i SIDNEY
WWRIGHT,
THE ROMANCE OF
THE WORLD’S FISHERIES
A DREADED CATCH
The conger eel is a dangerous fish on board a small boat. If it once gets a hold ot
a man’s leg, it is impossible to make it disengage its teeth. Even when its head is cut
off, its mouth must be prised open.
THE ROMANCE OF
THE WORLD’S FISHERIES
INTERESTING DESCRIPTIONS OF
THE MANY & CURIOUS METHODS
OF FISHING IN ALL PARTS OF
THE WORLD
BY
SIDNEY WRIGHT
WITH TWENTY-FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS
PHILADELPHIA
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
LONDON: SEELEY & CO. LimiTEpD
1908
ey u
MN
peace iter
fe |
c
ANIA: “ae
CaN Bur, 42 pan Z
PREFACE
N an account of the world’s fisheries it is impossible
to use the word “fish” only in its strictly scientific
meaning; for what are everywhere known as “ fish-
eries” include the taking of many creatures which are not
really fish, Whaling, sealing, turtle-catching, and pearl-
diving must necessarily have a place in the following
pages.
Little attempt has been made to treat the subject from
the commercial or industrial point of view. The author
has rather endeavoured to give an animated picture of
the fisherman’s life, of his methods, his hardships and
adventures, his disappointments, and his hardly won
successes, The best authorities have been consulted, but
many of the details are drawn from the author’s own
experience.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTORY
Fishing an occupation to which uncivilised man would naturally
turn—Seasons and preferences—Other products of the sea
besides fish—A few words on fishing from a historical point
of view
CHAPTER II
THE FISHERMAN’S TOOLS
Various means of obtaining fish—The push-net—Rod and line—
Bait—Means of getting nearer to the fish—The raft—The
open boat—The smack—Tackle used in boat-fishing—Long
lines and hand lines—Trawls, drift-nets, seines, moored nets,
and dredges—Pots—Another important item: experience—
The fascination of the fisherman’s calling 6 ° <
CHAPTER III
TRAWLING
“Off” with the boats—The start—The fisherman's attitude
towards strangers—An East Coast trawler—The net—The
fisherman at sea—Shooting the trawl—Special ‘‘ catches "—
The net hauled up—Where the hard work comes in—The
steam carrier—What is done with the catch—Steam-trawling
—Little private ventures : . , .
CHAPTER IV
SHRIMPING, MUSSELLING, AND LINE-FISHING
Shrimps—The push-net—On board a Dutch visschers-boot—
Dutch fishermen—Preparations for boiling—Hauling up the
shrimp-net—Emptying—The catch—Sorting—’Ware crabs!
—And fox-fish—Boiling—Hot shrimps—Danger of the trade—
Prawns and prawn-catching—Mussels—What becomes of
9
PAGE
17
22
30
CONTENTS
PAGE
them all—Transplanting—Mussels by the barge-load—Line-
fishing—Hand lines—Long lines—Ready-baited hooks—Pay-
ing out the lines—‘‘ Bending-on”—Two or three miles of
lines—Bringing in the catch—Longer lines—“ Bulters” nae
CHAPTER V
SALMON-FISHING AS AN INDUSTRY
The salmon—Annual migration—Jumping—Spawning—Fry,
smolt, and grilse—The Columbian grounds—Trap-nets—
Seines—Hauling in by horse-power—The fish-wheel—Salmon-
fishing among the Indians—Canadian moored gill-nets—
Scandinavian fishery—The Sogne and Hardanger fjérds—
Natural salmon-traps—Seines and net-weirs—Lapps and
Finns as fishers—The sea-swallow—Salmon-netting at home
—Close time—Stake-nets and stow-nets : - 59
CHAPTER VI
FISHING AS A SPORT
Angling — Salmon - fishing — Tackle — Ireland and Norway —
Piscator fit, non nascitur—Casting—A real bite—A long
spell of hard work—“ Sulking "—Gaffing—Fishing in the
Jotunfeld— High jumpers—To America for sport—The tarpon
—Tarpon tackle—A nasty sea—A big leap—Towed em
Fairly hooked—Sharks !—Other sport 4 oeegs
CHAPTER VII
THE COD-FISHERY (1)
The Breton ‘‘Icelanders’—Seeing the fleet off—A_ twelve-
hundred-mile voyage in a cockle-shell—Life on board—
Iceland in sight—Cod-fishing—An average catch—A big
catch in a calm—Cleaning and salting—Breaks in the
monotony—Homeward bound - ‘ A Pieaakelo)
CHAPTER VIII
; THE COD-FISHERY (11)
The American cod-fishery—The Newfoundland Banks—Dory
work— Hand-line fishing —Drawbacks to it—French trawling
—No piracy allowed—Pulling up the trawl—Clearing and
rebaiting—Cleaning and drying—The gill-net—Its special
utility—Its mechanism 0 : : 2 - 100
10
CONTENTS
CHAPTER IX
THE OYSTER
Where the oyster is, and is not, found—The Essex and North
Kent ‘‘flats” — Development — Re-stocking the beds —
‘*Brood”—A day of a dredger’s life—Description of the
dredge—Hauling up—The oyster’s companions in the dredge
—Its enemies—Measuring up the ‘‘wash”—The collecting
boat—Other kinds of oysters—Typhoid! : 5
CHAPTER X
UNITED STATES FISH AND FISHERMEN
The States fishermen—The “‘ foreigners” —The spring mackerel-
fishing—The ‘‘purse-seine”—Fishing by night—How the
net is cleared—Shore-weirs—Line-fishing for mackerel—
The herring—The mullet—A big catch—The ‘‘red snapper”
—Other American fish . . : . :
CHAPTER XI
THE BRITISH HERRING-FISHERY
The herring — The lugger — Night-work — Signs ! — ‘‘ Lythe”’
—Shooting the tackle—How the drift-net is worked—The
trial shot—Shooting a ‘‘fleet”—The net filling—Hauling in
—The first strike—A second shot—More than they can
carry—‘' Maze,” ‘fcran,” and ‘‘last”—Getting rid of the
catch ° ° ° ° e °
CHAPTER XII
FISHING IN THE MEDITERRANEAN
Possibilities of the Mediterranean fisheries—Migration of the
anchovy—Shooting the seine for anchovies—The moored
net—Some of its occupants—The fisherman’s friends and
enemies—Sharks—Saw-fish and sword-fish—The tunny—
Setting the nets—Slaughterlng the catch—Another Sicilian
industry—Line-fishing “ . . . :
CHAPTER XIII
THE PILCHARD—THE STURGEON
The Cornish fisherman—The pilchard—Shoaling—Drift-nets
and seines—The ‘‘ seine-boat ’—Shooting the net—The stop-
II
PAGE
Ii!
124
133
147
CONTENTS
PAGE
seines—Sharks !—“‘ Tucking ’’—Taking the fish ashore—
The factory—The sturgeon—Russian sturgeon and sterlet
fishing—Isinglass and caviare . : “ - 4556
CHAPTER XIV
THE CATCHING OF LOBSTERS, CRABS, AND WHELKS
Fish that are caught in pots—The lobster—Colonial fish—The
Bergen and Christiansund lobster-fishery—Crayfish—Crabs
—The hermit—Land-crabs—Tropical and fresh-water crabs
—Crabbing—Whelks—Fishing with ‘trots oy oie as
a trade—The boats—The pots—The fish . 167
CHAPTER XV
THE FISHERIES OF THE FAR EAST
China, Japan, Siam, etc.—A fish-eating people—Fresh-water
fishing—Chinese angling—Fishing with the help of cormo-
rants—How the birds are trained—Good and bad divers—
Two birds to one fish—The dip-net—River-fishing by hand
—Sea fisheries; the junk and the lorcha—A Portuguese
colony—‘‘ Archers” and ‘‘ fighting-fish age p s fisheries—
The salmon and trout ’ - 199
CHAPTER XVI
SOME REMARKS ON THE IRISH FISHERIES
Comparative poverty of the western fisheries—Possible reasons
—Present state of the Irish fisheries—The Irish fisherman—
Trawling and long-line fishing—Congers, sharks, and sea-
cats—Trawling on rocky ground—‘‘ Man overboard!”—Ling,
halibut, and ray—Eels—Tory Island . - : - IQ!
CHAPTER XVII
SOME STRANGE FISH AND STRANGE FISHERMEN
Decay of primitive methods—South American fisheries—The
arapaima—Harpoons and tethered arrows—The armado—
Catching fish on land—The déodon—Fishing in Tierra del
Fuego—African river-fishing—The Indian mango-fish—The
modern Galilean fisherman—South Sea Island fish—Proas
and Hawaiian “ outriggers ’—Australian and Arctic fishing 203
12
CONTENTS
CHAPTER XVIII
PEARLS AND PEARL-DIVING
PAGE
How pearls grow—Loose and fixed pearls—The fish that contain
them—The Ceylon Banks—Native divers—The pearl fleet—
Scene in the Gulf of Manaar—A noisy crew—The “shifts”
—Method of lowering—Sharks—A curious superstition—
Landing and piling the oysters—How they open—Varieties
of pearls—Other aun ie eee for pearl-shells—The
argentine . : C - 218
CHAPTER XIX
WHALES AND WHALING
A profitable if risky industry—One or two historical details—
The home of the whale—Old and new methods of catching
him—Harpoons—“‘ Blowing ’—The whale’s trail—Throwing
the harpoon—A nerve-destroying trade—The tow-line—
Other shots at the monster—A cut at the tail—The death—
Cutting up—The whale’s enemies—Rorquals and cachalots
—A modern whaler and its equipment—The harpoon-gun
and the bomb-lance—A disappointing whale—Various uses
to which the carcass is devoted—Sperm oil and ambergris . 231
CHAPTER XX
HOW SPONGES ARE PROCURED
What sponge is—Where it grows—Sponge-diving—The un-
dressed diver—A ‘‘dressed”’ diver at work—His dress—
The diver on the bottom—Signals—Coming up—Dredging
for sponges — Awkward gear — Sponge-harpooning — The
spy-glass— The Adriatic trade — Sponge-culture — Florida
Keys—Sponge-hooking in the Bahamas : . . 250
CHAPTER XXI
DOLPHINS, PORPOISES, AND MANATEES
The dolphin—Misconceptions about it—Dolphin-catching among
the Faroe islanders—Fresh-water dolphins: the Inia and
the Soosoo—The grampus—Porpoises—Fishermen’s hatred
of them—The narwhal—Its tusk—An Iceland narwhal-hunt
—The Greenlanders’ method—The Caaing whale and the
beluga—Trapping and seining belugas—The ales and
the manatee—A manatee-hunt 5 . » 265
13
CONTENTS
CHAPTER XXII
TURTLES AND TURTLE-CATCHING
PAGE
Turtles and tortoises—The terrapin or snapper—Catching
turtles with fish—The vremora—Shooting with tethered
arrows—Turtle-diving—Tortoise-shell—A horrible method
of obtaining it—The hawk’s-bill—Its shell—Seining for
turtles in South America—The Galapagos tortoise—The
green turtle—Method of taking him . 5 ; . 284
CHAPTER XXIII
AFTER THE SEAL AND THE WALRUS
The pinnipeds—The seals and their young — Seal-hunting
among the Eskimos—The seal as a fighter—-The Eskimos’
summer season—Varieties of seals—Sealing among civilised
fleets—Methods—Dangers of the work—A seal-massacre—
How the seal-colonies are founded—Sea-elephants, sea-lions,
and sea-bears—The walrus—His enemies—A big catch—
Modern methods of walrus-hunting . : . = 207
14
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
A DREADED CATCH , - : : Frontispiece
PAGE
A GREAT CATCH OF MACKEREL, LOWESTOFT . . win 25
GUTTING THE FISH ON BOARD A DANISH BANKS TRAWLER . 39 '
THE MUSSEL-BAITERS . . : . oe Aa
e
NETTING SALMON FROM COLOMBIA RIVER, OREGON, U.S.A. 62
SALMON-NETTING IN NORWAY . 5 . D OOK
SALMON-FISHING FOR PLEASURE IN A HIGHLAND RIVER aay
FISHERMEN LAYING OUT HERRING FOR SALE AT LOWESTOFT 134
ESTIMATING A CATCH OF HERRING IN NORWay . : 2 LON
HERRING-DRIVING IN NORWAY : c : » 144
PILCHARD-FISHING . : ; . : . 158
FISHING WITH CORMORANTS IN CHINA . ; ; ke
FISHING IN JAPAN © ‘ z : : - 188
FISHING ON THE NILE . ; c : >) 210) «
A SPIDER’S WEB AS A FISHING-NET _. “ : ne 2A
EsKIMOS SPEARING FISH ; : : ; 24 256
BOATS WAITING NEAR THE GUARDSHIP AT THE CEYLON
PEARL FISHERIES ‘ ; : g A 220)
A GRoOuP OF CEYLON PEARL DIVERS . : : e228
15
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
HARPOONING A SPERM WHALE ;
SEVERING A WHALE’S VERTEBRAL COLUMN
HAULING UP A SPONGE-DIVER .
DOoLPHIN- HUNTING
TURTLE-FISHING
An Eskimo METHOD OF SEAL-FISHING . 3 5
16
THE ROMANCE OF THE
WORLD’S FISHERIES
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTORY
Fishing an occupation to which uncivilised man would naturally turn
—Seasons and preferences—Other products of the sea besides fish
—A few words on fishing from an historical point of view.
»
HE catching of fish is an occupation which must
3 have arisen at a very early stage in the history of
the human race; for man’s staple food is necessarily
decided by his surroundings, and it was as natural for
a maritime people to look to the sea as its provider, as
it was for forest inhabitants to sustain life on the fruit
of trees or the flesh of birds and beasts. Early man
could not, or would not, cultivate the soil; therefore he
must either content himself with food that cost him
little or no trouble to obtain—vegetable products that
did not call for cultivation, eggs, or shell-fish that lay on
the shore—or else he must combine business with pleasure
by obeying his instinct to hunt; by living on fish, flesh,
or fowl, the procuring of which had a seasoning of chance,
B 17
INTRODUCTORY
or excitement, or danger in it. Often the land monster
or the sea monster seemed to threaten him with death
whether he hunted it or no; therefore he felt driven to
slay it in self-defence; and, when slain, what was more
natural than that its flesh should be eaten and its non-
edible parts utilised as clothing, ornament, tool, or
weapon P
. When our fathers had learned the art of making and
managing rafts or boats, they found that many fish which
could not be obtained in shallow water might easily be
caught at some distance from the shore. The appliances
x catching them—baited hooks, nets, and baskets made
cc skin or fibre or twigs—would suggest themselves,
necessity being the mother of invention.
Then, as agriculture and the mechanical arts developed,
it became the business of those who still refused to follow
a land trade, to sell or barter the fish which they did not
need to people who had not the time or the inclination
to procure such food for themselves. And it was in this
way that an industry began which, to-day in many
countries, ranks in importance with agriculture, and often
with manufactures.
By observation the fisherman or the fish-eater gradually
learned that at one time of the year certain fish were more
palatable or more plentiful than at another; that during
some months shell-fish, for example, were nutritious,
during others poisonous; thus the “season” for any
special fish became recognised and defined. As the con-
sumer’s palate grew more discriminating, one fish was
found to be richer in taste than another; and so creatures
18
INTRODUCTORY
like the turbot, the sole, and the oyster were ruthlessly
and greedily pursued, to the partial neglect of, say, the
humbler herring and skate, which continued to increase
and multiply, commanding but a poor market-price in
comparison with their scarcer and more succulent brethren.
Thus to-day the fishmonger who can afford to sell a
herring for a halfpenny must charge a shilling for
a sole.
From the further cultivation of arts and crafts, the
man of the coast realised at length that fish had other
profitable uses than those of the table; from increased
knowledge of navigation, from experiments in diving,
and from watching the beach at low tide, he learned that
the sea had other saleable commodities to offer besides
fish in the strict sense. For ages he had adorned himself
and his family with sealskin, sharks’ teeth, shells, coral ;
had converted fish-bones into knives and war-hatchets
and needles and hooks; had collected cowries for his
currency, and amber to conjure with; and perhaps it
was not such a very wide step thence to the preserving
and utilising of fish skins and oil, or to a systematic
search for—and regular trade in—pearls, whalebone,
sponge, or the purple dye secreted within the shell of
the 'Tyrian murex.
From the time that the fisheries became once firmly
established as a recognised industry, there is not a great
deal to be said as to the history of their development.
Probably the reason for this is that, unlike most trades,
fishing does not easily lend itself to improvements and
new fashions. The fisherman thinks that what was good
19
INTRODUCTORY
enough for his father is good enough for him. Companies
may have taken the trade out of the hands of indi-
viduals; steam-vessels may have ousted some of the
old smacks; but methods and implements generally
have undergone but little alteration even in a couple
of thousand years; a net or a dredge or a pot or an
enclosure is now what it was then. The few important
modifications or improvements in gear will be dealt
with presently.
Nor has political history much to tell us about the
fisheries that would be of general interest. Henry I of
England is supposed to have regarded the sturgeon as his
exclusive property ; and we know that the salmon forms
the subject of a clause in Magna Charta. It is generally
believed that Biscayan whalers as far back as the fourteenth
century fished off the coast of what is now called New-
foundland, and even off Greenland and Spitzbergen.
The Portuguese instituted the Grand Banks cod-fishery
in the year 1500. In the time of Charles I, the British
fisheries had so declined that the King, in 1662, offered
£200 to every man who would fit out a “ brisse,” or Dutch
herring-smack, within six months from the date of his
proclamation.
Fishing-grounds have, of course, formed the subject of
disputes between countries. In 1839 a treaty was signed
between England and France to settle the exact boundaries
of the oyster, and other, grounds, to which both nations
laid claim; and in 1854 a similar agreement was drawn
up between our Government and that of the United States,
relating to the Canadian fisheries.
20
INTRODUCTORY
It is only within comparatively recent years that any
serious step has been taken by Government to fix a close
season for fish. At the present time our fisheries are
under the control of local committees appointed by the
Board of Trade.
21
CHAPTER II
THE FISHERMAN’S TOOLS
Various means of obtaining fish—The push-net—Rod and line—Bait
—Means of getting nearer to the fish—The raft—The open boat—
The smack—Tackle used in boat-fishing—Long lines and hand
lines—Trawls—drift-nets, seines, moored nets, and dredges—Pots
—Another important item: experience—The fascination of the
fisherman’ calling.
well to give a brief description in outline of the
“plant,” so to speak, which constitutes the fisher-
man’s capital ; the means most generally in use for trans-
porting the fish from their home in the sea or river
to the storehouse or the market. Less commonly used
appliances will receive separate mention later.
Obviously the simplest method of procuring fish is by
picking them off the beach at low water. It is in this
way that millions of cockles, mussels, and periwinkles
are obtained every year; in many parts of the world
oysters are obtained in the same way. Such creatures
as these offer no resistance; make no attempt to escape
their captors; but as soon as we come to the more lively
fish that may be caught at low tide or in very shallow
water — shrimps, for instance—some mechanical con-
B wet t dealing with special fisheries it may be
trivance for securing them at once becomes necessary.
22
THE FISHERMAN’S TOOLS
In the case of shrimps, this takes the form of the push-
net, with the sight of which we are all familiar—a simple
net-bag, kept open by a wooden framework to which a
long pole is fastened.
The ordinary vertebrate fish, whether of the sea or the
river, may also be caught from the land; but, as every-
body knows, he is too timid or too wary to allow himself
to be beguiled by other than artificial means more or less
elaborate. From the banks of rivers and lakes, or from
jetties and pier-heads, opportunities for large catches are
rare; wherefore it is better to try patiently to secure the fish
singly. This is done by means of a hook, usually barbed,
fastened to a line long enough to reach that part of the
water—surface, middle, or bottom—where the fish angled
‘for is likely to be found. In fishing at any appreciable
distance from the bank, the line is suspended over the
water from the tip of a long rod which scarcely calls
for minute description. ‘To entice the fish, some bait,
natural or artificial, living or dead, which will appeal
to his curiosity or greed, is fixed to the hook, generally
in such a manner as partially to conceal it. ‘This bait
varies according to the fish sought and the depth at
which he swims: broadly speaking, for angling at or near
the surface, imitation flies are used; for mid-water
angling, real or sham fish; for fishing near the bottom,
dough, worms, or gentles (the larvae obtained from fly-
blown meat).
To these methods “land” fishing may be said to be
mainly confined; and we pass on to the consideration of
the more important branch, which presses into its service
23
THE FISHERMAN’S TOOLS
not only nets and lines, but also a means of getting at
somewhat closer quarters with those fish which cannot be
caught very near to the shore—boats and ships.
The raft, the rudest type of water conveyance, is now,
except by some of the Japanese and Chinese fishermen,
used only by savages and boys. It has no particular
shape or construction, and often no means of steering.
It is said that the Phoenicians, who colonised Corsica and
other islands near Italy, had no better craft in which to
reach their destination; if so, the journey must have
been a work of time and patience.
The open boat, the shape of which varies only triflingly
in different parts of the world, comes next. Being of such
light build and not affording much storage accommoda-
tion, one often thinks of it as merely an accessory to
larger fishing-boats; yet on most coasts it is to be found
used independently ; and, for certain kinds of work—line-
fishing, crabbing, etc.—it has a world-wide popularity.
It draws so little water that it can be safely used where
larger boats would go aground or strike the rocks; often
its very lightness is its strongest recommendation ; for,
where a larger vessel may have to struggle with the wind
or get becalmed for want of it, the open boat, propelled
by stout oarsmen, can force a passage with more or less
ease. Fitted with a “lug,” ie. a square sail fixed to a
yard that hangs obliquely to the mast, it is used along
the east coast for fishing on a small scale. A long open
boat provided with two lug-sails, known as a Scotch
lugger, is still a great favourite with the North Sea
herring-fishers.
24
THE FISHERMAN’S TOOLS
Next comes the type of vessel most associated in our
minds with the sea-fisheries—the decked boat or smack.
More often than not she is “cutter-rigged,” having a
single mast with main-sail, top-sail, jib-sail, and fore-sail.
Yawls, or yawl-rigged smacks, only differ from the other
kind in having a second mast aft—the mizzen. The
smack has a cabin furnished with a stove and three or
four bunks, while, for storage purposes, the ample spaces
below hatches in the fore part of the ship are used.
Larger decked boats—schooners, brigs, and other square-
rigged craft—are employed in the whaling and sponge
trade, and also by the American cod-fishers; but as a rule
these are not so much actual fishing-boats as storehouses,
lodging-houses for the crew, and workshops. ‘They are
supplied with a number of small rowing-boats which do
the catching work and unload their cargo into the larger
vessel at night.
Now as to the gear or tackle necessary in fishing from
boats. It may be classified under three heads : lines, nets,
and pots. Lines may be of the simpler sort, whether with
rod and winch, as used in tarpon-fishing, or only intended
to be held in the hand (“hand lines”), such as are employed
on the east coast for cod, and on the south for whiting; or
they may be of the more complicated kind known as “long
lines.” The last named are used by the Scotch and North
Country fishermen for haddocks, and by many of the
American cod-crews; they are furnished with hooks which
vary in size and number, and which—like hand and rod
lines—are baited according to the class of fish sought ;
25
THE FISHERMAN’S TOOLS
the baits most commonly in use being mussels, whelks,
hermit-crabs, and squid or cuttle-fish. Long lines, when
joined up to form a series, often stretch for more than a
mile, and carry as many as four or five thousand hooks.
