At this point, Grey could not imagine that fate had worse in store for him, but a week later, he suffered a setback that was even more disheartening. Grey initiates his account of this tragedy with another large black marlin that refuses his bait and attacks Mitchell’s. When Mitchell realizes what is about to happen, he wisely passes his rod to his frustrated boss who seizes it and quickly strikes. Just as the fish is solidly hooked, the boatman mistakenly pushes the throttle to full-speed reverse, creates slack in the line, and then severs it with the boat’s propeller. “What a pang tore my breast!” Grey blurts. “I was frantic in protest against such horrible sudden misfortune” (111). Mitchell worries that Zane’s misfortune and misery could cost him his job, and is as frantic as his boss for a change in luck. When another black marlin stalks his bait, Mitchell again hands his rod over to Zane, who settles into the fighting chair, positions himself, and slowly tightens the line. The fish’s belligerent response initiates an epic battle that consumes thirteen pages. Grey’s reel comes off his rod three different times, but he is able to refasten it each time without losing the fish. The great fish sounds a thousand feet and nearly exhausts his rod’s resilience, but Zane finally triumphs.
Grey’s 704-pound black marlin was only midway between the two that Mitchell caught, but it concluded his ordeal. A final excursion to Poor Knights Islands, twelve miles off the mainland coast, verified that his luck had indeed changed. The group arrived during a run of marlin, and over the course of a single day Mitchell caught five, while Zane hooked twelve and landed four. Grey captioned his photograph of their combined catches “World Record Catch for One Day.”51 Next, Zane landed a 450-pound striped marlin that gained him another world record and raised his marlin score to forty, happily placing him twenty ahead of Mitchell.52 During the final week, he caught a 111-pound yellowtail that set another world record and placed him ahead of Mitchell in another category. “I thought gleefully of how thoroughly I had Captain Mitchell’s eighty-pounder beaten,” he proclaimed. “A little consolation was coming to me late!” (138).
Unfortunately, Grey’s revived pride brought him other problems. In characteristic fashion, he aggressively publicized his success. Before his return to Auckland, where large celebrations were scheduled to honor him, local newspapers devoted extensive coverage to his new world records and offered prominently displayed photographs of his catches. Locals unaccustomed to press coverage of fishing perceived Grey as grandstanding and were offended. As one reported:
He runs his fishing on circus lines. When he caught a swordfish he announced through a megaphone in grandiloquent tones, “Mr. Zane Grey has caught another swordfish: weight 273 lbs,” as the case might be. Then there would be run to the mast head a pennant with “swordfish” printed on it.
One Australian who regarded the procedure as swank, announced, when he caught a swordfish, that it weighed 6,000 pounds and in the place of the pennant ran up to the mast head his pajama pants instead.53
During his interviews with Auckland newspapers, Grey agreed to write a series of articles about his experiences for the New Zealand Herald. He considered this a gesture of goodwill, but he was so appalled by the primitive tackle and fishing tactics of New Zealanders that he could not resist castigating them: “The New Zealand angler, when he got a bite, merely held his rod up and let the boatman run the boat in the direction the fish wanted to go. He did not strike the fish hard, as we do. He did not bend the rod, or pump the fish hard as we do. He followed the fish out to sea, and several hours later returned with or without the fish, mostly without.”54 These observations were meant to be enlightening and helpful, but Grey did not recognize the condescension in his presumed expertise or anticipate the offense that it would cause. Letters of complaint poured into the Herald.
