio was under the McCully Street Bridge, using a shorter pole and live opai, or grass shrimp bait.
“The anglers climbed onto the trusses and pilings (back in those days the bridge was constructed with wood), and found awkward perches among the support structure from which to fish.
“The papio caught there were about as big as a man’s hand, sometimes larger. They were hard fighters, and a fish larger than your hand would give you quite a tussle on a light bamboo hand pole!”
Dec. 7, 1941
Clifford Nishina and his brother-in-law Jimmy were fishing off the River Street Bridge downtown for papio in the morning on Dec. 7, 1941, when terror struck the normal Sunday morning tranquility of Honolulu.
“Their solitude was interrupted by the rude staccato of machine gun fire, and bullets strafing the waters very close to where he was fishing,” Nishina said.
“A low-flying airplane with a red meatball emblazoned on its fuselage was the source of the deadly disturbance.
“Shortly afterwards, police cars raced through the streets with loudspeakers continuously blaring frantic announcements that the island was under attack, and directing all citizens to return to their homes.
“A lot of confusion followed, as the city suffered collateral damage from stray bullets, anti-aircraft rounds and bombs, which peppered the city with shrapnel and other explosive components. Close to his home, a woman who lived only a few doors away from the okazuya was killed by a stray round.”
Following the horrific events at Pearl Harbor, martial law was declared and food and supplies were rationed. Clifford Nishina’s ability to catch fish for his family played an important role in their subsistence during the lengthy war in the Pacific.
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Bob Sigall is the author of the five “Companies We Keep” books. Send your comments, suggestions or questions to Sigall@Yahoo.com.
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