Under the head of nets are included trawls, drift-nets,
seines, moored nets, and dredges. The trawl (or trail)
net, the most important and elaborate of these, is a huge
meshed bag which runs down to a point, and the mouth
of which is fastened to a pole or “ beam,” ordinarily about
forty feet long. At either end of the beam, and at right
angles to it, is a sort of triangular broad hoop of iron,
measuring about three feet from base to apex. ‘These
hoops—“ trawl-heads” as they are called—serve the three-
fold purpose of sinking the net; of supporting the beam,
keeping it well off the bottom; and of gliding over the
sand like the runners of a sledge, as the boat moves. The
same net, on a somewhat smaller scale and with finer
mesh-work, is used for shrimping.
A drift-net is a much less pretentious arrangement, being
a long wall (“fleet”) of small single nets fastened together
in a line. Buoyed above with corks and bladders so that
it may hang perpendicularly in the water, the series of
nets drifts gently along at the tail of a boat, and a shoal
of fish swimming straight at it, or driven towards it by the
current, would soon be inextricably fixed in the meshes.
The seine (the sagéné of the old Greek fishermen) is a
plain net, corked above and leaded below; the top level,
but the bottom slightly curved; it may be of any size,
from the Cornish pilchard-seine, which is twelve hundred
feet long and sixty feet deep, to the little net worked by
26
THE FISHERMAN’S TOOLS
the fisher-girls in Brittany, or the ground-seine commonly
found in the Channel sprat-fishing. In a general way the
seine is shot from a rowing-boat, and is dragged ashore in
a semicircle by ropes fastened to its two ends. Moored
nets are those, no matter of what shape, which are fixed in
certain spots by means of anchors. ‘They may be seen in
great numbers across the mouths of Scotch, French, and
Scandinavian rivers, where the tide, whether ebbing or
flowing, soon drives the fish against them. ‘The dredge,
used principally for oysters, is a very small bag-like net,
the under part of which is composed of wire rings and
the upper of small string meshes. It is supported by a
triangular heavy iron frame, to which a stout rope long
enough to reach to the bottom is attached. ‘The dredge
is thrown overboard, allowed to scrape along the sand for
a few minutes, hauled up, emptied, and thrown over again.
The third class of contrivance, pots, are used for the
snaring of crabs, lobsters, etc. They are made of wicker,
or of network stretched on an iron frame; are baited with
fish or meat, and are sunk singly or in rows by means of
heavy stones, their position being marked by cork buoys.
To this list of fishermen’s requisites must be added
another item—experience. Every amateur angler, whether
it be the small boy who fishes for minnows with cotton
and a bent pin, or the stalwart sportsman who whips the
Scandinavian streams for salmon, is aware that, without a
knowledge both of the habits and whereabouts of his fish,
and also of the proper manipulation of his tackle, he will
never catch anything except by sheer chance. And such
knowledge, important as it is, constitutes only a portion
27
THE FISHERMAN’S TOOLS
of what is essential to the professional fishermen of civil-
ised countries.
Before the sea-fisher is at liberty to bestow many
thoughts upon either fish or tackle, he must learn to be a
sailor; must understand the mystery of tides and currents
and winds; be well acquainted with the nature of the
ground on which he has to work; and be prepared to
perform every conceivable duty on board, from swabbing
the deck to steering the smack through a squall or a fog.
Even then his education is by no means complete. Apart
from the thousand and one minor repairs to boat and
tackle for which he is responsible, apart even from the
many tricks of the trade that he must know before he can
secure and land his catch, almost every class of fisherman
has special duties to perform in connection with the fish
after they are caught: cleaning, sorting, packing, drying,
salting—all of it work, that sounds and looks far easier
than it is.
From this it will be seen that the fisherman’s life is not
a lazy one; neither is it a very safe one, especially where
open-boat fishing is concerned. It is, moreover, pre-
carious in the extreme; too much or too little wind may
keep the boats ashore for days at a time; an overstocked
market may render a whole day’s catch valueless, except
as manure; a sea-monster or passing ship may ruin fifty
pounds’ worth of gear in fifty seconds.
But there is a brighter side to the picture. ‘There are
strokes of luck to be considered—extraordinary catches,
at a time when prices are high—a few of which will make
the fisherman comparatively wealthy. Of the healthiness
28
“Inoqivy IOIsSaMOT UT Sud] st voq ey TL,
oozF ADAO [JPA SEM PkOTILOG ay} JO eN[ea YT, “yep aq} uo dn paid uscd o19M YSY 94} pue ‘[[NJ SEM Plog eq J,
TAYANOVIN AO HOLVD LVEID VW
2/0102 97 suryuaf, ‘oj0oud
THE FISHERMAN’S TOOLS
of the occupation there can be no two opinions; some of
the finest imaginable specimens of manhood can easily be
picked from among British, Scandinavian, or American
fishermen ; men of seventy years of age may be seen work-
ing with the speed and energy of lads of twenty.
There is a romance too, a fascination, about the call-
ing that is seldom to be found in any other. The hard
labour, the ever-present danger, and the decidedly un-
romantic smell of fish or tar or oil are, in the fisher’s
estimation, amply outweighed by the sense of freedom
that his daily contact with the sea produces. 'The labour
and the smells he takes-for granted ; the danger he seldom
troubles about—to think about it is often to incur it.
He is a sort of cheerful fatalist; if he is marked for
drowning, drown he must, some day or another.
He would not, in one case out of a hundred, change his
trade for any other; all other methods of life are to him
cramping and enervating, and lacking in liberty. There
is an old Kent-coast fisherman who worked regularly on »
board his smack, in foul weather and fair, till he was
eighty years old. ‘Then he at length yielded to the per-
suasions of a wealthy grandson, who took him to London,
gave him rooms in his own house, and supplied him with
all manner of luxuries. The dear old fellow tried town
life and idleness for nearly a year; then one day he
suddenly disappeared—he had gone back quietly to the
work of his boyhood. He is now eighty-three, and prides
himself on doing as good a day’s fishing as the rest of his
crew. Had he remained in London he would probably
have been dead long ago.
29
CHAPTER III
TRAWLING
“‘ Off” with the boats—The start—The fisherman’s attitude towards
strangers—An East Coast trawler—The net—The fisherman at sea
—Shooting the trawl—Special ‘‘catches ”—The net hauled up—
Where the hard work comes in—The steam carrier—What is done
with the catch—Steam-trawling—Little private ventures.
O sea-loving people there is a peculiar charm
attaching to the departure, whether by day or by
night, of a fishing-fleet. When the boats go off
by daylight there is the pleasing bustle and scurry
attendant on the putting out to sea of two or three
hundred men, all of them robust, healthy, and light-
hearted. There is the vivid, continually changing
panorama, made up of picturesque costumes, gaily
painted boats which are being dragged down the shingle
or tossed up and down on the waves in their effort to
reach the smacks lying at moorings; the steady rise of
the white or brown main-sail as it is hauled up by a
couple of men; finishing with the graceful movement of
the vessel herself as she slips her cable and sets off on her
little voyage.
At night the charm is different. It is there all the
same; to the taste of many people it is even intensified.
Darkness has taken the place of daylight, and it remains
30
TRAWLING
for the ear to be entertained rather than the eye. The
crunch of boat-keels over the pebbly beach, the hollow
shouts of the men, the plash and rumble of the oars—
noises that, in the daytime, pass unnoticed because they
are drowned by others from the land—are now not only
heard, but almost felt. ‘The atmosphere of gaiety that is
a feature of a daylight departure is wanting now, for the
men have been called out of snug beds to catch the tide
that must be taken, if not “at the flood,” at least soon
after the ebb has begun; some are sulky, others half
asleep, and the rest are silent because even the most
civil remark might beget a surly answer or be ignored
altogether.
As each boat reaches the water’s edge there is a
splashing sound ; the big, sea-booted men are scrambling
into their places. Then comes the rhythmical knock-
knock of the oars against the rowlocks as the boat
hurries away into the gloom, her passage marked by the
phosphorescent line left as she passes through the water,
and by the pale gold drops that fall from the oar-blades,
Presently the watcher on the shore hears a bump and a
grating noise; the little boat has got alongside the smack;
the men are clambering on board; the boat is made fast
astern of the larger vessel, and work is about to begin.
How the crew have distinguished their particular smack
from the fifty, hundred, or two hundred lying at anchor
is, to the landsman, a profound mystery; yet there has
not been an instant of hesitation in the fishermen’s minds ;
they have threaded their way as easily and naturally
among the large fleet as a London policeman would cross
31
TRAWLING
the Strand, and have pulled unerringly up to their own
ship.
Now there are fresh noises that again we should prob-
ably be unconscious of by day: the spasmodic rattle of
the rings on the mast, as the gaff and main-sail are hauled
into position ; or the more rapid and regular click-click of
the chain-cable as it is allowed to run through the hawse-
hole or over the bow. ‘The fore-sail and jib-sail are set ;
perhaps the top-sail as well, if wind be scarce; and the
smack at last separates herself from the others which are
in various stages of readiness, and, in ghostly fashion,
slips away into the darkness.
This gradual disappearance of boat after boat—or of
the whole fleet together—rather piques the watcher’s
curiosity. The fisher crews are going away for a day or
two; perhaps a week ; most likely a couple of months or
more, if they are trawlers. What is going to happen
during all that time? The inquisitive one must go and
see for himself, for he can, in that way, learn more in a
few hours than six months’ hearsay would teach him. If
he is known to the men, a good sailor, and is prepared to
“rough it,” nothing is easier; if he knows enough about
seamanship to be able to bear a hand on board (without
going out of his way to try to teach the skipper how to
manage his own boat) he may even be received with open
arms. I say “if he is known to the men.” Fishermen
vary in their attitude towards landsmen. A Yankee cod-
skipper who is short of a hand would not hesitate to
engage even a tram-conductor or a hairdresser; and
would argue that, by the time the ground was reached,
32
TRAWLING
the new man would be either competent or dead. An
Trish crew would be “ hail-fellow” with any man who did
not look like being sea-sick. The Scotch, North Country,
and East Coast fishermen will take the stranger aboard if
they are once persuaded that he is prepared to learn a
very great deal from them. They do not seek to magnify
the danger ; rather the reverse, in fact; but they do like
the landsman to feel that he is being initiated into a
mystery that is far too deep for his intellect to grasp all
in a hurry.
A cheery word or two, and a readiness to hand round
one’s tobacco, or possibly a hint as to a trifling donation
at the end of the day, are the only passports necessary
to make one shipmates with the South Country fisherman,
save and except him of certain parts of Devonshire. To
the Clovelly or Brixham fisherman, the man from the
next village is a stranger and a foreigner; and, till
recently, it were better for that man that he should keep
out of the way. Even to-day, unless there is very strong
influence at work, the visitor from a distance would stand
quite as much chance of being invited aboard the royal
yacht as of being allowed to sail with a Brixham trawler.
Let the reader imagine himself, then, on board one
of the Lowestoft or Yarmouth or Hull boats. She is
either cutter- or yawl-rigged; probably the latter, as
being safer in the heavy winter seas off the Dogger Bank.
Instead of making sail from her moorings, she has most
likely been towed out to sea, with others, by a steam-tug.
As the sun shows signs of rising, the stranger has an
opportunity of looking about him and taking in his new
c 33
TRAWLING
quarters. Along the port (or left-hand) side of the boat
is the trawl-net—the heavy, iron-runnered beam lying
along the deck; the “cod,” or pointed bottom of the
net, looped up to the rigging. On examination it is
seen that one side of the net’s mouth is fastened, all the
way down, to the beam and the trawl-heads; the other
is formed by an enormously thick rope—the “ foot-rope”
—much longer than the beam itself, to which the first
row of meshes on that side is attached. Close by are
huge coils of rope which look as though they too ought
to belong to the trawl.
Swish! A bucket of water eddies round your ankles,
and you speedily resolve to postpone your investigations
till a more seasonable hour, as an energetic fisher-lad
diligently scrubs at the deck with his short-handled broom.
Not that it wants scrubbing; the only marks on it are
a few smuts from the chimney of the cabin, where some
one is lighting a fire to boil the breakfast kettle ; but the
seaman is the cleanest soul on earth, and washes his decks
from habit, and his hands twenty times to any other
working man’s once.
Somebody calls out that the kettle boils, and the
hitherto silent fishermen show signs of growing talkative.
In warm weather, or at busy times, they take their meal
on deck; at other times in the cabin, going down by
twos and threes, or occasionally—with the exception of
the man at the helm—en masse. 'The tea has been made
in the kettle, and is now poured into iron mugs or
gallipots, while a condensed-milk tin is solemnly scrubbed
out to serve as a drinking-vessel for that courteous mem-
34
TRAWLING
ber of the crew who has placed his own mug at the
guest’s disposal.
Fish might be the greatest rarity at sea, if one judged
from the fact that at least three of the men have brought
kippers or red herrings to toast for their breakfast.
The cabin of one of these smacks is not the perfection
of comfort; in many of them a man of medium height
cannot even stand upright; the floor is wet, sometimes
sloppy, and the intense heat makes every one anxious to
escape to the fresh air as soon as possible. Coming up on
deck again, you find that it is broad daylight; the land
has disappeared, or else stands out only in dark outline;
perhaps you have broken away from the main fleet and
there is not a boat within hail; the wind is fresh, the
smack slips swiftly and delicately over the waves, and
you begin to understand why the fisherman looks with
contempt on all occupations except his own.
At length signs of attention to business reappear ;
pipes are stowed away; the after-breakfast chatter dies
down ; the taciturn old fellow at the helm takes a fresh
quid of tobacco and mutters some order about easing the
fore-sail or lowering the top-sail; the younger men
abandon their speculations as to whether the Skylark
or the John and Mary or the Minnie Brown ships
just as much water as she did before she went for repairs,
and give themselves up to a close inspection of the gear.
A few minutes, or hours—as the case may be—pass; then
the main-sail is pulled round to leeward, other sails are
lowered or eased, and you realise that at last the men are
going to fish.
35
TRAWLING
The smack is in thirty, perhaps forty, fathoms of water,
and down at or near the bottom are soles and plaice,
halibut and brill, with, perhaps, a score of other kinds of
fish: turbot, lemon-soles, skate, cod, haddock, whiting—
to say nothing of the less-known megrims, witches, pouting,
coal-fish, and pollack—all waiting to swim into, or be
scooped up by, the great trawl-net. The size of this net
naturally varies according to the size of the vessel carry-
ing it; the beam is any length from five-and-thirty to
fifty feet ; the meshes increase in size towards the mouth,
being about an inch and a half square at the bottom, and
about four inches at the top.
Now comes the moment for throwing it overboard (a
fisherman always speaks of “shooting” the net). To
each trawl-head or runner a long rope—the “ bridle”—
is made fast, and a third rope is shackled to the
bridle-ends.
“ Allright! Let go!” growls the skipper.
The heavy beam has disappeared ; trawling has begun ;
and, for so many days, weeks, or months, the crew has
settled down to a seemingly monotonous and endless task.
The boat has slackened her speed; often she appears to
make no progress at all. If the weather is not too
rough she is left to go whither she will, for, with the
ponderous trawl clogging her like a sea-anchor, she cannot
run far away. There she lies, tossed lightly about by
wave and breeze; patiently dragging her net from left or
right, according to the tide and wind. What will the first
haul be like ?
At present our skipper is only feeling his way; he
36
TRAWLING
wants to find smooth ground, for only there can the trawl
work satisfactorily.
And what is going on all that distance below our feet ?
We talk airily about so many fathoms, without perhaps
readily grasping what such a depth means. Imagine a
distance nearly four times the length of a cricket-pitch ;
that is how deep down our net is lying. ‘The beam, held
three or four feet off the ground by its two runners, is
riding slowly and easily along; the foot-rope is scraping
over the bottom, disturbing and bewildering the fish,
which are scooped up by it before they know where they
are; and, finding that they cannot escape above, they
never seem to dream of trying to get out the way they
came in.
Although it is an everyday incident in their lives—or,
rather, an incident which happens a great many times
every day and night of their life at sea—the trawlers
always seem to get up a semi-enthusiasm, a few moments
of the breathless excitement of expectation, when the
time comes for hauling in. The older hands no doubt
affect a sort of indifference, but the little pleasurable
thrill—the gambler’s “eye to the off-chance”—is there
for those who can see it. And no wonder; for buried
treasure has been brought up on various occasions. Did
not some Margate fishermen once pull up a metal pot
crammed full of golden guineas? Moreover, the memory
of another, and perhaps more likely, treasure is still
green in the minds of the North Sea trawlers. There are
men still living who once saw a trawl-net pulled up near
the Dogger packed as full as it could be with one of the
37
‘TRAWLING
most expensive fish on the market—soles. 'The net had
somehow stumbled across a hollow, where a complete
colony of these creatures had taken up its abode; and, in
a short time, seven tons of them were taken. The value
of such a catch would be at least £400. I have heard this
tale from fishermen in various quarters, and Mr. James
Runciman, writing in 1886, speaks of it as an established
fact, adding that the haul was described to him by an
actual member of the fortunate crew.
The methods of raising the net differ. Our East Coast
boat will, in all probability, have a kind of patent capstan,
worked by steam power, which hoists the trawl amid-
ships; the southern boats, however, like the shrimpers,
have a large hand-winch or windlass which draws up the
fore-bridle over the bows, while the after-bridle is pulled
up by hand, or wound round a smaller winch astern.
These South Coast trawlers, by the way, do not usually
fish in fleets as the others do.
At last the beam shows itself above water, aa strong
hands lift it over the bulwarks. But how on earth, asks
the neophyte, can those ropes bear the strain of such a
weight? More, how can those paltry-looking bits of
string, that form the meshes, hold together when weighed
down by a burthen so tremendous? Such a question
belongs to the realm of mechanics; the fact remains that
not one rope in ten thousand does break, and it is the
exception rather than the rule for a mesh to give way.
Now only the net lies in the water, and, by means of
stout ropes, this is hoisted up and its contents shot out
on to a space temporarily boarded off on deck.
38
*peqovar st jiod Ji3un ysoy jday os pue ‘301 ur paxoed are nqiey pue ‘sored ‘yooppeFT ‘“Surqyes 10j ssourpeer ut
tiado a1[ds pue papeayrq are ‘ainqoid aq) ur uaas st uautoeds ouy ve YoIyM Jo ‘pod *AyII0}xep pue paads Suizeure YIM saatuyx A103 sreyy Ald
"Yo}eI OY} Suluva[o Jo yse} snonpie 94} ynoqe Buses UI 9UIT} OU VSO] Spuvg YIep aq J,
{oq} ‘sseur Araddijs a4} ojur daap-seuy Surpe
YAIMVAT SHINVG HSINVG V Guvod NO HSIY AHL ONILLN®)
.
*
Z
VE
j.
4
4
4
Z
4,
—
TRAW LING
The men cast a swift, appraising eye over the catch—
the more experienced can tell, within a very little, what
it is worth to them—then lower the trawl again; unless
the catch is entirely unsatisfactory, in which case they
may make sail a little farther away before doing so.
“Ts that all?” asks the landsman. ‘Then where does
the hard work come in?”
The hard work is only beginning. All those hundreds
or thousands of fish that lie feebly gasping there, inter-
spersed with shrimps, crabs, shells, and seaweed, have to
be cleaned, sorted out, and packed in boxes ready for the
carrier; cramping, back-breaking work it is, too; and, by
the time it is done, the trawl is probably ready to be
pulled up again. Up it comes; then the same moment
of expectancy; the same straining and dragging; the
same groping and stooping and sorting—then another
net-full ready to be hoisted in. Night comes on, and the
men “turn in” one or two at a time, according to the
number of the crew.
Till lately (in many instances the custom still exists),
in winter, the boats going off for a long spell carried
ice with them and stored the fish in it, bringing back the
whole cargo themselves at the end of the trip. This is
most largely done in the case of plaice, soles, and halibut.
But more commonly now, whether in winter or summer,
whether fishing off the Dogger or the Danish and Dutch
Banks, steam carriers go out from Yarmouth or Grimsby
or Hull almost daily, and their visit makes a break in the
monotony to which every one looks forward.
The carrier is a boat of powerful build, very high in
39
TRAW LING
the bows, and as low in the stern as a Thames barge. As
soon as she comes in sight all is bustle and excitement
on board the trawlers. The little boat that has been
trailing behind each smack is hauled alongside; one or
two men get in, and the boxes are handed over to them.
In the calmest weather there is a certain amount of
risk attaching to this work of transporting the fish to the
carrier. Every one knows what the swell from a good-
sized steamer is; a small boat getting into its wash
must expect a good deal of buffeting. But when the sea
is really rough—and the German Ocean can afford as fair
a sample of roughness as most—it seems impossible that
these little dinghies can live in it. Yet an accident rarely
happens. Very patiently the tiny craft makes her way to
the side of the carrier, and before the spectator has had
time to make up his mind whether or no she will be
smashed to splinters against the larger vessel, she is on
her way back again with a cargo of empty cases, perhaps
a few necessaries in the way of food or fresh water, and,
by chance, a letter or a couple of newspapers.
Nowadays carriers and tugs, having a shrewd eye to
business, have a trawl-net on board; and, in their spare
time, the crews do a little fishing on their own account.
This is especially the case with the Falmouth and Cardiff
tugs.
The Scotch, less conservative than the South Britons,
have almost abandoned sailing-vessels for trawling; and,
except in the case of small private ventures, it is safe to
say that at Leith, Aberdeen, and other Scotch ports, the
trawling is all done by screw-steamers. This, of course,
40
TRAW LING
means larger and heavier tackle, a larger crew (including
deck-hands, whose work is to see to the cleaning and
storing of the fish, and to do odd jobs aboard), and larger
catches. Boats of this description are provided not only
with patent capstans, but also with blocks and ropes for
hoisting the bag of the trawl on board.
The Ivish fleets still cleave to the older sailing-boat
method ; in 1900 Dublin alone possessed a fleet of over
fifty cutter-rigged smacks averaging forty tons.
It must not be supposed that trawling is confined to
Leith, Grimsby, Ramsgate, Brixham, and a few such
important centres. In almost every fishing-town there
are men who, in spring and summer, go out short
distances for a day or two at a time with a view to
supplying just the local market. If an owner does not
happen to possess trawling-gear he can soon hire it; ata
pinch he can use his shrimp-net, which is practically the
same thing.
Private ventures such as this are often exceedingly
lucrative, for the expenses and wear and tear are inappreci-
able as compared with those of a regular trawler; and
each man frequently finds that he has earned as much in
those few hours or days as he could make at other fishing
in as many weeks.