During this controversy, Alma Baker felt pressured to write letters to the newspapers defending Grey. Presenting himself as “the chief cause of Mr. Grey’s visit,” he sought to downplay the matter as an unfortunate misunderstanding arising from cultural differences.55 Early in their stay at the Bay of Islands, long before the controversy, Baker sensed Grey’s competitiveness and warily elected to camp and fish elsewhere.56 As the force behind Grey’s official invitation, Baker agreed to be with him more after the excursion to the Bay of Islands. Since government officials wanted Grey’s visit to spotlight the country’s resources for tourism, he and Baker were escorted by dignitaries to such attractions as the Waitomo Caves, the thermal geysers, and historic sites near Rotorua. Grey feigned interest in these, but was not animated until he was introduced to the country’s freshwater fishing on Lake Taupo and the Tongariro River. Grey, Mitchell, and Baker all caught trout over eleven pounds and many more in the six- to eight-pound range. Away from saltwater and the prospect of record fish, Zane was more relaxed and better company. The earlier controversy, however, kept locals alert to his faults, and stories circulated of guides being sent ahead to hold holes for Grey and of his attempts to purchase prime stretches of revered streams.57 Sincerely flattered by the many New Zealanders who turned out to see him and to do all they could to make his visit special, Grey ignored this carping and tried harder to get along.
By the summer of 1926, Grey had returned to the United States and immersed himself in promotion of his New Zealand achievements. He again contacted Van Campen Heilner, informed him about the country’s sensational fishing, and offered some specimens for exhibition at the Museum of Natural History. Grey explained that his collection of mounted fish had outgrown his storage space and proposed to donate it in the belief that a museum display would interest and educate visitors. Having been appointed field representative in the Department of Ichthyology the year before, Heilner was enthusiastic about Grey’s offer and after conferring with superiors, wrote back:
Was delighted to get your letter. Would like to hear some of the details of your fishing. Can you give me the dimensions of Mitchell’s big marlin? What a wow! of a fish that was!
In re. your fishes, the Museum will be delighted to get them. I will see that you get the entire end of the Fish Hall. This is the best position as it commands the entrance to the great Roosevelt Memorial Hall, soon to be constructed. As far as humanly possible the entire collection will be kept together. … You will be well pleased. It is the rightful place for your collection—the Museum will treat you right and it will be a fine thing for both of you. Thousands will see them that might not otherwise and they will be preserved for posterity.58
From his close association with Heilner, Grey had advance knowledge of planning for a new Hall of Fishes. He knew that his collection would make a handsome exhibit and greatly reduce the cost of purchasing specimens for the new hall. Realizing that a major exhibit could strengthen his position at the museum, Heilner encouraged Grey to contribute as many specimens as possible and persuaded the board that his collection would offer a unique sampling of the world’s game fish. Over the past two years, Zane had caught and preserved many strange fish, like his exotic rooster fish from South America, along with seven that either were or had been world records.
Three weeks after Heilner’s enthusiastic response, Grey increased his world records to eight. On July 2, 1926, he landed a 582-pound broadbill near Catalina. After two years of mounting frustration as anglers from the Tuna Club broke the existing record, he was finally able to claim the largest Xiphias gladius. Predictably, the Tuna Club refused to recognize his catch because his 39-thread line exceeded regulation limits. A brief announcement of the catch, hurried into the July 7 issue of the Catalina Islander, stated that the next issue would carry Grey’s account of the battle, but it did not.59 Although the newspaper ran a photograph of Grey and his fish on the front page, there was no article.60 Neither Grey nor the newspaper wanted more controversy over whether the catch was legitimate. Grey believed that he would get better publicity by adding his broadbill to his museum exhibit. There, far more people would learn about his impressive catch.
Meanwhile, Grey hoped his upcoming tri
ps would furnish more specimens for the exhibition, which was currently scheduled for the fall of 1928. His second trip to New Zealand over the first five months of 1927 included a two-month stay in Tahiti. Again Mildred and Mitchell accompanied him, but this time he also took R. C., Reba, and Romer. Zane’s inclusion of him on this trip prevented Romer from starting college, and he never bothered to attend after he returned. Unfortunately, the forty-two days of stormy weather created impossible conditions and the only significant catch of the trip was a 640-pound thresher shark that Zane initially believed to be much smaller and allowed Romer to land.
