as many salmon as their luck allowed and their boats could hold.
But there was one important restriction. From sun-down Saturday
night to sun-up Monday morning, they were not permitted to set a
net. This was a wise provision on the part of the Fish Commission,
for it was necessary to give the spawning salmon some opportunity
to ascend the river and lay their eggs. And this law, with only an
occasional violation, had been obediently observed by the Greek
fishermen who caught salmon for the canneries and the market.

One Sunday morning, Charley received a telephone call from a friend
in Collinsville, who told him that the full force of fishermen was
out with its nets. Charley and I jumped into our salmon boat and
started for the scene of the trouble. With a light favoring wind
at our back we went through the Carquinez Straits, crossed Suisun
Bay, passed the Ship Island Light, and came upon the whole fleet at
work.

But first let me describe the method by which they worked. The net
used is what is known as a gill-net. It has a simple diamond-
shaped mesh which measures at least seven and one-half inches
between the knots. From five to seven and even eight hundred feet
in length, these nets are only a few feet wide. They are not
stationary, but float with the current, the upper edge supported on
the surface by floats, the lower edge sunk by means of leaden
weights,

This arrangement keeps the net upright in the current and
effectually prevents all but the smaller fish from ascending the
river. The salmon, swimming near the surface, as is their custom,
run their heads through these meshes, and are prevented from going