Al
CHAPTER IV
SHRIMPING, MUSSELLING, AND
LINE-FISHING
Shrimps—The push-net—On board a Dutch visschers-boot—Dutch
fishermen—Preparations for boiling—Hauling up the shrimp-net—
Emptying—The catch—Sorting—’Ware crabs!—And_ fox-fish—
Boiling—Hot shrimps—Danger of the trade—Prawns and prawn-
catching—Mussels—What becomes of them all—Transplanting—
Mussels by the barge-load — Line-fishing — Hand lines — Long
lines—Ready-baited hooks—Paying out the lines—‘‘ Bending-on ”
—Two or three miles of lines—Bringing in the catch—Longer
lines—* Bulters.”
HRIMPS are never out of season; and prawns only
during the last two months of the year. Prices
vary simply because the fish are so much more
plentiful at one time than another.
The push-net, to be seen at all seaside places in the
summer months, is apt to mislead us into the belief that
the shrimp is a shallow-water fish, which he is not. In
shallows he is an accident ; in deep water a feature. The
men whom you see “ploughing the sand” with a hand
net at low water are either out of work or making over-
time, and we cannot allow their claim to the dignified
title of “shrimper.” Ask the Dutchmen or the Kent and
Essex fishermen what they understand by shrimping.
Push-netting, they will tell you, is children’s amusement ;
42
SHRIMPING AND LINE-FISHING
some will even sarcastically affect never to have heard
of it.
Let us have a day off with a Dutch visschers-boot (which
we may manage to do if our command of German, Dutch,
or Flemish be of such a nature as to persuade the crew
that we are anything but British), and we shall have a
chance of seeing why shrimpers demand to be classed with
trawlers and other workers at dangerous trades.
Those who laugh at the Dutch fishermen have not seen
them at their work (except English fishermen; and these
justify the proverb that two of a trade seldom agree).
They may let their hair grow rather long; they may
wear wooden shoes—nowadays they far more often invest
in English-made sea-boots; they may require a very
great deal of alcohol to enable them to face a gale; but
their clever seamanship, their industry, and, when it
comes to the pinch, their cool courage, demand that we
shall speak of them with all respect. It is to these men
that the London market is indebted for its winter supply
of shrimps; in fact, from December to June, by far the
greater quantity comes from Holland, the fish being
vastly inferior to those taken from the Thames estuary.
Each smack, with an average crew of four, carries a net
shorter than a trawl and of much smaller mesh, but not
otherwise differing; and the men work almost a whole
tide, going off with the ebb and not returning till nearly
flood. Such boats will go from fifteen to thirty miles
away, working every minute of daylight. The men
know well enough, within a little, where they will find
their fish, and, with a favourable wind, will soon be
43
SHRIMPING, MUSSELLING
on the spot. Most boats carry a dredge, attached to
a very long warp, which, as soon as they have shortened
sail, they throw over once or twice to test the bottom.
If the result of the trial be satisfactory, the net is lowered
as described in Chapter III, and in the same manner is
towed slowly along the sand.
As soon as the net has been shot, preparations are
made for the shrimp-boiling, which almost invariably is
done on board. When the fore-hatch is taken up we see,
below, an ordinary washing-copper with a good-sized
erate under it, and, in it, the water and the waste
shrimps from yesterday’s boiling. The water is baled
out and flung overboard, but not the shrimps. It may
be superstition or it may be scientific fact, but all
shrimpers are of opinion that boiled shrimps are poison-
ous to their own kind, and that the living fish have no
instinct to warn them of that fact. Therefore any that
are left over (the “cleanings”) are made into a small
parcel to be thrown away when the men come ashore.
The copper being filled with sea-water to which several
generous handfuls of salt have been added, the fire is lit,
and, by the time the men are ready for it, the copper will
be boiling. Next the “zeef” (anglice, “strainer”) is
handed out and laid slanting from the bulwarks to the
deck, to leeward; it is an oblong wooden frame about
six feet by three, with a wire bottom, just such as brick-
layers’ labourers use for screening sand.
The hauling up of a shrimp-net is a less arduous un-
dertaking than the raising of a trawl, though it is quite
heavy enough to keep four men well employed for several
44
AND LINE-FISHING
minutes. In the bows is a powerful windlass to which
the fore-bridle, or else a tow-line connected with the two
hard
work even for a couple of strong men accustomed to such
labour. If the net is being pulled up by the fore-bridle
only, two other men are working in the stern, hauling in
the aft-bridle; if by a tow-line, they stand by to haul on
the after-bridle as soon as it comes in sight. At last the
beam comes up, is hoisted in, and the full net hangs over
bridles, is fixed, and then the winding up begins
the side, half in the water. Now a space must be made
for the fish. From the main-hatch to the after-cabin a
plank is laid on its edge on either side, thereby making,
with the uprights of the hatchways, a rectangular case
into which the net may be emptied.
As far as in them lies, these Dutch fishers evince the
same momentary excitement over the contents of the net
that we have seen among the trawlers. After looking at
a full trawl-net this one seems curiously small and empty ;
and, as a hauling-line is thrown round the waist of the
net, it looks as though we could pull it out of the water
with one hand; nevertheless, there is four hundredweight
or more in that bag-like contrivance, and the men find
quite enough difficulty in hoisting it out of the water
and over the bulwarks.
The mouth is laid inside the temporary enclosure, and
then, with a good deal of lifting and shaking, the catch
is emptied, the net examined in case of possible breakages
among the meshes, and then thrown in again.
Now have a look at the catch; a most interesting sight
‘when seen for the first time ; a grey-green, glistening, and
45
SHRIMPING, MUSSEKLLING
slightly palpitating mass, speckled with the dark green,
pink, red, or white bodies of crabs of all sorts and sizes.
Here and there is a something that brings a moment’s
pleasure to the eyes of the men: a good plump sole or
two, for which a private buyer will probably give fifty
cents apiece; perhaps even a turbot, the sale of which
will keep the crew in tobacco for close on a week ; perhaps
a handful of prawns.
But looking at them will not sort the fish. Here
begins the really hard work; shrimps, and nothing but
shrimps, must go into the boiling-copper, and no genius
has yet arisen to separate them from the rubbish by other
means than going down on the hands and knees and
picking out good from no good. In warm weather this
part of the work is troublesome enough; but try it in
winter with the rain or sleet beating in your face, and
your hands aching with cold. Aching is a very mild
term; I have seen stalwart fellows, who have experi-
enced all the terrors of Antarctic and Iceland weather,
almost cry with the cold in their fingers, while en-
gaged in shrimp-sorting within thirty miles of the
English coast.
But to work; and go gingerly, for there be crabs
about; not one of them big enough to be eaten, but
literally thousands that are prepared to eat as much of
you as you feel disposed to let them. Here is one nasty
little wretch—the “fliker” or fly-crab the men call it—
no bigger than a five-shilling piece, that will make a dead
set at you and bite to the bone. Smash him with your
boot or a stone, for he devours the fish and is no good
46
AND LINE-FISHING
even as whelk-bait. Other kinds of crabs are allowed
to depart in peace, but not this one if it can be helped.
Lightly flicking out the shrimps with the finger-tips,
the men gradually raise them into heaps, which are soon
scraped into a tub by the “boiler,” and thrown into
the copper. Now and then a few dabs, codling, or
whiting are found; they are thrown into a bucket for
subsequent sale or supper. Lightly veiled by a sparse
covering of shrimps is another white body; “more fish,”
you say, and go to take hold of it; but it is a white-
bellied crab, which fact you may not discover, if you are
foolish enough to put your hand on it, till the crab
himself informs you. Now here is a fox-fish; a thing
something like a fat whiting, spotted with grey and
black. Take him by the tail and throw him overboard
behind you as quickly and carefully as if he were red-
hot; hold him two seconds and you will regret it. His
gill-cover is elongated into a sharp, stiff spike, and the
moment he is touched he springs round salmon-like and
digs this into you, or scratches you with it. Fishermen
say that the sting is poisonous, but, eaperto crede, it is
nothing of the kind. He is no good for eating, but if
you find a relative of his, the weever, put him aside;
skinned and fried it would be difficult to find a fish more
delicate and satisfying. It has the same weapon—and
the same handy way of using it—as the fox-fish.
At last the sorting is done; the waste is brushed
through the port-holes and the crew are ready for the
second hauling. The number of the hauls will depend
on the light, the weather, and the plentifulness of the
47
SHRIMPING, MUSSELLING
fish. If these are scarce, the sorting will be finished
quickly, and the men all the sooner free for another
haul; if there is little wind the net must stay down
longer, for in such a case it is often being dragged over
the same spot again and again instead of going on to
fresh ground. Four hauls per day would be a fair average.
Now let us watch the man who is responsible for the
boiling. ‘There he is, down in the hold, giving the fish
a stir round from time to time, or throwing them up by
the dipper-full into the strainer. His water has nearly
boiled away, and one of the crew dips him another couple
of bucketfuls from over the side; and, as this comes to
the boil, we have an opportunity of watching the cook-
ing process right through. Into the copper goes a piled
pailful of the grey-green, semi-transparent fish, and as
the water closes over them, we hear a faint cheep-cheep
sound; this is not the wailing of the shrimps; it is
merely the water running into the air-passages, and you
would hear the same noise were the fish given a cold bath
instead of a hot.
In a minute or two the shrimps have changed their
colour; they are “done,” and the boiler dips them out
and throws them on the top of the others that are
draining in the sieve. Now try them; if you have once
tasted newly caught shrimps hot, you will not give a fico
for them eaten cold. You can eat as many as you like,
for they are plentiful enough generally; many are
destined never to come to the shop or the market at all,
but to be thrown on the land as manure. Perhaps, when
these poor fishermen get ashore, a telegram will be await-
48
AND LINE-FISHING
ing them to the effect that their dealer can take no more
shrimps for another three days.
A shrimp-boiler has one trouble in life, for which the
young skate and other small fry are responsible. Many
dark-skinned fish, in their baby form, are the exact length
and colour of shrimps, and, however carefully sorted the
fish may have been, several of these are sure to appear
among those set aside for boiling. Before these are
thrown into the copper they are closely inspected again,
and even then a score of trespassers will appear in the
boiling water, time after time deluding the boiler into
the belief that they are half-cooked shrimps.
As the sieve fills, the shrimps are taken out and put
into bags; and so the day goes on till eighty or a hun-
dred or more gallons are thus stowed away, and the boat
heads for home with the returning tide. The shrimps
will be taken ashore, measured into barrels, canvased
down, and sent away by cart or train.
Is there much danger in shrimping? A certain amount,
weather apart, even; because, when men are working a
whole tide, it is often necessary to do some of the fishing
in the half-light of morning or evening, and it is then
that accidents take place. At such a time a man may be
unwittingly standing in the way of a warp which he can
scarcely see, while the net is being shot, and may find
himself entangled in it suddenly and dragged overboard
almost before he can cry out. In this way a certain
number of lives are lost every year, for the bulk of the
work being done by daylight, few boats ever trouble to
carry a lamp.
D 49
SHRIMPING, MUSSELLING
Why are some shrimps pink and others brown? is a
question that has puzzled many of us in childhood. The
pink shrimps appear to be a sort of connecting link be-
tween the brown ones and prawns. ‘The two are seldom
found together in great numbers; in a neighbourhood
where the shrimps are brown there will also be a
sprinkling of the others, and vice versa.
The prawn, apart from being much larger, is dis-
tinguished from the shrimp by its saw-like spine and by
its enormously long external antenne, which are half as
long again as the fish itself. A live prawn is a most
beautiful thing: steel-grey, marked all over with purple
spots and lines; its eyes are its most extraordinary
feature, for they stand out like spots of flame or of the
most brilliantly burnished copper. In their adult con-
dition prawns are less fond of deep water than shrimps,
though a few are generally taken in the shrimp-net.
They rather prefer the still, clear pools among the rocks,
where they play and hide among the seaweed. ‘They are
caught in two ways: in traps like the ordinary lobster-
pot on a smaller scale; and in a sort of landing-net, made
by hanging a net-bag on an iron hoop fixed at the end
of a long pole.
When fishermen have nothing better to do, another
branch of the trade is open to them whenever the weather
permits—musselling,
-/Sea-water mussels are divisible into many classes, but
the two best known are the common mussel and the
horn-mussel ; the latter differing slightly from the former
in shape and in its habit of digging and burrowing in
50
AND LINE-FISHING
the sand. As an article of food, these animals are prob-
ably as nourishing as oysters, though they are so often
said to be poisonous. Whether they are so, or not, must,
as with snails, depend largely upon the feeding ; a mussel
that has passed a good part of its life clinging to the
copper bottom of a liner can scarcely be wholesome as
food. In any case the fish should never be eaten during
the summer months.
But why “go after” mussels when so many millions of
them are to be picked from rocks, breakwaters, and mud-
or shingle-banks ?
The question is reasonable enough, though it would
never be asked by any one who had the least idea as to
the number of mussels that are used in the United
Kingdom alone, every year. Hundreds of thousands, not!
of mussels, but of tons of mussels, are gathered annually
and sold; and, absurd as it may sound, there is little’
difference between the profits made on them and those
derived from the oyster-fishery. 'To France alone, the
Belgians export over twelve million francs’ (half a million
pounds’) worth every year.
Then who are the consumers ?
The ground, in the first place; all the small mussels,
and those which may have been tainted with sewage or/
poisoned by the copper bottoms of ships, are sent away.
by the barge-load for manure, or for lightening heavy
clay soil.
Secondly, the poor. Apart from those mussels that
are eaten from choice, or those which the fisher-people
out of work are sometimes glad to make a dinner of,
51
SHRIMPING, MUSSELLING
many tons of them are eaten by the London poor alone,
every winter; buying them at a penny a quart, a family
can have a meal for twopence.
Even then, we have not accounted for a third of the
numbers given above. The prime mussels are required as
bait for line-fishing, and are sold at the rate of rather
less than £2 a ton (over 51,000 fish go to the ton).
Many boats’ crews of the Scotch and North Country
fishers who go out into deep water for cod, haddock, etc.,
will use over four tons per boat, in a month, in this
manner. Wherefore let it no longer be wondered at,
that a shrimp- or oyster-boat, in her otherwise idle spells,
should go a-musselling. Mussels used in the pearl-
industry will be discussed in a subsequent chapter.
Not only are these useful bivalves gathered for sale,
but, in some parts of the coast, they are collected and
transplanted to special beds with as much care as if they
were oysters. ‘Those taken from the beach, it may be
noticed, are rarely fat and full; perhaps the constant out-
going of the tide disturbs their feeding. Therefore it is
necessary to find those that frequent moderately deep
water ; and these are obtained by dredging. The dredge
used is very like that employed for oyster-catching ; it is
thrown overboard from a barge or smack, and the mussels
that it brings up are picked out from the accompanying
mud and rubbish and stowed in the hold.
Musselling is much more irksome than shrimping, for
the men are often away for several days without a break,
their object being not to catch so many boxes full or so
many gallons, but to fill their boat till she cannot possibly
52
AND LINE-FISHING
find room for another mussel. Nevertheless, the work has
its compensations: there will certainly not be a telegram
when the crew get ashore to say that their cargo is not
wanted ; mussels are always wanted; if not by the ordin-
ary consumer, by the breeder.
If the fishing has been done from a smack, there are
barges waiting for her cargo to be shovelled into; if a
barge has been used, she will either let herself be landed
high and dry, when she will unload into carts, or else she
will carry her fish straight away up north or wherever
they are wanted. A stranger looking at one of these flat-
bottomed, ungainly craft close at hand, as she lies on the
Thames mud, would be as surprised when he saw the same
barge out at sea as he would if told the number of miles
she travels in the course of a twelvemonth. Looked at
from a distance when she is out at sea she seems as grace-
ful a ship as sails, in spite of her funny little mizzen.
When you see her empty and realise her storage accommo-
dation, you do not wonder that she is used in mussel-
dredging, considering the enormous numbers that must be
caught before the profits can be appreciable ; for, as bait
or manure, the catch will fetch less than a penny a
hundred.
Mention of mussel-bait brings us to the consideration
of how, and by whom, it is used to such an extraordinary
extent.
Line-fishing is probably of far more ancient date than
netting ; for that matter, there are savages that have used
that method for centuries, and still have not dreamt of
catching their fish in quantities, by means of nets. Asa
53
SHRIMPING, MUSSELLING
branch of the civilised fisherman’s trade it can never be
superseded until the fish have ceased to frequent those
parts of the ocean-bed where no net will go, and till such
fish as conger-eels will allow themselves to be taken in
respectable numbers by the trawl.
The simplest form of this fishing is by the use of
‘hand lines”—single lines, carrying one or more hooks,
the upper end being kept in the hand while fishing is
going on; such lines are pulled up as soon as there is a
bite, the fish gaffed off, and the hook rebaited. Naturally
the hooks vary in size and number according to the fish
sought. They may be seen all along the South Coast in
use for whiting, which, belonging to the cod family, are
more easily taken by hook than any other small sea-fish.
The southern whiting fishery is mainly in the hands of
individual fishermen, each man going off in his small
rowing-boat and working on his own account, subse-
quently selling the fish at the local market.
The same kind of line is used off the Norfolk coast for
cod, with a bit of cuttle-fish as bait.
Far more pretentious and important is the “long-line”
fishing which we find going on in the north and east,
and in Scotland; turbot, cod, ling, and haddock are
caught by the thousand in this way, both from small and
from large boats. The smacks from the Northumbrian
fishing villages go out towards the “bad” parts of the
Dogger and work as long as their bait lasts. Rowing-
boats, too, do a lot of coast work off Norfolk and Lincoln,
going out and coming in with the tide.
When a smack’s crew is going off long-line fishing, it
54
THE MUSSEL-BAITERS
Mussel-baiting is a constant occupation with the children and women-folk
of the North-Country long-line fishers.
AND LINE-FISHING
may be noticed that each man has a small supply of
baskets, otherwise known as “skeps” and “ creels.” Each
of these contains a line, with hooks ready baited ; in fact,
mussel-baiting is a constant occupation with the children
and womenfolk of these men. When the baits have been
fixed, the line is carefully coiled round and round, with
the hooks in the middle, laid in the skep, and fresh grass
or moss sprinkled over the bait to keep it from drying.
Some of the lines bear as many as 600 hooks, and each
has been artfully concealed with a mussel or, in default, a
bit of herring. Every member of the crew must con-
tribute a certain number of such lines; generally three or
four.
When the boat reaches the ground she shortens sail (or
steams gently along, for there are now many steamers en-
gaged in this work) and preparations are made for sinking
the lines. First of all, an iron weight or heavy stone
tied to the end of two lines is thrown overboard; the
upper end of one of these which, when the weight is
down, just reaches to the surface, is fastened to a buoy
which carries a flagstaff. 'To the other line—the be-
ginning of the “main-line”—one of the baited lines has
been joined, or “bent on,” at some distance from the
weight, and is now allowed to run itself out as the boat
drifts gently on.
During this proceeding one of the men is standing at
the bulwarks holding a short metal bar at arm’s length
over the side of the boat, for the line to run over; by
which precaution the hooks are prevented from possibly
catching in the boat-side. Before the whole length of
55
SHRIMPING, MUSSELLING
this line has been run out another is bent on by its free
end, and, in its turn, has a third joined to it in the same
way as before, till all the lines are used up and stretch
perhaps two or three miles out to sea, lying across the
tide so that the ends of line that bear the hooks are
kept by the force of the current at right-angles to the
main line.
But before the last of the lines has been allowed to
sink, another weighted cord has been fastened to it a
few yards from the hooked end and secured to a second
flagged buoy as before. Now comes half an hour’s—
perhaps an hour’s—rest for the men; it is probably all
they will get till the fishing is ended for the day; for
many boats carry an extra set of lines ready to be shot as
soon as these are pulled up. At the end of the half-hour
or hour, one of the buoy-lines is dragged up, and brings
with it the first part of the main-line. ‘These men are
now pulling up from eight to ten pounds’ worth of fish,
and the lines are worth even more; no wonder they haul
in carefully. The fish are coming to the top at last—
haddock, halibut, skate, ling, cod, gurnard, turbot, eels,
and plaice; rarely soles, for they can seldom be persuaded
to bite at a bait; they prefer a diet of mud, sewage, and
seaweed.
Some of the hooks are destitute of both fish and bait,
which means that the “five-fingers” and the crabs have
been indulging in an easily acquired meal; other hooks
bear mere useless lumber: sea-spiders, crabs, and_star-
fish that have been led to their ruin through over-much
greed. Occasionally the jawless ‘“hag-fish” appears ;
56
AND LINE-FISHING
this elegant creature has swallowed the hook entirely and
is trying to digest it.
To gaff and sort this collection is almost a day’s work
in itself, even if there were no second set of lines to see
to. But at last it is done; the fish lie in the hold
sprinkled with salt, and the smack runs for the shore.
There are plenty of people waiting for her; wives and
children of the crew, small salesmen with donkey-carts,
perhaps a big dealer or two from the towns. She comes
in as near as she can, then throws out a tow-line, which
is grabbed at by every man, woman, child, and dog that
is without other occupation, and the boat vigorously
hauled up by them, unless the beach happens to boast a
capstan. None so ready to bear a hand to help another
as the fisher-folk. When did you ever hear a fisherman
ask for help in beaching his boat? ‘They have been used
all their lives to aiding one another in that as well as in
more substantial ways than the mere lending a pull to a
boat or rope.
One of the dealers casts a calculating eye over the
catch, and makes his offer—which of course is not
accepted ; but, after a good deal of haggling, or perhaps
of auctioneering, the catch is sold.
Now the barrels of the dealers come rolling down the
shingle; every one pulls out a knife and begins cleaning
the fish as if his life depended on it; and, in less than
no time, they are packed and on their way to the railway
station, while the baskets of lines are carried home by the
fish-wives to be patiently cleaned and rebaited for the
next day’s toil.
57
SHRIMPING AND LINE-FISHING
Before we leave the subject of long-line fishing we
must notice that done in winter by the Yarmouth and
Cromer deep-sea fishermen when they are not trawling
or after the herring. Most of it is done from “hatch-
boats,” large single- or two-masted smacks like those used
for trawling, but differing in that they have a well—a
part of the hold into which water can be run; for the
men are often away some days at a time, and the fish—
cod and ling—have to be brought back alive.
If the North Countrymen’s lines were “long,” those
found here are unspeakable as regards length ; from seven
to ten miles of line are paid out by the hatch-boats,
often carrying five thousand hooks ata time. The ground
is the Dogger, the bait whelks and cuttle-fish. The
method of setting the lines is the same as that already
described.
There is another kind of tackle—a short long-line,
worked on the same principle, and known as a “ bulter.”
The Sussex fishermen use it with cuttle-fish bait for
congers, skate, and hake, shooting it from large rowing-
boats.
58
CHAPTER V
SALMON-FISHING AS AN INDUSTRY
The salmon—Annual migration—Jumping—Spawning—Fry, smolt,
and grilse—The Columbian grounds—Trap-nets—Seines—Hauling
in by horse-power—The fish-wheel—Salmon-fishing among the
Indians—Canadian moored gill-nets—Scandinavian fishery—The
Sogne and Hardanger fjérds—Natural Salmon-traps—Seines and
net-weirs—Lapps and Finns as fishers—The sea-swallow—Salmon-
netting at home—Close-time—Stake-nets and stow-nets.
the salmon from a strictly business point of view ;
the salmon as he is caught for sale and export, for
the benefit of persons who are content to purchase six-
pennyworth of him at a time and in a tin, or of those
who buy him fresh or dried at their fishmonger’s.