Zane countered his disappointment over the New Zealand visit with hopes that Tahiti might bring him better fishing. Grey had intensely disliked Papeete, when his steamship stopped there on his trips to New Zealand. He objected to the easy availability of drink and women, believed that the romantic image of Tahiti had turned both natives and visitors into derelicts, and wished he could avoid the island. But when he subsequently learned about Tahiti’s extensive reef formations, he speculated that their large concentrations of bait fish would attract large game fish. His research uncovered rumors of bizarre swordfish whose bill grew from the lower jaw, and of a shark that killed its prey by sucking out its blood. He also discovered an article in Harpers about Tahiti by Charles Nordoff, the coauthor of Mutiny on the Bounty, who had been living there for years. Nordoff’s response to Grey’s letter of inquiry assured him that Tahitian waters did indeed hold big fish and convinced him to try fishing there.
Unfortunately, the inclement weather and poor fishing in New Zealand so discouraged R. C. and his wife that they chose to forego Tahiti and head back to California. Zane was too committed to back out; both Nordoff and the refurbished Fisherman were awaiting his arrival.61 At the outset of Tales of Tahitian Waters (1931), Grey caused considerable misunderstanding about this first visit to Tahiti by carelessly stating that he had arrived in Papeete on May 30, 1928 (instead of 1927). Though this was his fourth time in Tahiti as he claims, his previous visits had been brief layovers. On the other hand, he was forthright and accurate in acknowledging that the fishing was disappointing. Both Grey and Mitchell sighted and hooked promising fish, but they landed only nine midsized marlin, the first ever taken in Tahitian waters. Grey left believing that he had come at the wrong time and that the prospects for big fish were much better during the fall months.
Although these trips failed to produce any additions, the exhibit of Grey’s fish at the American Museum of Natural History opened in December 1928. Grey’s mounted fish filled two entire walls and were impressively lit. One showcase contained barracuda, sailfish, and grouper, and was topped by the smaller of his giant tuna from Nova Scotia. The opposite wall displayed his 582-pound broadbill positioned at the center, and his yellowtail from Cabo San Lucas pursued a flying fish off to the right, though both had by then been surpassed as world records. Zane’s world-record tuna from Nova Scotia was located so as to invite comparison with his broadbill. Grey’s 702-pound black marlin and his 2,000-pound “ocean sun fish” (harpooned in Tahiti) were also displayed. In its account of the new Hall of Fishes, the New York Times offered a secondary headline “Exhibit of Trophies of Zane Grey, author, Includes Catches in All Parts of the World,” and characterized his collection as “one of the largest and most interesting exhibits in the new wing for the average visitor.”62 Another article about the collection by Francesca La Monte, a museum curator, stressed that the game fish “were caught in a sportsman-like way, with tackle strong enough to subdue the fish, and not to break off a number of hooked fish in an endeavor to catch one on a lighter tackle.” Two months before the show opened, the October 1928 issue of Field and Stream came out with an updated list of world records and that cited Grey for his catches of dolphin, striped marlin, tuna, and yellowtail.63 This exhibit of Grey’s fish at one of America’s foremost museums and in the city of greatest cultural influence effectively validated his preeminence as the country’s most accomplished saltwater fisherman. During this same year, it is worth noting, Ernest Hemingway visited Key West and tried saltwater fishing for the first time.64
Grey did not attend the opening of the exhibit because he was back in Tahiti. His stay from July to December 1928 proved to be even more trying than the year before, perhaps his worst fishing trip ever. For this visit, Grey commissioned Collins and Bell in Auckland to build him two new launches, each thirty-four feet long. Since both were too large to be carried aboard the Fisherman, he had them freighted to Papeete and motored around the island to the remote, outlying islands he wanted to explore. Two months of determined searching and experimentation did not produce a single bite. To his dismay, Grey learned that the information from his previous trip was erroneous, and he had again arrived too soon for the best fishing. “We were deceived about the time to come here,” Zane complained to Dolly. “Oct., Nov., Dec., were drummed into us last year. As a matter of fact, Dec., Jan. & Feb. are the months. That upset me much.”65 Torrential rains worsened the situation, and they were accompanied by an outbreak of influenza that killed many natives and gravely sickened several members of Grey’s group. Finally, on November 14, after eighty-three days without catching a fish worth mention, Zane successfully landed a 464-pound striped marlin that bettered his own world record, the 450-pound striped marlin from New Zealand.66
