Old Missoula

Chinatown Has Big Fish Dinner

Quong Wah Tom Is The Boss Fisherman, For He Catches The Huge Trout.

If anybody is giving out prizes for big fish this season, let him hand the trophy to Quong Wah Tom, a Chinaman whose home is on Front street. Then, too, other ambitious sportsmen who are striving for honors with the rod and reel may as well quit. Quong Wah Tom has established a record. He has caught a bull trout that weighs a trifle over 14 pounds. Chinatown had the fish for chop suey last night and it was said to be excellent. Take a big bull trout and cook in the Chinese way, with a little dish of some weird and wonderful sauce on the side, and you have something worth while. It is a dish that would make old Epicurus envious, no doubt.

Quong Wah Tom is a tub trundler in a laundry when he is working. He was not working yesterday, so he went fishing. There was nothing stylish about his outfit; a good strong line of Chinese silk and a stout pole and a hook that would land a tarpon comprised his paraphernalia. Also he had a large amount of hope.

He walked down the Missoula river toward the Bitter Root bridge and selected a place where the sewer empties into the stream to cast his line.

He attached a large piece of meat to his hook and with a devout prayer to the sacred carp of the Yangste Kiang river, he waited for bites. He had not long to wait, for a big, fat bull trout, the like of which has seldom been seen in the river, swallowed the bait, hook and all. Quong Wah Tom gave a jerk, but the fish didn’t budge. Instead the huge gamester gave a swish of its tail and a yank of his head and the pole was snapped off close to the astonished Chinaman’s hand.

“Gow ung to ong tsue,” called the Chinaman to his fellow countrymen who were watching him from a distance. “Sowie pow chup.”

It was plain enough to the other Chinamen that Quong Wah Tom needed help. Liberally translated his words meant: “Come here at once, I have a big fish.” Any Chinaman knows that.

The pole, propelled by the infuriated fish, started off down stream and fully 10 excited celestials were in hot pursuit. They were in full cry, as one might say, and their talk sounded like dropping shot into a dishpan.

“Kip gow gee, ung luie pock,” they shouted and ran and waded into the river until every one of them was soaking wet. Fully a quarter of a mile they ran, falling, wading and scrambling over the ripples in the icy water. On a sandbar far below the Bitter Root bridge Quong Wah Tom overtook the fish. The big fish was a bit tired and the pole acted as an anchor at times. It was certainly hard going for that fish and the crowd of yelling Chinamen close behind it did not add much to the gayety of the occasion. When the fish was captured it was found that it had been securely hooked and the barb was removed with considerable difficulty.

There was a good deal of excited Chinese talk among them as they went back to Front street, showing their fish to whomever happened to be passing. Arriving at Quong Wah John’s place, who by the way is a half brother of Tom’s, they cut the prize in shares. Last evening nearly every Chinaman had a fish dinner.

The above article appeared in The Daily Missoulian on April 18, 1906.

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