The supple, elegant form of the salmon is as familiar
to every one as is the delicate pink of its flesh. No fish
has been so written about, legislated about, experimented
on, undigested, and misunderstood ; few are more profit-
able from the fisher’s, tradesman’s, and doctor’s point of
view. ‘The fishery has been known at least as far back
as early in the Christian era, and the trade in dried
salmon is, at any rate in Scotland and Northumbria, a
very ancient one. At the time of Edward II’s conflict
with Bruce we find orders being given by the English
59
|: this chapter, be it understood, we are approaching
SALMON-FISHING AS AN INDUSTRY
King for three thousand dried salmon for the use of his
soldiers. Bergen, too, on the Norwegian coast, traces
its fishery back to medizval times.
The West Canadian and United States fishery, with
which we shall first deal, is the newest, and at the same
time the most profitable and most productive of any;
more than half a million cases of tinned fish being ex-
ported every year from round about the Fraser River
alone.
The annual migration of these fish is very remarkable.
They enter the rivers in spring, as soon as the waters
have become more or less swollen by the rains, swimming
in great numbers and usually in mid-stream and near the
surface. At the beginning of the migration the shoals
seem nervous and easily frightened; so much so that a
floating spar or bit of timber, or any shock such as the
blasting of rocks near at hand, has been known to drive
them out to sea again. But, once well in the stream,
their conduct is reversed; nothing will daunt them;
nothing will turn them back; rapids, currents, and whirl-
pools are matters of little moment to them; they will
spring from the low level to the top of a cascade ten or
fifteen feet high. ‘Their perseverance is astounding. On
reaching a cascade, a fish, making a bent spring of its
body by taking its tail in its mouth, will suddenly shoot
upwards, higher, perhaps, than the upper level, yet often
at an insufficient angle to enable it to reach it, and back
it falls with a crash, only to “get breath” and then make
another, possibly successful, attempt.
Sometimes, after a score of fruitless tries at jumping
60
SALMON-FISHING AS AN INDUSTRY
up, the salmon will apparently abandon the attempt,
remaining somnolent at the foot of the rapid; but all
it is doing really is harbouring its strength for a further
attempt, which the plucky creature will make after a few
days’ rest.
Another interesting point relating to the up-river
journey is the much-debated question as to whether the
fish possesses a memory. Scientific men are now satisfied
that the same fish frequently, though not invariably, visit
the same rivers for the spawning season; and many
authorities are of opinion that this is due to the exercise
of memory and preference; albeit others still maintain
that the salmon does not know the coast-line (being in the
habit of seeking deep water as soon as it reaches the sea
in its outward journey) and so enters the first river-mouth
it meets with, which often happens to be the same.
The Fraser, it may be remembered, is an exceptionally
swift-flowing river; yet salmon will swim up it at an
average rate of forty miles a day—a pace which they can
increase to nearly two hundred in calm water.
Having at length reached the shallower parts of the
stream near the source, the fish choose their spawning
grounds from the sandy river-bed, plough up the sand
with their snouts, working all the while against the
stream ; for if they worked with their heads down-stream
the water, running into their gills, would choke them. In
the furrow thus dug they deposit their eggs, carefully
covering them again with gravel.
By this time their appearance has undergone a curious
change; they have become thin and flabby and, if eaten
61
SALMON-FISHING AS AN INDUSTRY
at such a time, would be unwholesome if not poisonous.
The females have become almost black ; the cheeks of the
males are striped a red-gold, the body covered with the
same tint, and the lower jaw strangely elongated.
The spawning has occupied about a fortnight, at the
end of which time the fish lie about in the stream taking
the return journey by easy stages, till their strength is
recruited. Meanwhile the ova lie undisturbed, covered
up till about the end of the following March, when they
may be said to be hatched and have become “fry”; tiny,
ugly things, pale brown, crossed by a few grey marks.
The fry will remain in the river for perhaps another year
and, by then, they have become grey-green on the back
and silvery below, are nearly six inches long, and are
known no longer as fry but as “smolt.”
After two or three months in the sea they reappear at
the river-mouths weighing from three to four pounds,
which weight rapidly increases as they ascend the stream.
At this stage they are called “grilse.” Grilse remain up-
stream till the next winter, when they spawn and hence-
forth are dignified by the title of salmon.
The bulk of the American salmon comes from two
rivers—the Fraser and the Columbia, and from a huge
land-locked, natural harbour—Puget Sound, which, a
hundred miles long, runs southward from Juan de Fuca
Strait into the State of Washington. Thus the salmon
fishery of that quarter may be said to be divided almost
equally between ourselves and the Americans, Canada
having the Fraser, and the States the Columbia; while
the fish that leave the mouth of the Fraser become
62
*pjiom ayi jo sjied |]v 0} peyojyedsap pue pauuvo 10
peind aie ysy oY], ‘“SNOWIOUD SI SeTIeYsy esey} JO en]VA sy J, “e1OYSY $}U9JUOD $31 puv Jou dy} UMP ysnf dAeY SesIOY OY],
'V'S'Q ‘NODAAO ‘YHA VIEWOTOD WOWA NOW1VS ONILLAN
YAOX MAN] PUY UOpUoT "2 GS poomsapuyy GUsranJoD 0949S
Ser Ae Sighs 59
ete
SALMON-FISHING AS AN INDUSTRY
American property if they follow the southern current
down into Puget Sound, Canadian if they turn north-
wards into Queen Charlotte Sound.
There is little hope for the fish when they swim south-
wards, for, as may be seen from a map of Washington,
Puget Sound is a natural salmon-trap on a very large
scale, having but the one outlet, and that split up by a
small island; and it is doubly delusive on account of its
great depth, which leads the fish to suppose that they
have reached the open sea.
The fishing, which lasts about five months, begins in
April, and, in the Sound, is done chiefly by means of
trap-nets, consisting of a wall of netting, sometimes double
with a narrow space between the two. ‘These are moored
across current or are let down from platforms in the
quieter parts of the harbour.
In proportion to its size the salmon is one of the
strongest fish in creation: therefore only a stout net will
hold him; the meshes of such nets are made of what is
known as Barbour’s twine, a single thread of which would
hold a hundredweight and a half.
The trap-net is set late in the afternoon and left down
all night, and the fish, swimming with the tide, go
straight at the net, which, well weighted below, hangs per-
pendicularly ; small fish will be allowed to pass through
the meshes, but the larger ones soon find that where the
heads will go the shoulders will not follow; they can
proceed no further and, naturally, as soon as they try to
withdraw their heads, the cord slips itself under one of
the gills and they are “ unavoidably detained” henceforth.
63
SALMON-FISHING AS AN INDUSTRY
Next day comes the hauling up, which is done by cords
or levers; in the case of moored nets the catch is hauled
alongside the boats from which the nets were shot, but
traps are pulled straight up to the platform from which
they have been lowered, and are left hanging while the
net is cleared ; the fish as they are taken out are heaped
in boxes, sprinkled with salt, and taken ashore for drying.
Before leaving the Washington fishermen, we must
look at some of the work which they share with the
Oregon men on the Columbia River. Between Astoria at
the mouth of the Columbia and Portland, sixty miles
inland, is another valuable salmon ground; here the
seine, which has been briefly described in Chapter II, is
used in addition to the gill-net. As will presently appear,
the seine, even when used for little things like ancho-
vies and pilchards, is a weighty apparatus to draw ashore;
when it contains salmon it is almost ponderous enough to
call for steam-power.
The leaded net having been shot in a half-circle from a
couple of small boats, the tow-lines that are fixed to the
two edges are carried to the bank ; as the seine has prob-
ably been shot across stream, the rope attached to the
edge nearer the bank is naturally shorter. This one is
tied down as soon as it is landed, while the longer line is
hauled very slowly inwards, in such a manner that the
farther edge or wing of the seine is made to describe a
curve, and until the two wings are in line with the stream
and the tow-ropes of equal length again. During this
time many of the fish which have been going towards the
sea have come in contact with the net and, in their con-
64
SALMON-FISHING AS AN INDUSTRY
fusion, have been swept round by it; and, before they
can escape, it appears to them that they are walled in on
every side; the real fact of the case being that the left
wing of the seine has now been pulled round to where
the middle was at first, and the right wing has cut off the
retreat up stream. Well for those that have the sense to
see that so far escape is still, in reality, as possible as it
was at first, for the net has but changed its position.
But now the chances of freedom have begun to
diminish, for the left-hand tow-line being now crossed
over the right, the men on the bank begin to pull in two
different directions till the half-circle has become a whole
one. Above the net there is no escape, for the upper
edge is buoyed on the surface with bladders or corks, and
now that the edges are together, every step taken by the
haulers is lessening the opportunity of flight vid the
bottom. At last the seine-weights touch the mud, the
salmon are trapped beyond all hope of freedom, and
such a crowd of prisoners is there that the combined
efforts of the three or four men, who could easily tow it
while it was a floating concern, can now scarcely move
it an inch further. But two or three stout dray-horses
are in waiting; a rope or chain connected with the tow-
lines is hitched to them and the net-full drawn up high
and dry.
A little higher up the river a very curious form of trap
is in use—the fish-wheel, which is shaped and worked just
like an ordinary water-mill wheel, and over which the fish
are swept into a staked enclosure ; but most of the up-
river fishing is still in the hands of the remnants of the
E 65
SALMON-FISHING AS AN INDUSTRY
Indian tribes. ‘These catch the salmon more for their
own consumption than with a view to selling, though
some of the younger men make a good living by the sale
of their catches in the towns. Some of them use a kind
of landing-net, which they dip in front of any fish which
may come near enough to the surface.
But the spear is the more scientific and—among the
young Indians—the more popular implement. When you
get a couple of hundred miles up the Columbia it is full
of rapids, and at the foot of any one of these is the happy
fishing-ground of the natives. During the upward and
the downward migration the redskins, with light spears,
some tethered, some free, sit in their birch canoes and
watch for the jumping or the dropping of the salmon.
The accuracy with which these fellows aim is extra-
ordinary; some will stand and throw harpoons at the
curved, glistening bodies as they shoot through the air ;
others, more deft, will spit them as they rise or fall, never
leaving hold of the spear.
The Fraser fisheries are carried on in much the same
way as those of the Columbia, but a word or two ought
to be said about the Canadian river-mouth fishing, which
is done by moored gill-nets. 'The work connected with it
makes the river-bank fishing seem very safe and easy, for
it is done in small, two-manned boats, and often in as
choppy a sea as. the Pacific can boast—which just here,
almost within the sweep of the Japan kwro shiwo current,
can be very ugly when it likes. Here you may see a
couple of thousand small boats—for at least that number
is employed in the British Columbian fleet-—tossing about
- 66
SALMON-FISHING AS AN INDUSTRY
in Queen Charlotte Sound or Hecate Strait, setting or
hauling up nets, the only outward and visible sign of
which (while they are down) is a moored buoy. ‘The full
nets, on being dragged to the surface, are towed ashore or
to larger craft, others being left in their place.
When the fish have been taken to land, whether from
sea or river, sorting and cleaning begin. Doubtful or un-
sound fish are thrown aside with the waste; indeed, so
plentiful are the salmon that only the pick of them need
be saved; and, when it comes to the boiling, only the
prime parts cooked. Those for drying and smoking are
taken to a special warehouse for the process, which will
last some weeks; the others are boiled, often on the river-
bank itself, and are then handed over to Chinamen, by
whom practically the whole of the canning is done.
The Scandinavian fisheries, too, are profitable and
splendidly managed. An English fisherman once told me
that the Norwegian fishers were “the frightenest people”
he had ever seen, but the statement is libellous—or, at
any rate, untrue; for they are hardy fellows with older
sea traditions than our own and, whether working in the
sheltered fjérds or in the open sea, accept the dangerous
side of their trade as part of the day’s labour. ‘Though as
business-men they are keen enough, there is a suggestion
of romance about work done amid some of the most ex-
quisite scenery in the world, that is somewhat lacking
where the ultra-practical salmon-slaughter for dollars of
North America is concerned.
Here the river salmon-grounds are largely let to British
67
SALMON-FISHING AS AN INDUSTRY
sportsmen, so that the business part of the fishing is done
mainly in the fjérds and at the river-mouths.
How should a salmon know the difference between a
river-mouth and long, narrow openings into the land such
as the Sogne and Hardanger fjords, which, from the
open sea, look exactly like estuaries? He doesn’t, until
he has explored such openings; and this is a work of
time, for the Sogne Fjord is “all arms and legs.” Thirty
miles down it widens, basin-shaped ; a little further on,
a river-like opening runs up into the land on either side
and, beyond these creeks, are five others, two of them
nearly thirty miles long, very narrow, and winding away
into the Jotunfeld group, so that there is nothing but
salt water to distinguish them from short mountain
rivers. And not always that, for little streams of fresh
water empty themselves into one or two of these, and
are not infrequently used as spawning-grounds.
The narrower and more ramified fjérds, then, are even
more effectual salmon-traps than Puget Sound, for by the
time the fish that have escaped netting on their entry
from the Atlantic have finished their researches, they too
have become a prey to the snares and nets laid for them
in other parts of the opening.
For mid-fjérd and open-sea fishing the Norwegians
employ the same kind of seine as that used in the
Columbia River, though a good deal smaller, and worked
by a few small boats, which tow the gradually closing
net into the shallows for cleaning.
But a seine is a valuable article, not to be dragged
haphazard against rocks that, in less than a minute,
68
‘.
fe
i
Stereo Copyright, Underwood &.U. London and New York
SALMON-NETTING IN NORWAY
This huge stand is fixed on the shore ot the Sogne, the biggest of the
Norwegian fjords. ~
SALMON-FISHING AS AN INDUSTRY
would tear it to shreds; and both shores of the Sogne
Fjord are girt with such rocks, which at high water are
treacherously hidden ; so that to sweep the fish ashore
as in river work would be impossible. Here, then, some
other contrivance is called for, and the Norwegians supply
the deficiency by means of a trap peculiar to themselves.
A very rough, narrow-gangwayed pier is built out from
the beach, generally inclining upwards, so that to walk
to the far end of it is like going up a ladder. The gang-
way ends in a broad platform, and from one of the two
sides a net can be lowered. A gill-net—weighted, or tied
to the stanchions that support the platform—is sunk
from one of the sides, its lower edge reaching to the
sand, its upper covered at high water, but visible as soon
as the tide has run out. It is weighed up at intervals
and cleared from the platform or from the boats below.
While we are in the neighbourhood, we must take a
peep at the salmon-fishery as worked by the Lapps and
the Finnish peasant fishermen.
The Lapps use spears; also a small and very elementary
seine, and do their fishing from tiny, skin-covered canoes.
Before the boats go off, the men keep a careful eye round
for the sea-swallows, or the “luck-bringers,” as they call
them; small marine birds that, for some reason or other,
elect to follow the outward or inward course of the salmon,
and so are infallible guides to the fishermen. Where
they fly the boats follow; and so tame are the birds,
that many will take scraps of fish from the men’s hands.
The Finns go in for trapping; making a form of weir
which, at least in the last hundred years, has altered in
69
SALMON-FISHING AS AN INDUSTRY
no particular, for the traveller Acerbi describes just such
a contrivance, writing in 1801. Across the mouths of
the streams and small rivers they erect a palisade, extend-
ing from bank to bank, leaving only a small opening.
Between the posts, bushes and branches are thrust down,
and so the fish in their inland migration are forced to
pass through the single opening. Beyond it is a three-
sided net or moored seine, the middle of which is
elongated, folded, and made to lie flat. At intervals of
a couple of hours the net is lifted out bodily by men
standing on either bank, cleared, and put back.
We must now notice such of the British salmon-fishing
as does not come within the scope of the next chapter.
A fish at once so valuable and so plentiful would, if left
to the tender mercies of the public, have long ago been
extinct in these islands. Only legal protection could
save it; and from the signing of Magna Charta to the
present day, Sovereigns, Parliaments, Committees, and
Commissions have been busy drawing up and enforcing
regulations for the prevention of ruthless and indis-
criminate salmon-taking. Yet in spite of artificial breed-
ing, such as that carried on in the Tay, the salmon fishery
has decreased in recent years, partly on account of the
fouling of waters by land drainage and factories. With-
out going into tedious details it is sufficient here to say
that the law as it stands has fixed a close time for the
fish, has forbidden the use of what are called fixed engines,
i.e. permanent salmon-traps, and insists upon the registra-
tion of all nets.
70
SALMON-FISHING AS AN INDUSTRY
The close season, whether for nets or rods, varies slightly
in different parts of the country; but for nets it may
never be less than 154 days; and no fresh salmon taken
from any part of the United Kingdom may be sold
between September 3 and February 1, and none exported
between September 3 and April 30. Heavy penalties are
attached to the taking or selling of salmon, either im-
mediately before or immediately after spawning.
For the further protection of the fish, a weekly close
time has been settled of from forty-two to forty-eight
hours of each week-end in England, thirty-six in Scotland,
and forty-eight in Ireland.
Another legal point worth noting is as to the proprietor-
ship of the fish. In England they are common property
as long as they remain in the sea, and while in the rivers
they belong to the great landlords; but in Scotland the
sea-salmon, found between the shore and a mile beyond
low-water mark, belong to the Crown or those who hold
from the Crown.
The North Country fishing is done with a kind of seine
called a sweep-net, which the men shoot from small boats
(cobles). In towing ashore, the net is brought in half-
moonshaped instead of circular, and swiftly instead of
gradually. These nets are the only ones allowed in
estuaries, but others are used for shore-fishing and for
English and Scotch deep-water work. The stake-net, as
it is called, is found on various spots on the coast south of
the Tweed, and comes perilously near being a salmon-trap.
Two parallel rows of stakes covered with netting are placed
between the high- and low-water marks in such a manner
71
SALMON-FISHING AS AN INDUSTRY
as to serve as a channel up which the fish swim with the
current till they are driven, through openings at the end,
into a “court” or enclosed net, whence there is no escape.
The catching done in deeper water is by stow-nets or
“bags,” which are sunk from smacks, and are like those
which some of the Scotch fishermen use in the estuaries
for mackerel, etc. In shape there is little to distinguish
the “bag” from the ordinary trawl-net; it has a beam
as described in Chapter III, and is shot in a somewhat
peculiar manner. When the boat is ready to drop the
net, she is hove-to, and a couple of bridles which are
attached to the mouth of the net then have their free
ends fastened to the anchor which, on being dropped,
helps to sink the net, and eventually moors both net and
boat. In this way the mouth of the net is held com-
fortably open for the fish to swim into ; and, as has been
already shown, their intelligence is seldom equal to the
task of showing them a way out again. -
All English and Irish salmon-nets are taxed, the rates
ranging from £3 to £20; in Ireland up to £30.
72
CHAPTER VI
FISHING AS A SPORT
Angling—Salmon-fishing —Tackle—Ireland and Norway—Piscator jit,
non nascitur—Casting—A real bite—A long spell of hard work—
** Sulking ”—Gaffing—Fishing in the Jotunfeld—High jumpers—
To America for sport—The tarpon—Tarpon-tackle—A nasty sea
—A big leap—Towed along—Fairly hooked—Sharks !—Other
sport.
LTHOUGH this book deals chiefly with the fisheries
A which are important industries, space must be
found for a few pages on the subject of fishing
as it is undertaken by amateurs.
If there is an angling that is the lazy man’s sport—an
excuse for spending tranquil hours in pleasant scenery—
there is also an angling that requires undivided attention,
perseverance, skill, endurance, and often physical strength,
and those who devote themselves to it may justly rank
as higher-grade sportsmen, the equals and often the
superiors of the deer-stalkers.
Salmon-fishing comes under the second class; in fact
it stands well ahead of all other branches of angling.
From the details given in the last chapter it will have
been seen that this fish spends the greater part of its
time in rivers, and that much of that time is taken up
with spawning. The close season for rod-and-line salmon-
fishing does not begin till two months after that for
73
FISHING AS A SPORT
netting, though it ends at the same date; ninety-two
days is the minimum. As many salmon do not spend
more than two or three months out of the twelve in the
sea, the angler has about half the year wherein to pursue
his sport.
Two typical salmon countries are Ireland and Norway,
though their rivers have little in common, for those of
Ireland flow through a country that, in comparison with
Norway, is flat and even, and they have very little of the
mountain-torrent about them. Norway, on the other
hand, is a land of strong-current rivers, often marked by
waterfalls and cascades, where only the strenuous fisher
will dream of angling. Scotland as a salmon country has
been discussed in the last chapter; for sport most men
prefer it to Ireland.
Salmon tackle varies much, according to the use that is
going to be made of it. Are you going to fish from a
boat on a lake, or from the bank of a river; or are you
prepared to don thigh-boots and be almost washed off
your feet by the torrent, and possibly get a box on the
ears from a jumping salmon ?
The rod used is generally seventeen or eighteen feet
long, with ashen butt, the two middle joints of hickory,
and the top one of a tough, elastic West Indian wood,
commonly known as lance-wood. ‘The line, which, of
course, may be of any length, is made of specially pre-
pared oiled silk, or of a mixture of silk and horse-hair ;
the casting-line—usually about nine feet long—is of twisted
gut, and tapers towards the end. One angler will carry
fifty yards of line, another a hundred; for boat-fishing
74
SALMON-FISHING FOR PLEASURE IN A HIGHLAND RIVER
ea
FISHING AS A SPORT
most men will take a couple of hundred. The same with
baits; will you have a fly—and, if so, of what sort r—
a spinning-bait, a prawn, a minnow, a lob-worm, or a
cockle? Many anglers prefer a small, sober-coloured fly ;
but in the Irish rivers you are almost sure to find a large
and gaudy red-cock hackle, ribbed with gold, with wings
of drake’s, woodcock’s, or mallard’s feathers, set very wide
apart. But there are special considerations that, in the
main, determine the question of the sort of fly that it will
be best to pin your faith to; the time of year, the depth
and degree of clearness of the water, and many other
varying circumstances, not forgetting individual prefer-
ences ; every man who has fished for several years should
be the best judge of what suits him personally.
All the Irish rivers are more or less salmon-yielding ;
so are all the fresh-water loughs that are the source or
the outlet of rivers—Neagh, for instance. The Shannon,
which is so fertile in salmon as almost to rival some of
the North American streams, has rapids below Lough
Derg; many of the smaller streams, too, have their
“salmon-leaps,” enticing enough to the fisherman who
cannot get as far as the more exciting Scandinavian
grounds. The fishing in both countries is now almost
entirely proprietary.
A successful salmon-fisher is made, not born; nor can
he become one by reading books on the subject. For the
beginner who has grit in him there is always hope. Let
him serve his apprenticeship to an old hand and, with
a little common observation and a good deal of patient
practice, the learner will at last become a fisherman.
75
FISHING AS A SPORT
True, the talk about having “an angler’s eye” is not all
cant; but generally the man who is observant over the
things of everyday life will be so over his sports; in-
tuitive knowledge alone never yet caught a salmon,
though with luck added it might.