This catch solidified Grey’s commitment to Tahiti. Near the end of his previous visit, he had stopped at Flower Point in the southeastern corner of the island where his group camped for several days on an overlook of the ocean that was surrounded by a cloud-garlanded, heavily foliaged range of high peaks. In his Tales of Tahitian Waters, he judged this area to be “the most beautiful part of a beautiful Tahiti” (48) and used it as his base camp for the 1928 visit. While he was there, he negotiated purchase of a sixteen-acre plot of land and arranged construction of cottages, dining hall, cook cabin, and a power station.67
This purchase and his two new launches were part of a 1928 spending spree that rivaled the one in 1920. During his summer visit, he launched an ambitious program of renovations to the rude dwellings on his Winkle Bar property in Oregon. In September, Dolly purchased a 160-acre grapefruit orchard in Indio, California, that was renamed the Flying Sphinx Ranch. While he was in Tahiti, Dolly and Ed Bowen built Zane a lavish new office at his Altadena residence.68 This two-story addition, known as the east wing, was connected to the main building by a narrow hallway. The ground level was used as an enormous storage area, and the upper level contained a spacious two-room den area measuring forty-eight by seventy-five feet. The first room served as a library for Zane’s books and Indian artifacts, relocated there from the much smaller room downstairs that Lillian had ornamented with Hopi figures. The larger area beyond, intended for writing, featured some of his favorite memorabilia, including a large hand-painted photograph of the Rainbow Bridge above the fireplace. The dark, exposed, rough-hewn ceiling beams that supported the roof gave the rooms a lodgelike atmosphere and were major items in the overall high cost of $28,000.
Another even larger expense was a new house in Altadena that Grey financed for Mildred Smith. She had accompanied Zane on all his trips to the South Seas, and during the second voyage to New Zealand in 1927, young Romer wrote his mother:
I was just thinking. Honest! And this is what I was thinking about—
Dad is too clear minded to realize what people think about him dragging friend Millicent [an alternative name Zane gave Mildred] all over the way he does—and I am wondering if you hadn’t better put him wise. Good Lord what else could they think—the majority of people?
In his innocence he makes some awful brodies. His and M. K. S.’s cabins in the steamship always across the hall from one another; always next to him at the table; the way she talks; her actions as hostess to visitors; imagine his secretary with some airs. It would be a miracle if people believed the truth. They would always think the worst.69
Mildred Smith’s Altadena residence that Zane Grey finan
ced, ca. 1928. (Courtesy of Loren Grey.)
Dolly sent the letter back to Zane along with a note stating, “This is a very sincere tribute to you from your son. I’m glad he thinks this way about you. If only he knew how often I had told you! After much deliberation, I decided to send you this.”70 Though she sometimes felt threatened by Zane’s closeness to Mildred, she worried as much about the relationship’s volatility and instability.
One major source of friction between Zane and Mildred was their literary collaboration. Over the many years of typing and editing his manuscripts, Mildred harbored intense longings to be a writer too. Realizing that she was as needy and as insecure as he was when he started, Zane encouraged and helped her. After she completed a novel entitled White Harvest during their trip to Nova Scotia, he tried unsuccessfully to place it with a publisher for her. In support of her efforts, he collaborated with her on a series of plays—Three Tight Lines, The Courting of Stephen, Ports of Call, and Amber’s Mirage. This close interaction, combined with her failure to achieve any success, made Mildred both more critical of Zane’s work and less sure of her own. A 1927 letter from Zane to Dolly illuminates the tension that resulted:
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