?Six more marlin
records will be discarded, among them Gary Stukes' all-tackle 810-pound
(Atlantic) blue, caught off Hatteras, N.C. two years ago. If that makes Mr.
Stukes sad, think what it will do to Hatterasmen who, in happy tribute to
Stukes' fish and the 300 or so blue marlin caught off Hatteras to date, have
been promoting their village as "The Blue Marlin Capital of the
When the results of
the first day at the U.S.- U.S.S.R. track meet at Los Angeles reached Moscow,
Pravda printed the news in a tiny article on its last page. Soviet radio
carried only fragmentary reports. However, the Ukrainian edition of Sovetski
Sport remarked dryly that even these disorganized bulletins made it clear that
"the events under the blue California sky were not promising anything
pleasant for the Soviet team."
Now the Russian
papers have come around to reviewing the events in Los Angeles in detail. Last
week the readers of Komsomolskaya Pravda opened up to the headline: A BROKEN
TRADITION. It set the tone for many Soviet comments. The line is this:
successive victories, Soviet triumphs in the U.S.- U.S.S.R. meets have come to
be expected. But in 1964, for the first time, the U.S.- U.S.S.R. meet was held
in an Olympic year. The Americans concentrated all effort on winning the meet:
the Russians are looking ahead to the Olympics. Then there were physical
factors like the Los Angeles smog. The natives are conditioned to this mixture
of fog and soot "but our athletes were unaccustomed to it." Pravda
noted soberly. "The boys were gasping for breath during the longer
There was sober
self-criticism, too, and the Russian papers noted some ungrudging praise for
the winners. Pravda said that neither smog nor accidents clouded "the merit
of the American distance men who have achieved great successes in recent
times." Trud observed that Russian women athletes are growing old, that the
greater experience of the Russian men was not enough to counterbalance the
youth of their opponents.
"But perhaps a
certain smugness is an even more serious evil," said Trud, leaving
something for the U.S. winners to ponder on.
On days when the
wind is right—no wind at all, that is—a tiny but dedicated group of Puget Sound
ferry commuters knows just what to do. They go to the nearest dime store, buy a
39� kite and catch the 5:05 or 5:45 ferry home. For the 35 minutes it takes the
ferry to go from Seattle to Bainbridge Island, they fly kites from the stern.
Equipment, as a rule, consists of a salmon or surf-casting reel and perhaps
1,000 feet of 8-pound test monofilament, though a splinter group of purists
holds to the old hand-held ball of string.
Kite-flying from a
ferry is not easy. Traveling at 12 knots, the boat creates a low-pressure area
at the stern that makes it difficult to get a kite into the air. A strong
headwind makes it almost impossible.