The complete salmon-fisher is the man who knows
properly where and how to throw his fly, how to control
it when it is in the river, how to hook the fish when he
comes within reach, and finally how to manage and play
him till he is landed or brought within gaffing distance.
In throwing the fly, accurate judgment of distance is
very necessary, and this again is largely a question of
practice. In bank-fishing the angler, holding the rod in
both hands, the left some little distance above the winch,
the right below it, carries rod and line in an easy, gentle
sweep over the left shoulder, till his left arm is raised in
a line with his body, and he feels that the line is stretch-
ing behind him in the air; then, as though he were going
to hit something with his rod, he brings it smartly for-
ward, and this, neatly and properly done, the forward
progress of the rod being checked at the right moment,
has the effect of dropping the gut-line lightly on the
water with the fly as near as may be to the desired
position. If he happens to be fishing from the left bank,
the positions of the hand and body as just given will be
reversed.
For many reasons the salmon-angler will fish against
the current; chief among these being, first, that, as already
stated, the fish can only lie with their heads pointing up
the stream, and therefore cannot see the angler when he
70
FISHING AS A SPORT
is behind them; second, the salmon-fly, being usually
large and heavy-winged, would, if carried along by the
current, topple over and look unnatural; whereas,
properly guided up stream, it deludes the fish into the
belief that it is some gaudy creature swimming spas-
modically against the tide. Therefore, the moment the
fly touches the water it is pulled round without delay into
the line of the current.
Next, the fly must be made to show itself to its best
advantage and in all its glory. The rod is gently raised,
and the fly, rising with it, has its possibly ruffled plumes
smoothed down to its sides by the pressure of the water
above it ; then, lowering the rod again just as carefully,
the angler sinks his fly once more; and this time the
water resistance being under it, the fibres of the wings
are spread open in a natural manner, displaying the
brilliant colouring of the fly, which is now in a condition
to beguile the first salmon that comes within sight of it.
Henceforward the conscientious angler has no thought
to bestow on temperature or scenery or hunger or fatigue ;
eye and thought are both riveted on the graceful silvery
creature that is following the fly. He has heard—as
who has not?—of the lucky fisherman who once took,
with small trout tackle, a salmon in the Shannon that
weighed over forty-five pounds, and that required five
hours’ playing before it was exhausted. There are salmon
weighing over fifty pounds in this river and, by the help
of the gods, he means to catch one of them.
Talking of weight, it must be borne in mind that the
age of the salmon is no guarantee for its size. There are
77
FISHING AS A SPORT
some Irish rivers in which ten pounds is a good weight
for the adult fish; there are others, the Shannon, the
Suir, and the Blackwater, for example, where even grilse
attain that size. The weight of the fish depends mainly
on the length of time that he is content to remain in the
sea, and on the sort of food in which he indulges while
there. Undoubtedly he has spells of greediness come
over him from time to time, but he does not always
choose the most “frame-forming” food. ‘The stomachs
of those taken from the sea are often found to contain
eels and other fish, though those of fresh-water salmon
rarely show anything but digested food, which seems to
point to the fact that, while in the rivers, they eat more
sparingly and at more lengthy intervals.
Now let us suppose that a salmon has taken the bait,
for, if bent on it, he will assuredly have it sooner or
later. Unlike most river fish, he will rise over and over
again to the same fly, seldom leaving it till he has taken
it; but, if he should happen to be only partially hooked,
the angler may as well say good-bye to him, as he will
scarcely be likely to venture near the bait a second time.
As soon as he is fairly hooked, the difference between
the experienced hand and the learner shows itself very
markedly ; the former keeps cool and watches his oppor-
tunities, the latter will probably lose his head; though
this unfortunate condition is not confined to the be-
ginner, for some tried and mighty fishers will confess to
experiencing a sudden fit of “nerves” whenever they
hook a fish of any size.
As soon as the fish has taken the fly the angler’s first
78
FISHING AS A SPORT
care is to see that he is properly hooked, and then to
tire him out. The fisher gives him a minute in which to
swallow the fly comfortably; and then, with a subtle
twitch, he fixes the hook firmly. What will follow is
problematical. The fish, at the first touch of pain, may
double himself up and spring into the air, kicking and
plunging, to get rid of his tormentor ; he may rush about
backwards and forwards as if possessed, not knowing
which way to turn; again he may, and probably will,
dash up or down the stream for all he is worth; in any
case, “give him plenty of line,” say the authoritative
anglers. Whatever course his unfortunate victim may
choose to follow, the sportsman has now a good hour’s
hard work before him if the catch is of any size; perhaps
three or four hours.
His excitement must be tempered by watchfulness and
judgment and dogged perseverance. The fish is darting
up or down the river at lightning speed, and the sports-
man, utterly unable to control it, is meekly following.
Suddenly, perhaps, it turns and courses at a similar pace
in the opposite direction, thinking nothing about the
costly tackle which it is jeopardizing, except to rid itself
of it. At last it pulls up short; it has found a pro-
jecting bank on the other side of the stream. Here it
ean “sulk” at its leisure; and it does, perhaps for an
hour, till the exasperated fisher begins to long for a stout
hempen cord with which to haul it in, hand-over-hand
like a cod-fish. Tugs and jerks will not move it; the
only sign of life that it gives is an occasional start, and
an unqualified and persistent refusal to be “ wound up.”
79
FISHING AS A SPORT
The angler begins to speculate; he may have hooked
the traditional anvil or ploughshare (every Irish guide
knows a man who once landed something of the sort);
what is far more reasonable to suppose is that he has
hooked a powerful and wily salmon which, unless closely
looked after, may lie still till it has chafed the gut-line
through against the stones. Desperate at the bare
thought of losing a possible forty-five pounder, he nerves
himself once more to the effort and, this time, the fish
allows itself to be dislodged and drawn into mid-stream ;
then, with new life, endeavours to spurt off up the river
again. But, taking in the line, a little now and a little
then, “putting the strain on” whenever possible, the
angler at last brings the monster within reach of the gaff
—if he does not actually land the catch, as his sports-
man’s amour propre bids him at least try to do.
Even over the gafling there will often be a keen
struggle, for the fish has a trick of being just an inch or
two beyond the reach of the hook, and the hapless keeper
or other person to whom falls the duty of manipulating
it, discovers that he can only do so by throwing one half
of his body over the stream at the risk of finding the
other half over-balanced by it. When he has at last
succeeded in getting the gaff under the fish, he strikes
swiftly up, fixing the hook behind one of the breast fins,
or, if possible, under the gills; and then, by means of
his feet, wriggles back and back till he and his struggling
prey roll over one another to a safe part of the bank, as
likely as not entangling themselves in the angler’s line
in so doing.
80
FISHING AS A SPORT
Hitherto we have only considered the fortunes of the
man who fly-fishes a river from the bank. Many sports-
men would consider this tame work, preferring the ex-
citement of wading waist-deep up a mountain stream in
Norway that has no tow-path; in the rocky beds of the
Jotunfield streams or lakes, for instance, where the water
is walled in by sharp crags, and cut off from the rest of
the world by snowy mountain-peaks. Such beds suit
salmon that are of a sulky turn of mind; for they can
lie between a couple of large stones, or in an unsuspected
hollow that leads abruptly out of the shallows, and
meditate to their hearts’ content. Nowhere, in fact, if
they can help it, will these fish stop to rest on a smooth,
shallow bottom, any more than they will remain in long,
straggling streams that begin and end nowhere, as one
may say; a short, rapid, broken-bedded stream leading to a
lake, or not far from the sea, is an ideal ground for them.
In fishing among the rocks and sunken tree-roots, many
anglers consider a mussel, cockle, or prawn a very killing
bait. An unweighted line is cast into the meeting point
of two currents formed by rocks that stand opposite each
other, or into the shallows near a hole, and is allowed to
be carried by the force of the water among the stones or
over where the salmon lies in hiding. In all probability
the fish will not be able to resist the temptation long, for
the angler is offering it the kind of food on which it was
wont to fatten while in the sea. All in a moment the
line is jerked furiously and the salmon springs with all
its force out of the water, drops again, and dives back
among the hollows or stones. At such a time it behoves
F 81
FISHING AS A SPORT
the sportsman to be very wide awake if he is not to lose
the catch; he must sneak every half-inch of line he can,
and so proportionately reduce the chances of the salmon’s
tumbling across the slack of it in its fall; for such an
accident seldom fails to jerk the prisoner free again ; in
any case, if it jumps up repeatedly, it is pretty safe sooner
or later to free itself.
But with all its changes and chances, and in spite of
cold unspeakable and wettings that suggest rheumatic
fever, the sportsman to whom the choice is open—Norway
or Britain—will not hesitate to decide in favour of the
former.
Salmon-fishing is a sport full of excitement, but many
people say there is another more exciting still. Since
facilities for quick travel have increased, sportsmen have
been diligently seizing the opportunity of fishing or
hunting for game whose habitat is so far removed from
their own homes that at one time the pursuit of it by
Englishmen was only dreamt of when they happened to
be “on their travels.” A few generations back, to go
fishing in Norway or Russia was looked upon as pushing
sport to the limits of wicked waste of time, on account
of the distance; and a person who talked of going even
to America for shooting, would have been regarded as
a maniac. But all that is changed, and now the man
who can afford the requisite time and money is allowed
to plan a fishing-trip to the Gulf of Mexico and round
about Florida Strait without having his sanity called in
question by his friends. To run over to America to fish
82
FISHING AS A SPORT
for the flying or jumping monsters that in past ages fell
to the harpoons of races that the world no longer knows,
has become as popular an amusement as an Indian tiger-
shooting holiday was to our fathers.
Among these American wonders the best known to
twentieth-century folk is the tarpon, a salt-water fish at
one time erroneously called the Jew-fish. (The Jew, it
should be stated, is a creature much longer than the
tarpon, and often three or four times as heavy.) He is
a magnificent blue and silver monster, a close relative
of the herring ; is from five to seven feet long, and may
weigh anything from one to two hundred pounds. The
body is covered with scales, some of them three and four
inches wide; the back fin is very high, with a filament
behind, the eyes and mouth very large, the latter oblique.
As food the flesh is of doubtful value.
Like the salmon, it has the power of springing out of
the water at will, though its method of doing so differs.
In fact, it is often included among the flying-fish; fish,
that is, that on account of the extraordinary length of
their breast-fins, are able to leap from the water and make
some show of supporting themselves in mid-air for a brief
period. If the tarpon does not strictly come under this
zoological species, it at least spends its days in the com-
pany of fish that do; for though its home is well above
the Tropic of Cancer, the reader will, no doubt, remem-
ber that the Gulf Stream, which leaves the Gulf of
Mexico wid the Strait of Florida, gives almost a tropical
character to that part of the Atlantic and its inmates;
for the temperature of the water at the surface is 81° F.
83
FISHING AS A SPORT
To talk of catching a hundredweight fish with rod and
line sounds rather absurd, till we come to look closely into
the sport. The tackle required is a stout eight-foot rod,
a line made of linen, from one to two hundred yards long,
and a hook baited with a bit of fish. Obviously there is
no scope here for the angler who wants to loaf at his work.
The fishing is done from light rowing-boats, generally at
low water, and, by the more earnest sportsman, at night,
for then the tarpon more readily seizes the bait.
The season is a short one, lasting but two months
(April and May). Perhaps there is no reason why it
should not begin a little earlier, but after May, apart
from such minor inconveniences as mosquitoes, sharks, and
excessive heat, tropical cyclones are liable to come and
trouble the waters, sending heavy storm-tides ashore and
making things uncomfortable even for large ships. At
the best of times it is unwise to venture far in a boat
without a guide who knows the current, as well as the lie
of the fish. Some men risk going out alone, anchor their
boat and wait for a possible bite, taking their chance of
what may happen when the fish begins to kick, if indeed
they ever hook one.
Experienced tarpon-anglers maintain that there is little
to learn in the sport; that the man (by the way, many
ladies go tarpon-fishing nowadays) who has nerve and
muscle and some notion of managing his winch, possesses
all the stock-in-trade required. And sure it looks easy
enough ; all you have to do is to sit on a thwart, or ina
chair, with the butt of your rod supported by a holder
slung from your belt. At least that is the first part of the
34
FISHING AS A SPORT
programme ; in the second you may get a bite. When
_ this occurs the tarpon does not leave you in doubt for long ;
for, as often as not, as soon as he is hooked you hear a
splash and a rustle, and the giant springs up into the air
to a height of eight if not ten feet, shaking and clattering
its gills as though with fury, jerking with all the force of
its hundred or hundred and fifty pounds to rid itself of
the hook ; then, before you are quite clear as to what will
be your—and his—next move, falling back on the water
with noise enough to deafen one. Did you ever see, and
hear, a very fat swimmer who had not the faintest notion
of diving, throw himself from a high diving-board? The
tarpon’s drop is just such an ear-splitting crash, and woe
to the oar whereon it shall fall, or the boat either, for
that matter; for if an eleven-stone man falls into a light
boat from a height of ten feet, the odds are in favour of a
breakage or a swamp; and an eleven-stone tarpon, though
not exactly “a like cause,” will probably produce a like
result.
Night-time may be better for the sport, but the person
who wants to get a good insight into it, and who has
never seen the marvels of that quasi-tropical sea, will go
by day, taking with him a guide who knows what to do
with a pair of sculls, and who will keep his “fare” as far
from other boats as is convenient. To have your own
fish, or one that is jumping for refuge from submarine
enemies, drop on to your head is quite bad enough; you
do not want to be troubled with other people’s. Perhaps
your first cast is a lucky one; you are in deep water with
a tide that is beginning to run in smoothly and gently ;
85
FISHING AS A SPORT
and the sudden, rapid rush of the line over the multiplier
(a winch whose inner cylinder revolves three or four times
to one turn of the handle) tells you that you have made a
strike, even if the fish fails tojump. Let him have line—
a hundred yards if he wants it; and let him tow you as
far as he feels inclined.
Suddenly he makes a leap, and you had better obey to
the letter the guide’s injunction to “hold on”; for, when
the fish kicks, there is reasonable probability of the rod’s
being unceremoniously jerked out of your hands. You
have no time to notice other smaller flying fish that
whizz past your ears; someone in the next boat has just
fired a gun, and you do not even speculate as to whether
you were the target or no, for you are carried away by ex-
citement and a ten-stone fish. ‘The tarpon drops again,
but springs up once more almost before he is down,
tugging more desperately than ever.
This time, however, he does not come up unaccom-
panied. What are those things bobbing about where he
has just left the surface? Shark-snouts; three of them!
You have no longer any need to wonder at that gun-shot,
and at present you have not time; you cannot even stop
to weigh your own chances of finding yourself in the
midst of those vicious-looking muzzles; for, with a final,
fruitless jerk, the tarpon signifies his acceptance of the
inevitable; drops, reduces his speed, and allows himself
to be drawn alongside for gaffing—for only an experienced
fisher will try to run his catch ashore.
Then, when the excitement is all over and you have
leisure to think of what might have happened, you
86
FISHING AS A SPORT
decide not to put off your sport another year till the
end of the season, when the sharks are coming close in to
shore.
Other exciting sport in this neighbourhood is afforded
to anglers by Jew-fish, king-fish, gar-fish, and other
strange creatures that leap or fly; and, to harpooners, by
the devil-fish, or whip-ray.
87
CHAPTER VII
THE COD-FISHERY (I)
The Breton ‘Icelanders ”—Seeing the fleet off—A twelve-hundred
mile voyage in a cockle-shell—Life on board—Iceland in sight—
Cod-fishing—An average catch—A big catch in a calm—Cleaning
and salting—Breaks in the monotony—Homeward bound.
() may expect to see the cod in almost any part
of the ocean; it is always putting in an appear-
ance; we find it in the trawl, in the shrimp-net,
even in the oyster-dredge. Perhaps there is no more
popular table fish, for it is wholesome, digestible, satisfy-
ing, and usually reasonable in price. So popular is it
(even apart from its value as an oil-producer), that few
southern countries can keep their markets supplied with-
out going further afield than their own waters. Our
Scotch and East Coast cod-fisheries are by no means
inconsiderable; yet our annual importation of cod is
something enormous.
The bulk of the world’s supply comes from (a) the
Iceland Banks, (b) the Newfoundland Banks; and it is
with these grounds that we shall specially concern our-
selves in this and the next chapter.
How is it, we may well ask, that, after so many
centuries of fishing, the cod has not become a rarity for
88
THE COD-FISHERY
for which epicures would be prepared to pay fabulous
prices? For a thousand years the industry has been
pursued pretty regularly off Iceland; for four hundred
off the American Banks; yet, at the present day, the
supply is most likely larger than it has ever been; the
fishery giving employment to 150,000 vessels and 700,000
men.
The reason is that the cod reproduces its species at a
rate that is out of all proportion to that of most other
fish. If the reader will bear in mind that one roe
contains at the very least somewhere about six million
eggs, he will see that there is nothing particularly out-
rageous in the boast made by an old French fisherman of
having caught five hundred cod with hook and line in one
day of ten hours.
The fishery off the Iceland coast is carried on by a few
Danish, Norwegian, and British crews, but mainly by
French, the season lasting all the summer long. ‘The
majority of the French boats taking part in the trade
are from Brittany—broad-beamed, substantial-looking
yawls, manned by the strongest and sturdiest fellows to be
found in the country. Brittany, indeed, has its special
hereditary Iceland fleet ; men whose fathers, grandfathers,
and great grandfathers have, like themselves, worked on
the Banks year by year from February to August or
September, and who, from boyhood to old age, have
never enjoyed a southern summer.
For Brittany is a district of granite and moorland,
where agricultural labour is at a discount ; and from time
immemorial the inhabitants have been obliged to expect
89
THE COD-FISHERY
their harvest from the sea rather than from the land ;
and inasmuch as the proceeds of the sardine and herring
fishery are insufficient to meet the needs of the population,
it is not unnatural that the bolder fishermen—men into
whose very blood the sea seems to have worked its way—
should be willing to risk their lives in one of the most
paying branches of their trade, even though it is carried
on twelve hundred miles away from home, and even
though that particular kind of fishing is attended with
greater danger than any other.
Twelve hundred miles of the Atlantic! And ina craft
that, by the side of a steamer (which itself requires ten or
twelve days for the passage), looks like a toy boat! Yet
the light-hearted Bretons appear to see little to fear in
the venture. In some cases they are buoyed up with
their piety, and their trust in the Higher Powers ; in
others, they feel secure in their belief in some little pet
superstition of their own. Doubtless there is a good
deal of fiction about the “dangers of the deep.” Perhaps
most of us have a very exaggerated idea as to the
number of seamen who are drowned in the course of a
year; nor is it to be denied that many of the deaths
which do occur can be traced to carelessness or fool-
hardiness on the part of someone or other. At the same
time, there is unquestionably a large loss of life every
season, and no fishermen contribute more to the sad list
than the cod crews.
Before the Breton fleet starts, the crews make every
effort to invoke the protection of Heaven. If a boat is
going out for the first time it must be solemnly conse-
go
THE COD-FISHERY
crated by the parish priest. The smack, decorated and
covered with sail-cloth or a tarpaulin, is blessed and
sprinkled with holy water in the presence of the armateur,
i.e. the owner, or the man at whose expense she is fitted
out—and of the crew; then follows the ornamenting of
the cabin with religious and other pictures, a crucifix, or
an image of La Sainte Vierge, and—alack !—paper
flowers. This little function is followed by a meal of
bread and jam, cake, and wine; and, later, by what
Englishmen would call a sing-song.
The final preparations for departure in February or
March are picturesque in the extreme, and, by contrast,
the start of an English fleet seems prosaic and unroman-
tic. The stores, the barrels of salt, the lines, and the
handkerchief-wardrobes have all been taken aboard ; the
boats are gay with flags ; the tugs are lying off the quay,
waiting to tow them out to sea, two, three, or four at
a time; and the men are now only waiting to receive the
Church’s benediction, and to bid farewell to the relatives,
friends, and sweethearts who have flocked down to the
harbour. From a little temporary altar set up on the
quay, the priest, preceded by enfants de chaur bearing
lighted candles, incense, and holy water, carries the Sacred
Host round the harbour; the fleet is solemnly blessed,
good-byes are said, and the boats are soon off on their
long voyage.
With fair weather, the “Icelanders” have two periods
of comparative leisure to look forward to; the journey
out and the journey home. ‘The crew consists of seven or
eight hands, and an Iceland yawl can be managed
OI
THE COD-FISHERY
moderately comfortably by three men and a “ mousse,” or
cabin-boy ; therefore the fishermen can take “ turn and
turn about.” ‘The spare time is filled up with gossip,
draughts, dominoes, or cards ; with sorting and inspecting
the fishing-lines, or washing and mending of clothes.
Laundry-work aboard is a very simple matter. Stockings
and shirts are rubbed and wrung in a bucket of water and
hung on the boom to dry; blouses or “ jumpers”—the
short, coarse linen dress worn over the jersey—are spread
out on deck, liberally soused with pails of water, and
scrubbed with the deck-brush.
The days pass quite quickly enough, each seeming
colder than the one before as the vessel gets further
north. England, Ireland, and Scotland have been left
behind long ago; the Faroe Islands are passed without
even being sighted ; the boat has come within the region
of the “midnight sun.” Often rain, fog, or snow en-
velops each smack, perhaps cutting it off from sight of
its nearest neighbours. ‘The men have packed away their
woollen or skin caps and donned their sou’"-westers—head-
gear picturesque enough to the artist and the landsman,
but abhorred of all sailors, for that the heat of them
makes a man bald before his time. The Bretons have
given up expecting calm weather for the next month
or two; at 60.0 N., 20.0 W., they know little about
smooth seas; the boats are nearing the Iceland and
Greenland Banks. Away to the east a few Norwegian
whalers are pitching and heeling ; now and again, from
behind or in front, sounds the hoot of a steamer, bound
from Copenhagen, Leith, and the Faroes for Reikjavik ;
g2
THE COD-FISHERY
sometimes a hollow, uncanny shout comes across the
water from a neighbouring smack: ‘Who are you?
Is that the Rose? How do you like this, mon vieux ?”
Suddenly, perhaps, the mist clears, and the rocky,
cheerless coast of Iceland comes in sight. Bearing north-
west, the boats make for where the sea seems smoother,
yet is bubbling and boiling and seething with white foam.
Now the lower western point of the island is on their
right ; if the air were a little clearer the outline of the
nearest of the hospitable fjérds, whither the fishers must
retire in exceptionally dangerous weather, would be visible;
as it is, all that can be seen is the lava plain south
of Reikjavik. Further still to westward, the little corner
peninsula is almost out of sight again; the Banks are
reached at last—the home, for the next five months, of
the cod-crews.
There is bustle enough on board now: sail to be taken
in, salt-tubs to be dragged out of the hold, knives to be
sharpened, hooks and lines to pass final examination.
To-morrow fishing will begin.
At first the catches seem poor ; either the season has
not really begun, or the men are out of gear and have not
got back to the old working groove yet. Codding is not
work for weaklings. On the Iceland Banks the muscular
labour is even greater than on the Grand Banks, where
the fishing is mainly done from small boats ; here the line
must be hauled up every time on to the deck of the smack.
A cod sometimes measures three feet from tip to tail;
it weighs from half to three-quarters of a hundredweight
—often nearly a hundred pounds. Think what it means
93
THE COD-FISHERY
to haul up two or three hundred of such burdens a day ;
or, at busy times, to work for fifteen hours with only
a short break for dinner, pulling up, on an average, one
fish every three minutes! Unless unusually stormy
weather forces the boats to seek shelter for a time in the
natural harbours of the Breidifjérd or the Faxafjord, you
may say that the fishing never stops as long as the season
lasts, except when in fairly slack times, the crew meet
over the cabin fire for an hour’s chat and smoke before
one half “turns in” and the other half starts on the
night work.
While the catches do not rise much above the average,
a couple of men can be spared to do the cleaning and
salting as the fish are drawn up. Watch the fishers at
their work. The main-sail has been pulled round to lee-
ward, and on the opposite side of the deck are four line-
men and two cleaners, the former standing about ten feet
apart in order to avoid fouling, ie. getting one line
entangled with another; the latter squatting on the deck,
waiting for the others to give them something to do.
That “ something” will soon come. The long, plummeted
lines, scarcely the thickness of a blind-cord, slip merrily
through the men’s fingers; at last one slackens—it has
touched bottom—then a second. A third does not reach
the bottom at all; a hungry cod, swimming downwards
from a little below mid-water, has spied the bait—prob-
ably a bit of cuttle-fish—and, the next moment, the
fisherman shouts proudly: “Good; Ive got the first
fish |”
“You think so?” asks a stronger, older man, as he feels
94
THE COD-FISHERY
the little vibratory “ nubbling ” that experience has taught
him is a bite. With a loud laugh, he begins to haul in
like fury, hand over hand, the sodden line falling in snaky,
oval coils between his sea-booted legs. 'The cleaners lean
over the side, laughing, too, at the friendly rivalry between
the fishers, and watching with a sort of gambler’s interest
to see whose fish will come up first.
Plomb! Splash! The stronger man has won after all,
though he had to pull from the bottom. Up comes a cod
as big round as his thigh, “kicking” and struggling and
wriggling as it falls on the deck; and before the hook is
disgorged another, equally big, lies by its side; and in
less than a minute a couple more are jerked out of the
water and left near them. Down go all four lines again,
but the cleaners calmly go on finishing their pipes ; they
want to see something of a heap before they begin ; hard
work will come quite soon enough without going to meet
it. The minutes drag on; the four fish have became
eight, and the eight sixteen. Some are lying motionless,
others are gasping and flapping their tails as if in feeble
protest; poor creatures, their flapping days are nearly
over.
The cleaners have to bestir themselves now. Near
them is a barrel of salt, the head of which has been
knocked in; each scoops from it sufficient to make a good
heap which he deposits at his side, and the task of salting
begins. Every fish is carefully ripped up, gutted, and
well coated inside and out with salt; then laid out flat,
and stacked one above another in an ever increasing heap.
Presently one of the crew will come along with cases, into
95
THE COD-FISHERY
which the piles of fish are carefully packed with yet more
salt, and all will be safely stowed within the hold.
By mid-season the fish have increased in size and seem-
ingly in number. Naturally no two weeks’ catches are
alike. In most fishing fleets, no matter of what sort, you
will nearly always find one skipper who is more knowing,
or has the reputation for being more knowing, than his
fellows. “Show me where old So-and-so fishes,” says one
of the crew, “and I'll tell you where to get a good haul.”
Wherever he goes, others will try to follow. Some of the
more independent, however, are content to roam over the
otherwise neglected ground—and as often as not it is
they who get the haul, and not the knowing ones or their
followers. We know, of course, there are old stagers so
shrewd and so observant that they know, almost literally,
every square yard of the ground ; and such men will catch
a boat-load while others get nothing. But cod are not
like oysters or sponges; they want to move about, and at
times move very swifty; so that the boat that toils in
vain for several hours may at any moment have a shoal
of fish under her, so eager for prey that they could almost
be caught with the naked hook.
Once in a way, as summer advances, the sea round the
Banks condescends to lie still for a space. The wind drops ;
there is a dead calm; the sunlit water looks as if it could
not be rough if it tried, and grows so clear that you can
almost see to the bottom. One of the men pauses in his
fishing to jerk a remark over his shoulder to the skipper,
who has deserted his useless helm. The “patron” looks
over the bulwarks, turns away again rubbing his hands,
96
THE COD-FISHERY
and shouts to the two or three lads or men who are
resting: ‘ Now then, come on! No skulking ; it’s harvest-
time!” The tired fellows know what is meant, and every-
one pulls himself together with a good will. Eyjacula-
tions of joy or surprise escape them as they look over
the gunwale and mechanically uncoil the lines, or bait the
hooks. For down below are thousands, nay millions, of
full-sized cods, with steely backs and silver bellies, dash-
ing up and down in line, or lying motionless and looking
upwards as if they had come to be fed.
There is no talk of cleaning or salting now; that
must all be done afterwards. Every man throws in his
line, knowing that long before the hook reaches the bottom
he will feel the sudden little shock that announces a
capture; and this must go on hour after hour, perhaps all
through the night, in spite of stiffening muscles and
aching backs. At last the shoal thins down; half the
crew falls out and, by way of rest, sets to work on the
gigantic mound of fish ; obliged first to kneel, then stand,
then stoop, in order to keep themselves awake ;
“¢ Achin’ for an hour’s sleep, dozin’ off between,”
as Mr. Kipling hath it. Already the day is dawning, not
as we understand dawn in England, for it has not been
really dark all night; but the ghostly yellow light is
growing of a whiter shade. Presently the sky will redden,
the dun-coloured clouds will part, and it will be morning.
Meanwhile the wind has got up; the halliards rattle
petulantly and there is a mournful creaking and sighing in
the shrouds. A summer storm is coming on ; maybe only
& 97
THE COD-FISHERY
a squall; maybe one of those terrible tempests that,
before the fleet can run towards Reikjavik, will have put
an end to more than one of the plucky little Breton
yawls. But, be it squall or tempest, it will interfere with
the fishing for the time being, so it is no wonder that the
men have been anxious to profit by the recent calm.
There is another aspect, too, of that calm and the
ensuing storm. They are tcidents—events coming in
relief of what would be, to most people, a dismal same-
ness. Even a fisherman is human and likes a change at
times as well as his neighbours; and a lull, or a storm, or
a fog, or an extra large or small catch are the only changes
the “Islandais” can look for, except the periodical visit
of a Danish or French steamboat, which brings him his
letters and his newspapers, his medicines, tobacco, and
fresh water.
A few more brief calms, another fog or two—happily
the fog does not interfere much with the fishing—and the
men begin to count the days, then the hours, that must
elapse before they start for home. ‘The boats that have
had the luckiest season are the first to go; some, less
fortunate, stay as long as the late August and September
squalls will allow them. Often there is a sort of under-
stood race for home; for the boats that are the first in
will get the best market for their fish. Most of them will
probably sail straight away for Bordeaux and the neigh-
bourhood, where prices may be better than in the large
northern towns, buy their salt for the coming season and
then turn homewards, each member of the crew with
perhaps a thousand francs (£40) in his pocket, his share
98
THE COD-FISHERY
of the sale of the fish. Similar ceremonies to those which
attended his going out are being prepared for him at
home; and for some weeks after the first crew has landed,
his little native town will be en féte. Then for a few
months he will settle down to the more peaceful coast-
fishing, and by February will be quite ready to set out
again on just such a voyage as the last.
s wi WE
99
CHAPTER VIII
THE COD-FISHERY (II)
The American cod-fishery—The Newfoundland Banks—Dory work—
Hand-line fishing —Drawbacks to it—French trawling—No piracy
allowed—Pulling up the trawl—Clearing and rebaiting—Cleaning
and drying—The gill-net—Its special utility—Its mechanism.
OW as to the American cod-fishery, an industry
N far more important and extensive than that dis-
cussed in the last chapter, and pursued on the
largest cod-grounds in the world—the Grand Banks of
Newfoundland. These, forming one immense submarine
table-land, lie more than fifty miles to the south of Cape
Race, more than three hundred to the east of Cape
Breton Island, and are covered with water that varies in
depth from ten to a hundred and fifty fathoms.
Sealing, the industry only second in importance to
codding in Newfoundland, finishes about the middle of
April, and within six weeks of that time the ground is
crowded with cod-crews, drawn from almost all nations
under heaven. Naturally the first to arrive are our own
hardy colonials from various parts of Canada, with a
sprinkling of Frenchmen from Miquelon and St. Pierre,
—two little islands belonging to France, which lie a few
miles north-west of the Banks. Before June is far ad-
I0O
THE COD-FISHERY
vanced, these have been joined by large fleets from the
United States and even from France and Holland, and
for the next five months these men, drawn from every-
where, will fish together more or less amicably, for the
Banks are a sort of “ No-man’s land,” beyond the juris-
diction of either Great Britain or the States.
In the height of the season there will be something like
seventy-five thousand vessels on the grounds—not includ-
ing steam-tugs, carriers, and the like—of from 50 to 200
tons burthen; many of them schooners (two-masters,
with square fore-topsail and fore-top-gallant), but the
majority of them cutters and yawls. ach of these
vessels carries half a dozen or more small boats—dories,
as they are termed—from which most of the fishing will
be done. And therein lies the danger of the work ; for
the dories are often obliged to travel a great distance
from their ship, and are only too easily swamped through
carelessness in overloading, or lost in the darkness or the
fog.
The most popular quarters of the district are Flemish
Cap, Brown’s Bank, and St. George’s Bank—the last-
named, situated in the far south-east corner of the ground,
producing the finest cod-fish in the world.
Until lately two methods of catching were in vogue ;
by hand-lines and by the French trawl. For a great
number of years the second system struggled hard with
the first and older plan, and, as will be seen from the last
chapter, many French crews still prefer the hand-line. By
the time French trawling had gained the sway among
British and American fishermen, a third contrivance—the
IoI
THE COD-FISHERY
gill-net—had arisen; and a few of its advocates main-
tain that in course of time it will completely supersede
line-fishing, except where inshore work is concerned; a
statement which affords great amusement to the older
fishermen, for they know better.
As has been already said, the Banks hand-line fishery
differs mainly from that carried on by the ‘ Islandais” in
that it does not usually take place from the deck of the
smack. Each member of the crew has his own cock-boat
or dory and, having sculled himself out some distance,
with his tackle and his bait-store, throws in his line. From
a sportsman’s point of view, what could be finer? ‘The
little boat is being tossed in any and every direction ;
often the fish come up as fast as ever the angler can haul
them in; often, again, there is the increased excitement
of irregular bites, when our man will catch two fish in
three minutes, and then has to wait three hours before he
gets another bite ; then succeeds again, by fits and starts,
pulling up sometimes one per minute, sometimes one
per hour. Further excitement comes at the moment of
“landing” the fish. ‘True, a cod is not a tarpon, to jump
upon you unawares or pull you out of your boat or tow
you along, the moment he is hooked; but he is a heavy,
muscular beast, all the same, and in a boat that was
never intended to hold more than two men, you can’t
“wrastle” with a thing that is in a very great hurry to
get away, and that turns the scale at three-quarters of a
hundredweight, without meeting with an occasional
upset.
But there is a less sporting view of the matter to be
102
THE COD-FISHERY
considered. A storm rises suddenly just when the boat
is well-nigh full of fish—representing the whole of a
man’s day’s work. A slight slip, or stumble, or roll on
the part of the fisherman—just the least little bit of
awkwardness that, in a somewhat larger craft, would pass
unnoticed—and the hapless dory capsizes, no matter
how carefully the fish have been stowed. At least there
is a day’s pay thrown away and—God help the poor
boatman if, encumbered as he is by oilskins and thigh-
boots, he is not man enough to reach and right his boat
again !
Or there is that awful fog for which the Banks are
celebrated, caused, so the geographers tell us, by the
meeting of the warm water of the Gulf Stream with the
current which is called the Cold Wall, and is really a
stream of melted Arctic ice brought down by the
Labrador current. ‘The unfortunate dory-man is not only
cut off from sight of everything, but, if he has finished
his fishing, will soon be chilled to the bone through
inaction; for he can do nothing but sit still, listening
anxiously to the sirens and hooters of larger craft that
may be in the vicinity, and wait, either till the fog lifts
or till he is run down by a passing steamer—unless he
has the luck to drift towards some friendly smack that
will take him aboard,
Yet, despite such drawbacks as these, it is easy to see
why hand-line codding dies hard; take the year through,
an individual fisherman can earn more money at it than
by the other means mentioned, though owners and
master-men may gain less; for the dory-man, being alone
103
THE COD-FISHERY
in his boat, has not to share the proceeds of his catch
with a companion. |
French trawling, on the other hand, requires a crew
of two; one to attend to the tackle, the other to scull
and “make himself generally useful.” In many respects
it is only a development of the old Scotch and French
long-line fishing. From each smack about half a dozen
dories go off in the morning; arrived at the part where
the trawls are set, the men can see a number of small
tarred kegs floating, that look like the ordinary buoys
to which boats are moored, but for the fact that each
of them carries a tiny flag which is of some distinctive
colour, or else has a name or number painted on it.
With the same keenness of perception that enables them
to recognise their own vessel among the thousands that
drift or lie at anchor on the Banks, the boatmen quickly
pick out certain buoys which they know to be theirs.
And here let me say that, among the fishermen of
civilised countries, there is surprisingly little piracy ; i.e.
interference with, or robbery of, other men’s tackle. Of
course if a Frenchman or a Yankee “ goes and puts” his
lobster-pots on a Canadian ground he must take his
chance of the trouble that ensues. But, generally speak-
ing, the fisherman, when not restrained by honesty or
fear (and, on the Grand Banks, to pull up someone else’s
gear is to get a knife into your ribs sooner or later) is
held back from this deadly sin by his superstition that
if he steals another man’s catch or tackle “it will come
home to him.”
To return to our dories—a very close observer might
104
THE COD-FISHERY
notice that the buoys go in pairs, in some cases each two
being joined by a thin line, and the distance between
the two being anything from a hundred and fifty yards
to a quarter of a mile. On reaching these the dories
separate, one boat—or perhaps two—rowing towards
either end of the connecting line; the others lying
between, and waiting to bear a hand as soon as they
are wanted. One of the men responsible for the tackle
now leans over the gunwale, seizes the buoy by its iron
ring and drags it aboard. It may now be seen that, from
each of the kegs—another line—the “ buoy-line ”—runs
downwards, and on this the men at either end begin to
haul for all they are worth, as though they were weighing
up an anchor. In point of fact, that is just what they
are doing; for presently the intermediate men make a
grab at something under water with hands outstretched
and, everyone pulling together, up comes a line equal in
length to the connecting cord, with a little anchor
fastened to each end of it. From this line, branching
in all directions, are others only a few feet long, each
bearing a hook—from two to three hundred of them in
all; and more than half of these have caught a cod.
This is what is meant by French trawling.
Very speedily the dorymen release the fish, packing them
neatly away in their boats. Sometimes there will be more
than they can find room for, and these must either be left
on the hooks or thrown back into the sea. Another
method of clearing the tackle is, as in the seine-netting,
to tow the whole catch back to the vessel. The coast
fishermen of Miquelon and St. Pierre now use no other
105
THE COD-FISHERY
system than the French trawl, going out daily from the
shore to tow the laden tackle home and to set fresh lines.
Many of the Canadian mainland fishers do the same;
and their inshore catches are so large (although the cod
are comparatively poor) that they manage to keep the
whole of the West Indian market supplied.
As soon as the hooks are cleared, the lines have to be
rebaited and sunk again. The favourite bait on the New-
foundland ground is what the Frenchmen call a capelin—a
kind of haddock or pigmy cod. As river anglers are well
aware, fixing “live-bait” is not a task to be approached
lightly or carelessly; yet the speed with which the cod-men
bait hook after hook is simply incredible. When the task
is finished the main line of the trawl has a most weird
appearance ; fancy a cord, nearly a quarter of a mile in
length, from which, at intervals of about five feet, hang
short ends of line, each terminating in a fish rather smaller
than a herring.
With very great care the trawl is sunk again, the
weight of the two little anchors being sufficient to carry
it to the bottom ; the buoy-lines are made fast to the kegs
again. If we were able to see through the water to the
bottom, we could now make out an immense four-sided
linear figure, perpendicular to the plane of the sea; every-
thing has been made ready once more for a new catch. If
the boats are very heavily burdened they will now row
back to their schooner or yawl to be hauled up and emptied
before proceeding to clear the next trawl. ‘The lines just
set will be left for at least twelve hours, sometimes even
twenty-four, before they are pulled up again.
106
THE COD-FISHERY
The cleaning and salting processes are the same, no
matter what means of catching may be in use. As soon
as the evening meal on the smack is finished—a meal
usually consisting of fish-pie or “ tinned rations” with tea,
coffee, or cider—boards are laid out on trestles below
decks, thus forming a long table, and all hands take a
share at the splitting and cleaning of the day’s catch.
Boats coming from a long distance will stow their fish
away as we have seen the Iceland Bretons do. Those that
have put off from Newfoundland, however, will either run
into shore periodically with their cargo or else hand it
over to carriers; for the Newfoundlanders have not only
to salt, but also to dry their fish. The drying is a labor-
ious though very simple process, consisting in laying the
opened cod on sloping wooden stages in the sun. If
figures and statistics were not rather tedious, the reader
might be interested to know that Newfoundland alone
exports five and a half million dollars’ worth of dried cod
every year, in addition to cod-oil to the value of about
half a million dollars.
Now for the gill-net. I have left it till last because it
cannot be considered as a feature of the June to November
season. Generally speaking, it does not come into use till
about a month after the line-fishing for the year has
finished. ‘The cod, though one of the easiest fish to be
taken with hook and line, is not readily caught by a net,
except at spawning time when it is more unobservant and
heedless of its surroundings. It has a rooted objection to
a net, and a countless shoal swimming at top speed would
wheel like lightning on coming within a few feet of one.
107
THE COD-FISHERY
For more than a hundred years the Canadian fishermen
have firmly believed that, during the breeding season,
the cod are short-sighted. They maintain that when the
fish go down and bury themselves in the mud at spawning,
Providence supplies them with a special film-like growth
which covers the eyes, thus protecting them from particles
of grit and sand that would otherwise blind them; and
this membrane, they say, does not disappear till about
the end of March. Now, as from November, when line-
fishing ends, till the middle of March, when sealing
begins, was a slack and often moneyless time for the
fishers, some of them began to think how it could be
turned to account; how fish, which would not be per-
suaded to leave the bottom where they had a plentiful
supply of cockles and shrimps for food, might still be
ensnared against their will. The gill-net is the result.
A stranger, sailing over the ground in winter, would
assume that French trawling was going on as usual, for
the flag-bearing buoys are still in evidence; and, if he
took the trouble to pull one out of the water, he would
find a buoy-line running down from it, differing from the
trawl-lines only in being considerably stouter. Moreover,
if he took a dive to the bottom, he would see that the
gear is held down by a couple of small anchors, just as in
the other method. Or, again, he might see only one keg
instead of two, for often the second buoy-line is made fast
to a boat lying at moorings.
But the two little anchors that will sink a set of lines
are not sufficient to weight this sort of tackle, and to
help it to preserve its perpendicular with a strong current
108
THE COD-FISHERY
running; and if we pulled up a buoy-line, we should see
that it is weighted at regular intervals by three large
glass balls. At the lowest of these, which would be
nearly down to mid-water, the single line becomes two ;
one running down to the anchor, at an obtuse angle; the
other continuing in the same straight line with the buoy-
rope till it reaches a fourth ball which hangs within a
few feet of the bottom. Forming the third side of a
triangle, another line runs upwards from the anchor to
this fourth ball and, beyond it, to a fifth, placed at the
upper corner of the net. This fifth one is the first of a
long horizontal row which is threaded upon the whole
length of the upper edge of the net, whose other end
meets the second set of anchored guide-lines in precisely
the same manner as given above. The net thus hangs
perpendicularly, with but little freedom to move backwards
or forwards, its lower edge lying along the mud, and
kept there by another row of glass balls, each of which
hangs from a separate short cord tied to the bottom edge
of the net.
One might think that, at such a time of year, the net
must needs lie a long time before it is anything like full.
On the contrary, it fills very speedily, and can be pulled
up any time within twelve or fifteen hours; for the fish
will come out from the mud as soon as they are hungry ;
and, considering their vast numbers, the odds are that
wherever the net may fall, some hundreds of them, too
occupied with family cares to notice where they are
going, are bound to swim into the snare laid for them
in the course of a few hours. To guard against taking
109
THE COD-FISHERY
young fish, the meshes of the net are so wide as to allow
all but the most full-grown to pass harmlessly through
them. But woe betide the parent fish if they once get
their heads into the meshes; by the time the cords touch
them where they are roundest and plumpest, they can go
no further, and the first backward movement drives the
thread well under both gills, and then all hope of freedom
is gone for ever.
CHAPTER IX
THE OYSTER
Where the oyster is, and is not, found—The Essex and North Kent
“flats »—Development—Restocking the beds—‘‘ Brood” —A day
of a dredger’s life—Description of the dredge—Hauling up—The
oyster’s companions in the dredge—Its enemies—Measuring up
the “wash”—The collecting boat—Other kinds of oysters—
Typhoid!
oyster-fishery has existed ; before the Christian era had
begun, Roman epicures were turning up their noses at
Italian oysters because those from Gaul and Britain were
finer and more succulent. Certainly in the North Sea, the
English Channel, the Bay of Biscay, and various parts of
the Mediterranean, dredging in one form or other has
|: is not possible to say for how many centuries the
been practised from time immemorial.
The fishmonger’s price-list leads us to suppose that
oysters are found in Scotland, Colchester, Whitstable,
Holland, and America ; but, as a matter of fact, they are
taken in very great numbers almost everywhere. There
are, it is true, some few parts of the ocean where we
might dredge for ever without catching one. Professor
Huxley tells us the reason, viz. they cannot live and
breed in water containing less than three per cent. of
III
THE OYSTER
saline constituents; and he quotes the Baltic, where the
tasty little creatures are almost unknown, as an instance.
But equally there are particular quarters of the ocean-
bed—the Bay of Arcachon, for example, or the Essex
and North Kent “ flats ”—that scientists say are specially
adapted to oyster-culture ; and, as the last-named is the
better-known ground, as well as one of the oldest and
most important in the world, we will take a glance at the
kind of work that goes on there.
The law forbids the sale of English and Scotch oysters
between the middle of May and the beginning of August,
partly to prevent undue clearing of the beds, partly
because the oyster is at that time more or less poisonous,
— sick,” as the fishermen call it; it is spawning, ‘The
spawn, or “fry,” falls in tiny particles on the stones,
shells, and rubbish at the bottom of the sea and soon
develops into small white protuberances: “spat”; these
in their turn become little bivalves which are found lying
independently, or with one shell tightly stuck to some
foreign body. Such baby oysters are called “ brood,” and
more than half of the fisherman’s time is given up to
collecting them.
Oysters are dearer than other shell-fish for pretty much
the same reason that pheasants are dearer than rabbits ;
they are a proprietary article, and their rearing is a
somewhat expensive matter. The beds from which the
fully developed fish are taken belong to companies or
private individuals, and are severely marked off by buoys.
But such preserves are very small when compared with
the immense surrounding space on which anyone may
112
THE OYSTER
fish; and it is from the outside spaces that millions of
brood oysters may be obtained.
It stands to reason, with the vast number of native
oysters that are eaten or exported within a twelvemonth,
that the beds from which they are drawn require to be
continually restocked; and this is done by the owners
buying of the fishermen the brood which they have
gathered from common ground, and laying it down in
their own “parks,” where it will gradually come to
maturity.
Brood-getting, then, is the chief occupation of the
fishermen in such a place as Whitstable ; supplying not
the fish-market, but the fish-breeder. While the close
season is on, and perhaps two or three days a week during
other times, the dredgers are to be seen going off in their
cutters for a task that will occupy from eight to twelve
hours, and during that time they will go ten and even
twenty miles away. With no quay and no tugs, the
smacks are dependent on the tides for getting out to sea ;
thus, if the tide is ebbing at—say—one in the morning,
the men must be away within an hour or so of that time,
though—as in winter—they may not be able to begin
work till six or seven, for their task cannot be performed
in the dark.
Arrived at a likely spot, a trial dredge or two will be
thrown over and left to trail for a few minutes ; then pulled
up and examined. If the sample be promising, work
begins at once; if not, up goes the fore-sail again and the
smack sails away towards better ground. In Chapter IT,
for the sake of convenience in classification, the dredge,
H 113
THE OYSTER
(drag)—generally pronounced “drudge ”—has been in-
cluded under the head of nets; but a more minute
description of the instrument may not be out of place
here. ‘The front meshes, we saw, are composed of string,
and the back of stout wire. ‘The wire meshes are linked
on to a slip of iron about two feet long, the “bit”;
while those at the front are lashed by a cowhide thong to
a slip of wood similar in size to the bit, the “catch-
stick”; and at either end, connecting the two, is a “ side-
stick,” half the length of it. Thus we have a deep net
with a rectangular opening, that will hold as much as
a good-sized portmanteau. The side- and catch-sticks are
but loosely hinged at their ends, so that the front and the
sides of the mouth are comparatively free in their move-
ments ; but each end of the bit is fixed to a bar of iron as
thick as a kitchen poker and a little less than three feet
long. ‘These two bars, or “limbs,” bend back till they
meet in a point, two and a half feet from the bit. As
stays to the limbs are two more bars, one running down
from the meeting point, halving the angle, till it joins
another at right angles, which connects the limbs half
a foot above the bit and parallel to it. All told, then,
you have an iron triangle, bisected from apex to base,
with its two sides produced till they meet a second base,
the bit. At its apex is a stout iron ring through which
the lowering rope is tied, and below this is a projection,
the use of which will be seen directly.
An oyster-smack crew consists of three or, at the
most, four men. As soon as a good spot has been found,
the boat is brought round to the wind and left to look
114
THE OYSTER
after herself, and the men arrange themselves to wind-
ward, one at bow, a second amidships, and a third near
the stern. ‘The minutes being so precious to the fisher-
men, everything has been made ready while the boat
was still travelling ; the dredges fastened to their warps ;
a little wooden bucket placed near each man to hold the
brood; and no time is wasted now in throwing in the six
dredges, two to each man. The upper end of every
warp, or coil of rope, is secured by being tied to a stout
block which lies on the deck, while, to prevent more rope
being paid out than will reach to the bottom, a short
bridle or regulating cord is tied from a cleat inside the
bulwarks to the part of the warp that is just above
water.
Henceforward everything depends on the wind ; if there
is not enough the smack will not move, and the dredges
will be scraping thereabouts the same spot over and over
again ; if too much, she will rock and drift to such an
extent that no sooner have the men found a good “pitch”
than they are washed away from it. Give them a light
breeze and they are happy.
The pulling up and landing of one full dredge requires
little experience, but a good deal of breath and muscle ;
the pulling up of twenty or thirty per hour demands con-
siderable staying power, and hands as hard as leather.
The rope, a good inch in diameter, must be hauled
straight up, hand over hand; to pause for breath is to
risk being pulled overboard, or, at least, to have the rope
jerked out of the hands by the tremendous weight at the
end of it.
115
THE OYSTER
When at last the top ring comes above water the worst
of the strain is over; to the beginner it has seemed as
though the rope would never end, though in reality the
depth is nothing as compared with deep-water fishing ;
the “flats” of the Thames estuary are not, as a rule,
covered by more than five to fifteen fathoms of water,
even at high tide. The use of the limbs and the little
iron projection—the “ heel ”—is now apparent. The final
pull has brought the ring well above the bulwarks ; but
it goes without saying that weight in water and out of it
are two widely different things; out of the water a loaded
dredge is sometimes so heavy that only a strong man can
lift it; and the wet, slippery, sloping deck is not the
standing-ground that even he would choose for the task.
Instead, therefore, of lifting the catch bodily over the
side, the fisherman continues to haul on the rope till the
projecting heel hooks itself on the gunwale and he is
released from the strain. The rest is a mere question of
knack ; seizing the ring, and using the limbs as a lever, he
drags the iron frame over till the net rests on the gun-
wale, mouth towards the deck ; and by a deft twist of the
right limb empties the whole, then flings the dredge back
into the sea.
And what a collection he has brought up from Davy’s
locker! Such an one as would make the mouth of a
naturalist water if he saw it for the first time, and as
might incline the curio-hunter to poke about in the heap
on the chance of finding treasure. A complete list of
the objects, other than young oysters, that appear in the
dredges in the course of a day would fill a page of this
116
THE OYSTER
book ; everything from dead men’s bones to fossil remains;
from a lump of rock weighing half a hundredweight to a
silver pencil-case; the young, and sometimes the old, of
twenty different kinds of fish ; mussels and whelks by the
gallon; a score of varieties of seaweed. I have a six-
teenth-century tobacco-pipe that was landed in this
manner; and myself once pulled up a lively sole weigh-
ing over a pound and a half, in a dredge.
Before we discuss the brood that has come up, we must
specially notice two objects that have not been included
in the collection outlined above, but which will almost in-
variably be found wherever there are oysters; to wit: the
“ five-finger” (star-fish) and the dog-whelk. These are
the young oyster’s deadly enemies against which, poor
wretch, he is powerless. The star-fish grips him with its
terrible arms and suckers, and eats him up, shell and all.
The dog-whelk goes to work in a more subtle manner ;
having fastened himself on to the shell, he patiently bores
a hole through it with a sort of drill wherewith Nature
has provided his mouth; and, having effected an entry,
gradually demolishes the soft body within. You may see
scores of empty brood shells neatly perforated in this
manner.
Strangely enough, the dredgers wink at the depreda-
tions of the star-fish; if they do not want to take a bag-
full of them home for the garden (they are splendid
manure for cabbages) they throw them back unharmed
into the sea. Yet not many dog-whelks are ever allowed
to escape; the heel of a sea-boot or a bang with a stone
speedily cuts short their days. They can easily be dis-
117
THE OYSTER
tinguished from the common whelk by the white and
purple or yellow and brown shades of the shell, as well
as by the lengthy spines with which the latter is covered.
From such a motley heap, then, the brood has to be
sorted, or “ culled”—for the Kent fishermen still use the
good old word; and here is labour more irksome and, in
the long run, more tiring, than the hauling up; for the
men are down on their knees, or bent double over the
heap, gathering up the little shells faster than the
stranger could pick them out with his eye. Brood shells
are of a pearly white till they are about a year old, and
at that age their size is anything from that of a sixpence
to that of a halfpenny; older brood are of a delicate
pink on the round valve, and brown on the flat. They
may be said to increase in diameter about an inch each
year, up to the age of three ; after which time the growth
is more a matter of the shell’s thickening, and there is
not necessarily any great difference in circumference be-
tween a three-year-old oyster and a fully matured one.
In a very few minutes each dredger has singled out
from his heap everything that he wants and has thrown
it into his bucket; and now, with a couple of bits of
board he rakes together all the mass of weed, stones, and
rubbish preparatory to shooting it through a port-hole.
Before he throws the heap away there is one more item
of it that it will not be going away from our subject
to glance at; the sea-urchin or, as he would call it, the
“burr,” for whose creation he firmly believes the Evil
One to have been responsible. Most people are better
acquainted with its shell-like skeleton than with the
118
THE OYSTER
living creature itself; it is a greeny red, globular object,
any size from that of a marble to a small orange, and
looking exactly like a coiled-up hedgehog. According
to the dredger there are three grounds of objection to
it; it pricks the fingers most painfully; a prick from
it is poisonous; it eats the oysters, Nobody who has
handled one will cavil at the first statement; the second
is nonsense ; the third open to debate, for zoologists seem
to agree that the urchin is a vegetable feeder. It certainly
has a trick of getting in the way of the fingers while the
brood is being culled, and a pleasant little habit of stick-
ing one of its spines between the nail and the flesh—and
leaving it there. So long as it behaves, the dredger
shoots it overboard with the rest; but should it prick
him, the bystander will see that the savage is not
altogether dead in our fishermen; for the offending burr
must be slowly hammered to death with a stone, or gently
dropped into the cabin fire. You might tell the dredger
that the urchin does not feel anything, has no evil in-
tentions, and was not made by the devil; and being the
naturally courteous fellow that he generally is, he would
not contradict you—till you were out of hearing.
Now out through the port-hole are swept the pipe-fishes
and sea-mice and the half-dozen or more varieties of crab
—noticeably the ghastly spider-crab—with an avalanche of
stones ; and the fisher hauls up his second dredge, empties
it, throws it back, and sorts as before. If it is a lucky
day with him, after a few such hauls he has filled his
pail, emptied it into a larger one and started to fill it
again. If you take the trouble to examine the contents
119
THE OYSTER
of one of the pails you will find a curious mixture;
young oysters in clusters of two or three; a stone or an
old shell with as many as a dozen little ones adhering
to it; perhaps a few oysters that, in spite of the con-
tinuous dredging, have by chance been allowed to come
to maturity in their native beds.
On a busy day the pails are soon filled again, and it
becomes necessary to pack away some of the brood. ‘The
men gauge it very carefully before they empty it into
sacks—it will be measured again by the buyer, but they
like to know how much they are earning.
“Two wash already!” <A “wash” is five gallons, and
will be bought by the cultivator for four shillings. On
two wash, then, our three men have earned two shillings
apiece, and the boat another two shillings; if the owner
is the skipper, so much the better for him.
After a while it is seen that the supply of brood is
dwindling ; the patch, over which the dredges are being
towed by the gently drifting boat, is exhausted; or
perhaps only mussels are coming up—a sure sign that
there is little brood about. ‘Then the helm is unlashed,
the boat puts about, and makes for another likely spot.
Here, perhaps, the brood is more plentiful than ever, and
very soon another three or four wash are put into the
bags. But now the men are beginning to grumble; the
wind has dropped, and the boat scarcely moves at all,
hampered as she is by the heavy dredges. ‘There is just
the hope that, though she may not bear six, she can yet
manage three, so each man tries working with but one
dredge. ‘The plan answers perhaps, but the crew are only
120
THE OYSTER
earning half as much as they otherwise might do. And
maybe the tide has been flowing for some time already ;
they have but an hour or so before they must put
back. Happily the wind is getting up once more, and
all six dredges are thrown in again. The men may well
be anxious to make hay while the sun shines ; when they
are not after brood they are either kept ashore by un-
favourable weather, or are “oystering” at four-and-
sixpence a day. Oystering, I may remark, is exactly the
same process as brood-getting, but that the men are work-
ing on a private ground and are rejecting everything but
the fish that are ready for eating.
At length, good luck or bad, they dare stay no longer if
they are to get in before the tide turns again ; for very
likely they are miles away from home. As they come in
sight of the town we see the same kind of thing happening
as we witnessed with the trawlers ; two of the men jump into
the little boat, the sacks of brood are handed out to
them and they pull rapidly away to a smack labelled
“collecting-boat.” Round this are scores of little boats,
their crews waiting to give up their catches and have them
measured, In some cases however the catch is taken ashore
to a sorting house. The brood thus procured will be re-
planted in some special part of the oyster park, dropped
down from smacks by the handful as if one were sowing
seeds,
This is an average day of a dredger’s life in good
weather. In winter-time he must necessarily earn but
little; the hours of daylight are very limited; there are
fogs about ; and, more, if a frost sets in, he can take him-
121
THE OYSTER
self home as soon as he likes and stay there till the thaw
comes; for frost kills the brood the moment it comes in
contact with it,no matter how quickly the catch is stowed
away. You can see the little oysters open of themselves
as soon as they are taken out of the water on a frosty
day.
Hitherto we have dealt with but one class of oyster,
but there are others that may be of interest. As
youngsters, most of us have been told by our travelled
elders that oysters grow on trees; and we have had the
uncomfortable feeling that we were being “ chaffed.” Yet
we live to find out that in some parts of the world, such
is the case ; in the West Indies, at the heads of inlets and
natural harbours where the mangrove grows freely under
water, oysters may be found by the hundred, clinging to
the branches.
There is an interesting point, too, relating to the colour
of oysters; those from Spain are red; from parts of the
Adriatic, brown ; from the Bay of Biscay and parts of the
Channel, green; from the Red Sea, opaline and rain-
bow coloured.
There is, though not to the extent that once prevailed,
a good deal of exchange in the matter of brood. In bad
years—that is years when the fall of “spat” has been
poor—brood has been brought over from Cancale or
Dieppe or Arcachon, and planted in English beds ;
similarly, though the Dutch have large beds off Zealand,
they will buy young oysters of English fishermen to ripen
in the grounds at Petten. In recent years the Australian
beds have proved so fruitful that an attempt has been
122
THE OYSTER
made to transport brood oysters to Kurope ; but so far
the promoters of the scheme have not been successful.
Dredging for oysters, and from boats, is not always
necessary ; most of the American fish are picked up from
the beach like cockles. At Arcachon, perhaps the finest
natural bed in the world, the tide goes out so far that
what, at flood-tide, is a large bay, becomes at low water
a vast sand-track, intersected, however, by narrow streams
from two to seven fathoms deep. At the bottom of these
streams lie some of the best oysters, and dredging can be
carried on from land.
The Arcachon fishermen have to wage war against
what is called the whelk-tingle, as do ours against the
dog-whelk; and the Americans find almost as great a
scourge in the oyster-catcher or sea-pie, a stork-billed
bird that eats oysters as thrushes eat snails.
One more word about the British oyster-fisherman.
He cannot be brought to believe that oysters produce
typhoid fever, and doubtless he would find medical men
ready to back him up. According to his own account he
has seen a man’s head swell to the size of a bushel-basket
through mussel-poisoning ; he has had his own hand in a
sling for weeks, through being pricked by a burr; he has
seen someone else helplessly drunk, merely through eating
a few red whelks; he may even have seen the sea-serpent ;
but never, never has he known of a case of oyster-typhoid.
And surely he is in a position to know !
CHAPTER X
UNITED STATES FISH AND
FISHERMEN
The States fishermen—The “ foreigners” —The spring mackerel-
fishing—The ‘* purse-seine ”"—Fishing by night—How the net is
cleared—Shore-weirs—Line-fishing for mackerel—The herring—
The mullet—A big catch—The ‘‘ red snapper ”—Other American
fish.
HE life of the American mackerel is a busy but not
ap an enviable one, for it is passed in a futile effort to
find a resting-place “between the devil and the
deep sea”; in other words, between the artfully designed
coast-traps known as “shore-weirs,” and the attacks of
the sharks and blue-fish that lie in wait for him as soon
as he flees into deep water. It is just possible that he
might find a happy mean, if it were not for a third
danger that pursues him in his flight from the coast, and is
waiting to meet him on his return there to the fishing-fleet.
For, all the way down the Atlantic coast of the United
States, from Maine to Louisiana, are fishing stations,
some rivalling in importance our Lowestoft or Grimsby,
and catering for a greater population and a far wider
area.
The States fishermen might be divided into two classes :
124
FISH AND FISHERMEN
foreigners, and “odd hands.” In a new country one does
not expect to see a fishing race, sprung from untold
generations of sea-going folk, such as Britain, France or
Denmark can show; and but for the immigration of
European fishing families, one might seek in vain for
anything like a hereditary fleet. But when English and
French, Swedes and Portuguese settled along the east
coast of North America in the sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries, attracted by the tales of their sailors as to the
prevalence of the cod, they went a long way towards
endowing the new country with such a fleet as they had
been accustomed to see at home. On Cape Cod, for
instance, there is, to this day, a complete colony of
Portuguese fishermen who still retain their own language
and customs. All these different settlers, then, with
Lascars, Coolies, and an occasional Chinaman, make up
the “foreigners”; while the “odd hands” are landsmen
—labourers, negroes, etc., or their descendants, who have
drifted towards the coast in search of work, and are
looked upon with a certain amount of contempt by the
more blue-blooded fisher-folk.
Such of these men as are not engaged on the Banks
fishery, may be found during March and April fishing
for mackerel ; in the late autumn and winter for herring ;
then, till mackerel-fishing begins again, for mullet. Their
ground may be said to lhe anywhere between the coast
and a line parallel to it, fifty miles distant ; and, length-
wise, between the Gulf of Mexico and the Bay of Fundy.
Further north they dare not go except for mackerel—the
only fish which they are allowed to take from British
125
UNITED STATES
waters—or when they are making for the common ground
further east. |
A favourite spot for the spring mackerel-fishing is off
Cape Hatteras, where the water reaches a remarkable
depth ; and here a fleet of yawls, and even schooners and
brigs, is to be seen working day and night—really more
night than day—as long as the shoals of mackerel remain.
A large vessel is necessary, if only as a storehouse, for
the catches are so enormous that only big craft could find
room for them.
The net used is a development of the old-fasioned seine,
probably introduced by the French and Portuguese
émigrés, and known as the “purse-seine”; it requires
considerable depth of water and, like the trawl, a sandy
ér shingly bottom, free from rocks. Asa rule it is single,
i.e. a plain sheet of netting, with cords at top and bottom
which will draw it together in the form of a bag; some-
times, however, it is pocket-shaped. 'To cause it to hang
perpendicularly, the upper edge is buoyed with a cork-line,
while the lower is weighted with lead; it can either be
moored to a couple of boats or anchored buoys, or it may
be towed gently between two or more boats.
The fact that mackerel are not essentially a bottom fish
will explain why the work is more easily accomplished in
the dark than by daylight. In the daytime the fish are
rather shy of coming near the surface, with the result
that only the lower meshes are to be relied upon as long
as the light remains. By night it is different; a man
standing at bow, or stationed at the mast-head, can easily
follow the movements of a shoal, which, seeing nothing to
126
FISH AND FISHERMEN
fear, swim hither and thither among the fleet, uncon-
sciously betraying their whereabouts by the phosphorescent
track they leave behind. Following such a track with his
eye, an experienced skipper can give directions to the men
who are waiting to shoot the seine from the small boats,
and can even tell when the net is in danger of being over-
crowded.
The clearing of the net is a case of “the mountain’s
going to Mohammed”; not of the net’s being brought to
the ship, but the reverse. ‘The moment the seine is full,
the vessel pulls round alongside of it ; the cords are drawn
up and hitched to the bulwarks, so that the whole catch
is taken in tow; and a fresh net is shot. If the crew are
busy, the fish caught can stay where they are till morning ;
then they are baled out of the purse at intervals, as
occasion offers, and stacked below, to be taken ashore
either immediately or when the call-boat comes round.
The reason why the net is not hauled bodily on deck, as
in trawling, is pretty obvious when we bear in mind that.
at one shooting, the seine is sometimes found to contain
as many mackerel as will fill a thousand good-sized barrels.
But what is the result of such enormous catches? Year
by year the mackerel-fleets find themselves forced to go
farther and farther away from the shore; for the spring
fishing disturbs the shoals in their northward migration,
causing them thereby to take a wider sweep from the coast,
so that, in time to come, mackerel-seining must become as
-much an ocean-fishery as codding.
The shark and his various amiable relatives are rarely
the fisherman’s allies; yet, where American mackerel are
127
UNITED STATES
concerned, they must be considered as such; for one of
them will pursue a whole shoal—swallowing a mouthful
now and again as opportunity arises—for fifty and sixty
miles, coming as close in to shore as he dares. It is then
that the shore-weirs mentioned above come into play.
They are of two sorts: shoal-(shallow)-water weirs and
deep-water weirs. The first are simple enclosures made by
walls of stakes, bushes, etc., into which the fish swim
helter-skelter, on the “any port in a storm” principle,
where they are either cut off from retreat by a sliding
door of hurdles as soon as a big capture is made, to be
left high and dry when the tide goes out; or are baled
out by the score as they come into the trap.
The deep-water weir is considerably less primitive, and
is composed of a series of net walls cunningly arranged
so that entry is simple enough, but exit—to the dull-
witted mackerel—a matter of impossibility. Parallel to
the shore is one long sheet or wall of netting, buoyed and
weighted like a seine; from one end of this, running out
into the sea at right-angles, is a similar wall, from a
hundred and fifty to two hundred yards long; the
“leader,” as it is called. At the other end of the first
net is a third wall, about a quarter the length of the
leader and parallel to it, at the end of which is yet
another, which goes more than half-way towards making
the fourth side of a square, leaving, however, a good
wide opening for the fish to come in at. Sometimes the
fourth side doubles back, parallel to the leader, and has
yet another net perpendicular to it, inside the square,
making the beginning of a sort of key-pattern labyrinth.
128
FISH AND FISHERMEN
When a shoal of mackerel in full flight from a shark
encounters the “leader,” it hesitates, wheels, and swims
steadily alongside the net wall till it is caught in the maze
prepared for it. But shore-weirs, take them how you may,
are even more destructive to the fishery than the purse-
seine, for hundreds of thousands of mackerel can be caught
in the course of a few days; and the sooner such a waste-
ful method is entirely abolished the better.
There is one more way in which the mackerel may be
_caught—again an importation from Europe; that is by
means of hook and line. All sorts of bait have been
tried, but experienced mackerel-anglers say that none is
so satisfactory as a bit of scarlet flannel, cloth, or ribbon,
tapering downwards to a point. As there is no marine
animal, so far as one knows, of which such bait could be
an imitation, it may be assumed that this is yet another
instance of the inquisitiveness of fish upon which scientists
have so often remarked.
Next in importance to the mackerel, where the States
coast-fishery is concerned, is the herring; and the catch-
ing of it is one of the special industries of the shore
people of Maine and Massachusetts; but, as the next
chapter deals specially with this fishery as carried on in
Europe, we shall here only touch upon such points as
are peculiar to the American branch of it. Gill-nets,
such as we saw used on the Banks for cod, are frequently
employed, though the buyers are much against the use
of them; for they say that the redness round the eyes
of herrings is caused by the strangulating effect of the
I 129
UNITED STATES
meshes ; and consequently they prefer those fish that have
been caught in weirs or purse-seines. Weirs are very
successful in late autumn, when the fish come close in-
shore to spawn.
The more distant herring-fishery, which extends as far
as the British waters round New Brunswick, is carried
on in smacks, and principally by means of purse-seines.
The season is a long one, lasting at least three months.
Often the catching is done in exactly the same way as
mackerel-seining, the full net being towed aft; but, where
small purses are used, the catch is sometimes hauled up
on deck. Collecting-boats are often dispensed with, for
many smacks carry a plentiful supply of ice; and the
herring, packed carefully in this, will keep good and
fresh for months at a time; other boats give up their
catches daily to a steamer.
Before the herring-fishery has ended for the year,
another industry begins farther south: mulleting. ‘The
great mullet-ground is the Cedar Keys, off the Florida
coast, and the season lasts from the beginning of
December to the end of the first week in February.
Gill-nets and even trawls are used for these; but again
neither is so popular as the purse-seine. The fish taken
average two and a half pounds, and they are caught in
astonishing profusion. A seine worked by eight men has
been known to catch ten thousand of them at one shoot-
ing. Reckoning at the rate of thirty fish to a cubit foot,
this represents a solid mass measuring about seven feet
each way, and weighing over eleven tons.
130
FISH AND FISHERMEN
Coming a little further south and then sailing west-
wards into the Gulf of Mexico, we light upon another
important fishing-ground; the home of the “red snapper.”
This is a gorgeous creature, averaging 7 lb. in weight,
which is regarded by the people of the Southern States
as a great delicacy. It is found in depths of from ten
to fifty fathoms, and swims over a bottom that is every-
where dotted with rocks and lumps of coral, where no
fisherman dare dream of shooting a net.
Snapper-catching does not greatly differ from cod line-
fishing. Each smack is manned by a crew of seven or
eight men, who go fifty miles out and as much as two
hundred and fifty along the shore. On reaching a favour-
able spot the boat is either anchored or brought to heave-
to, and work begins, As the snapper happens to be
a particularly voracious fish (he has earned his name from
his practice of snapping at everything that comes within
his reach), very long lines are not necessary, for he spends
a good half of his time chasing small fish that swim near
the surface. Each man’s line is furnished with two
large, thick hooks and is weighted with four or five
pounds of lead; and, as a rule, before the weight has
sunk more than a couple of fathoms, one, and sometimes
two fish have swallowed the bait, not to say a hook as
well, Bait, indeed, is a secondary matter; hundreds of
snappers are caught in a day with naked hooks; a pebble
lowered on a string would be sufficient tackle to draw
them ; it might even be worth a sportsman’s while to try
them with an alder-fly or a cockchafer.
A snapper boat carries no ice, no salt, and has no deal-
131
FISH AND FISHERMEN
ings with steam collectors. Under hatches is an immense
tank filled with water, and the fish, having been carefully
made to disgorge the hook, are put into it; the tank will
hold a week’s catch and, at the end of that time, the boat
puts back to shore, and the fish are killed by a slight blow
on the head when they are handed out to the buyers.
Beside those already mentioned or yet to be discussed
in other chapters, the Americans have many fish which
are unknown in our own waters; in most cases their names
are descriptive, e.g. the horse-eyed jack, pork-fish, hog-fish,
goat-fish, moon-fish, etc. Another individual that almost
calls for separate mention is the menhaden, more com-
monly known as the “ porgy,” once in great favour at the
tables of the poorer classes in the States. This fishery is
now spoken of as a lost art, though menhaden make
excellent bait for cod, and have, in time past, been so
plentiful as to be netted for field-manure.
132
CHAPTER XI
THE BRITISH HERRING FISHERY
The herring—The lugger—Night-work—Signs !—‘* Lythe ”—Shooting
the tackle—How the drift-net is worked—The trial shot—Shooting
a **fleet”—The net filling —Hauling in—The first strike—A
second shot—More than they can carry—‘‘ Maze,” ‘‘cran,” and
‘‘last ”—Getting rid of the catch.
S a popular dish, where the poorer classes through-
out the western world are concerned, the herring is
hard to beat. If it were not such a prolific—and
consequently cheap—tish, it would no doubt find favour
even in the eyes of wealthy epicures ; for, in all its forms,
fresh, salted, kippered, or red, it is more appetising and
sustaining than many of the more expensive fish.
Herring are in season whenever they can be procured,
which is at almost all times of the year; though during
the first three months they are not at their best. Roughly
speaking, from June to October is the season for the
British fishery.
All round our coast are herring boats of some sort or
other; but the important fleets hail from sundry Scotch
and North Country ports; from Yarmouth, of course ;
from Ireland and the Isle of Man, and from North Devon.
There is not a great deal of difference between the craft
and methods in use in these various districts; and perhaps
133
THE BRITISH HERRING FISHERY
the only distinction between a herring-fisher and any
other is that the former grows rich more quickly and
more surely than his less favoured brethren; for where
both supply and demand are abundant and fairly constant,
there money must be made.
The boat most generally employed is the Scotch or
two-masted lugger, open or decked, as the case may be;
more often the latter. The luggers found on the coast of
Scotland usually have a little cabin forward, but the rest
of the vessel open. The North Country boats are long
and narrow, with a pointed stern; the foremast is placed
as near as possible to the prow, which practice, though it
may render her awkward and sulky when sailing against
the wind, makes a very fast boat of her with the wind
behind her. The vessels in the west and south-west are,
as a rule, broader in the beam, and not uniformly so fast.
The special advantage attaching to the use of the double
lugger is that, while fishing is going on, the foremast can
more easily be stepped (lowered) than could the main-
mast of a cutter or yawl. And this measure is very
necessary because, when once the nets are shot, even
though there be no sail up, the least wind will add tre-
mendously to the already heavy strain on the tow-rope ;
and it is the skilled fisherman’s one endeavour to keep
such strain at a minimum. :
Herring-fishing is night-work, and the darker the night
the better the men like it; for the fish are much too
wide awake to run their heads into the meshes as long
as these are visible. ‘To say that the boats go out every
night in the season would be to imply either that the
134
Photo, Fenkins Lowestoft
FISHERMEN LAYING-OUT HERRINGS FOR SALE AT LOWESTOFT
THE BRITISH HERRING FISHERY
fisherman is an ass—and he is not—or that luck is always
with the fleet. The herring fisherman, especially he of
the North, is an exceedingly astute person, and will not
risk his valuable tackle unless there is reasonable hope of
gaining something thereby. True, there are times when
he comes back with an almost empty boat, but such
a calamity is more often than not due to some unforeseen
accident, such as a trawler’s having split up a shoal; and
it is made up for by the next lucky night. He has very
reliable indications of a shoal being in the vicinity—the
systematic flight of the sea-birds, a peculiar boiling up of
the sea in isolated patches, the presence of porpoises or an
occasional whale ; perhaps his wife or children have spent
half the day watching for the appearance of such signs ;
or he has done well at a certain spot on the previous
night and means to try his luck again at the same place ;
in any case he will not go unless there is something
to go for.
Sometimes a shoal moves from district to district with
such rapidity that only the boat which happens to be on
a certain spot at a given moment stands the least chance
of making a capture; other craft that have put off a
little later will come up to find that the coveted shoal
has swept onwards from—say—the Firth of Clyde, south-
wards; and to-morrow one or two fortunate Manx or
Irish crews will have netted the fish that to-day have cir-
cumvented the Scotchmen; what remains of them being,
perhaps, snapped up by the Devon men a night or
two later.
When the “signs” are sufficiently promising, the boats
135
THE BRITISH HERRING FISHERY
put off as near sundown as tides will allow, making what
sail they can; often rowing as well, if current or wind
be adverse, or if there be no tug handy. At this time of
day the demeanour of the men is markedly the reverse of
what it is when they go off at midnight or early morning ;
as then their spirits and hilarity gradually rise, the
farther they get from the shore, so now they begin
cheerily and noisily, growing more silent and subdued as
the darkness gathers. By the time it is dark not a voice
will raise itself above a whisper; will scarcely utter a
single sound other than an objurgation on the moon for
shining, or on a juvenile member of the crew for snoring.
A faint light streams down on the deck as the lamp is
run up the mizzen-mast, and the hands—six or seven—
prepare to lower sail at a word from the helmsman.
That personage has for some time been watching the
flight and occasional downward swoop of a flock of sea-
gulls; where they are dropping, fish of some kind or
other are sure to be near the surface. As the gloom
deepens, another and more certain proof of the presence
of a shoal appears, for sheets and streaks of phosphores-
cent light begin to show themselves on the surface; that
means that the fish are stirring, and in very considerable
numbers. Still our skipper does not seem to excite himself.
Fish are there, sure enough; but they may not be the fish
that he is seeking. Suppose the luminous flashes should be
caused merely by a shoal of “lythe”! It is not at all
unlikely.
Lythe are fish that swim in shoals off the Scotch coast
and are practically useless as food, The oyster-dredger is
136
THE BRITISH HERRING FISHERY
not alone in holding heterodox opinions on the subject of
creation; for the Scotch herring-fisher devoutly believes
that the foul fiend created the lythe and invented the
trawl-net—the one to give occasion for many disappoint-
ments and much consequent swearing ; the other to drive
away and break up the shoals of herrings which otherwise
would swim obligingly towards the net spread for them.
As the lugger draws near to the first of the phosphor-
escent splashes, a whispered word goes round ; the skipper
means to shoot a trial net, and we shall have an oppor-
tunity of seeing how “drift” tackle is worked. (Some of
the more up-to-date men use a trawl-net or purse-seine for
herring.) The drift-nets are lying amidships, carefully
coiled up; each about fifty feet long and from nine to
twelve deep, and as innocent of pockets, purses, or folds as
a tennis-net; the meshes, which go about thirty to the
yard, will do all the work of themselves. The prudent
skipper is determined not to act rashly; the depth of
water here is not much more than four fathoms, and there
are gigantic jagged rocks about.
“Try three, first,” he mutters.
A pull at the helm throws the boat round in order
that the gear may be shot at the proper angle, i.e. across
the current, so that the shoals will strike it in their course
up or down; and some of the hands stand by to pay out
the first net. As it touches the water the tendency of
the heavy twine meshes is to sink, even if the lower edge
be not weighted with lead.
“ Let her go; mind the corks, and easy with that fvot-
rope.”
137
THE BRITISH HERRING FISHERY
The first thing that has touched the water is a good-
sized bladder, which the waves toss up and down like a
feather; this is tied to the end of a stout rope which
forms the upper edge of the net. As the meshes dis-
appear we can see that the net will not be allowed to
sink to the bottom, for, along the line that ends in the
bladder, is an array of lumps of cork, which, with the
bladders, will keep the upper edge—or “ back ”—on the
surface, while the net itself hangs perpendicularly. As
the cork line comes to an end we see another bladder, and
beyond it enough rope to connect up the beginning of
the second net. This is quickly joined on and paid out,
and then the third. The trial net has been shot.
Meanwhile one of the crew has been engaged with
what is termed the foot-rope or foot-line, a strong cord
independent of the cork line, fastened to the “back” of
each of the nets by a connecting cord, and so much
longer than the cork-line that, when the nets are all shot,
it sinks well below the under edge of them. It is on this
rope that much of the strain of hauling-in will come ;
moreover, should the cork-line be broken by a passing
vessel, as not infrequently happens, everything would
depend upon it; therefore it must be kept safely out of
the way of accidents. The ends of the lines are made
fast to a tow-rope, which can be lengthened or shortened
according as the boat wants to ride close to or away from
her nets; and the tackle is all ready for a strike, or
catch.
Now the foremast, taller considerably than the mizzen,
has to be stepped; sails and ropes are hauled down and
138
“WIY pUuryaq 9M aq} UL Uaes oq 03 AjUIE]d are Ysy ey, “puey Sty Ur ssv[s-103eM v Yons seq Surjulod
SI MOIIE SIIYM YI YOY JV URW SY, “YOM st YoueO oy) JuNOWY yLYM ‘ss¥[Z-r9lwM B Jo suvow Aq “Joe Oy} UT []S ev
Ysy 243 ISI sazelno[¥o oy UegoraM ayy Aq paqoa[es SI pOYyJ@U 10}}e] OYI J] JO] 2UO UT 10 xOq oY} Aq PjOs JoyII0 GAe Ysy CYL
AVMMON NI ONIYYHH AO HOLVD V ONILVWILSY
2fojsamoT suryuaf, '0j04q
THE BRITISH HERRING FISHERY
the mast is gently lowered backwards till it lies like a
dividing-line along the middle of the vessel. At present
nothing more can be done, and the men adjourn to the
cabin-stove, or huddle round the fire-bucket if there be
no cabin, and smoke their pipes or eat their supper in
dead silence. Boat and nets are drifting, and, so long as
they drift away from the rock-bed, the skipper does not
worry himself; he can keep a certain amount of control
over the vessel with the rudder, and, if he considers it
necessary, he has kept up his mizzen-sail in order to hold
her nose to the wind.
Presently he gives a little chuckle of satisfaction; the
gleams and flashes in the water are broadening; the
surface is bubbling and frothing in places ; here and there
the flashes break up from time to time into innumerable
points of light; and little clucking sounds are heard,
like the popping of corks at a distance, or the fall of
hailstones on a pond. Shall he risk putting out more
nets? By this time they must have drifted to a safe
depth away from the sharp rocks that would make havoc
of the gear. Why should he have only three when the
boat will stand a dozen or more?
“Hullo! Blue light to le’ward! May happen the
Argyle ’s made a strike,” says one of the men; and every-
one looks in the direction indicated, where, among the
sparse train or group of yellow mast-head lights, one blue
flame stands conspicuous.
The skipper still watches the little islands of foam,
making up his mind that he too will soon be in a position
to run up a blue light, and gives the word to haul in the
139
THE BRITISH HERRING FISHERY
nearest net for examination. The warp comes in so
easily that a stranger to the work would conclude that
nothing has been done ; surely only an empty net could
weigh so little!
True enough, as the first meshes rise above the water,
nothing can be seen in the net. But wait; near the
lower edge is an irregular row of herring, whose presence
suggests that there are more where they came from. ‘The
bulk of the shoal has not yet started to rise.
“That’s near enough,” says the skipper. “ Let’s run
out the whole fleet”; and speedily extra nets are fastened
on, one after another, till there is a wall of them, many
hundreds of yards long, trailing out into the sea, the
cork-line waggling and coiling till it looks like an endless
worm.
- Other boats are running up blue-lights now, but no one
troubles to comment on the fact; there is silence again,
only broken by the plop-plop of the fish as they rise, or
by a sudden wild shriek from the gulls as they announce
to their friends the fishermen that the herrings continue
to play near the surface. Following the track of the
cork-line with our eye, we can see that it is now illuminated
all along with streaks of greenish light ; every now and
then, too, we may see the bladders rocking and bobbing in
a curious manner; now one goes completely under and
comes up again; the corks are swaying hither and
thither irresponsibly. The advance-guard of a shoal is
being safely snared.
But, before there is time to do more than arrive at this
conclusion, a whole wave of phosphorus flashes along in
140
THE BRITISH HERRING FISHERY
the direction of the net-fleet, and bladders and cork-line
are drageed under; the tow-warp groans, and strains on
the boat. 'The main body is encountering the nets, and
the crew no longer care whether the Argyle has made a
strike or no; at any rate their boat has. They shuffle to
their feet without a word from the skipper, for ex-
perience of him and his methods has taught them that,
if he is not one to be in an unnecessary hurry, he equally
is not given to letting his nets get fouled or sunk, through
a foolish desire to catch more fish than he can possibly
carry away.
Seizing the sodden warp, they drag and strain till
sufficient of it is hauled in to go round the windlass; and
not till then does one of them untie the end of it from the
cross-bit. Irish or South Country fishermen would bid
him hurry himself, in no measured terms, for the strain is
unspeakable, even on these tough muscles and strong-knit
frames ; but the more phlegmatic Northerners just bide
their time and wait patiently while the end of the warp is
hitched to the windlass or the capstan, and till the click-
click of the ratch stops, telling them that the man who is
turning has taken in as much rope as, unaided, he is able.
Then one or two of them join him at the windlass, while
the rest stretch themselves and prepare for the further
task of drawing the nets over the gunwale. A few more
turns of the winch and the first bladder is lifted in and
the top corner of the nearest net comes into view. Again
the streaks of greenish light, more tangible now; again
the popping, buzzing sound; then you realise that
hundreds, or thousands, of the herring, caught fast by
141
THE BRITISH HERRING FISHERY
the gills, are wriggling for freedom, so close to you that
you can touch the polished little bodies; more, you can
see cod and other big fish jumping above water to snatch
a mouthful.
“ Yeo-ho; oo-up! Now, all together—oo-up! Now—
oo-up! Ali together!” murmur the hands in a sort of
doleful chorus, as they bend to their labour, and with
muscles strained to their utmost, hoist in coil after coil of
net, so stuffed with fish that, in places, it is difficult to
find ahand-hold. Here and there may be an empty mesh,
where a slender youngster has been able to squeeze itself
right through the little inch-and-a-half opening ; but
the majority of the middle and lower squares have
tenants.
_“ We'll have to be lively, lads,” says the skipper, who
has left the helm and is bearing a hand with the nets ;
“I'm thinking there'll be dead stuff in the last three,
else.”
When herring have been held by their gills for some
length of time they are apt to die—in fact, no fish dies so
quickly, whence the saying, “dead as a herring”; and
dead fish means dead weight; a net filled with such a
catch will sometimes tear itself away from the “ fleet”
and be lost beyond the hope of recovery. Therefore the
men waste no time in working their way through the
seemingly interminable series of nets, for the last three to
come up were the first three to be shot, and they will be
lucky if they find them unbroken. The last lot are more
crowded than ever ; every now and then there is a little
jerk as half a dozen meshes break ; and some of the men
142
THE BRITISH HERRING FISHERY
lean over the bulwarks and, getting their arms under the
net, lift in whole bundles of living and dead fish.
“Last lot,” says someone who has been mechanically
counting the nets as they come up. Now the jerks and
rips are growing more frequent, for here are more dead
herring than live ones. That last net will require a lot
of patient mending when they get it ashore, But, in
spite of breakages and unusual weight, it is pulled
aboard at last. While the men nearest the gunwale have
been hauling in, others behind them have been busily
shaking and twisting the nets in order to clear them as
far as they can of their silvery load; and now that all
hands can be spared for this work the hold is getting
fuller and fuller, till, to the inexperienced eye, it would
seem that the vessel must either founder or else take
about a day and a half to wander home, lame duck
fashion. But the crew cast almost a disparaging glance
over the catch; all of them have seen twice as many to
one strike.
“Unship the last three,” cries the skipper, ‘and let’s
try another shoot.”
The three nets at the top of the coil are untied and
laid aside, considerably the worse for wear; and, as the
water still glitters, and it will be long before daylight
appears, the remainder of the fleet is re-shot. ‘Then care-
ful hands spread out the pyramids of fish so that those at
the top fill up the spare corners of the hold and leave
room for the next batch.
Now that the nets are shot for the second time, a by-
stander has an opportunity of noticing that a peculiar
143
THE BRITISH HERRING FISHERY
cheep-cheep sound, like the squeak of mice, is coming up
from the hold. If the skipper be facetiously inclined he
will reply on being questioned as to the noise—
“Qu, it'll just be the haerin’ greetin’ to gae back.”
Such an informant must needs, one would think, be own
brother to the crab or lobster-boiler who announces that
his fish scream when thrown into the hot water. Asa
matter of fact the noise is caused by the escape of the air
from the herrings’ swimming-bladders.
“ All right; pull up—and shairp!” cries our skipper
suddenly; and the same weary work has to be gone
through all over again. And this time the meshes seem
fuller than before ; the net must have shot clean in front
of a shoal that was driving down with the current. The
skipper measures the contents of the hold with his eye.
There are still two more nets to be emptied, and the boat
won't stand another barrel-full. He takes a philosophical
view of the subject; the rest must go back. A grasping
young skipper would perhaps load his vessel till she was
like a coal-tramp, but this fellow has more sense; he has
done what he came to do and he means to get home. The
superfluous fish are shaken out of the net overboard, and
the tired fishermen withdraw to the fire, except those who
are occupied in unstepping the mast and fixing the lug.
Dawn is coming on; many of the mast-head lights
have disappeared and the fishing fleet show signs of
gathering together.
“Twelve maze,” or “ Fourteen cran,” cries the skipper
of the Argyle exultingly. “That'll beat ye, lad.”
“Tm thinking we've gotten as many,” says our skipper
144
UM ‘Auq oy} OVUL Woy oat
HOMO Ny {St su Auq uy
AVMMON NI ONIAING* ONIN
pres Peacrapagnrs - RE RET te
al ae eit:
pac hy:
Fe a he
Re “rg
oe
se
k2
THE BRITISH HERRING FISHERY
diffidently, knowing full well that his catch amounts to
nearly half as much again.
“ Maze,” “cran,” etc., it should be explained, are semi-
local terms. The measure for herrings differs according
to the neighbourhood. The three generally recognised
are the maze on the west coast of Scotland and the Irish
Sea generally (mease in Devonshire); the /ast on the east
coast of England, and the cran on the east of Scotland.
The last-named—equivalent to 262 gallons—makes the
fish sold by bulk; the other two by numbers. The east-
coast fishermen reckon the warp (i.e. 4 fish) as their unit ;
and 33 warps, or 132 fish, make a “long hundred”; 1320
fish go to the thousand, and ten thousand (13,200) = a
last.
The west-coasters reckon 123 to the long hundred,
and 5 long hundred (615) to the maze. Mr. Frederick
Pollock, however, makes the Devonshiremen arrive at
their maze in a totally different way. Their unit is a
cast, i.e. 3, or as many as can be held in the hand; 51
cast=a quarter maze (153)—the number, he points out,
of the miraculous draught mentioned in St. John xxi. 11;
and 4 quarter maze = 612.
Now that the sails are set the men are free to break-
fast ; for, unless they have come a long way from home—
in which case the fish has still to be sprinkled with salt
—there is nothing more for them to do till the question
of selling arises. The getting rid of the fish will also
differ in various districts. In many parts the boats will
have a good-sized harbour to run into, and the fishwives
will be waiting on the quay to buy up the catch as fast
K 145
THE BRITISH HERRING FISHERY
as it can be thrown out to them. At a big port like
Grimsby it will be hurried off to the market and sold
by auction, or at current market-price. In many places
the steam-carrier is requisitioned. She comes out to
meet the fleet at dawn, and the agents on board buy each
boat-load (or undertake to dispose of it at the market) as
it comes alongside.
As far as the picturesque is concerned, one cannot help
regretting that the account of the herring-fishery as out-
lined above must soon be decidedly “out of date.”
Following American and Norwegian examples our herring-
fleets have gradually congregated in the big ports, have
substituted the purse-seine or the trawl for the old gill-
net, and are even abandoning the luggers of our child-
hood in favour of ponderous steamers.
By means of the purses mentioned in the last chapter
an entire shoal will be taken (amounting sometimes to
hundreds of thousands), necessitating the employment
of extra deck-hands and the erection of huge store and
clearing-houses.
In addition to those herring caught here, millions are
brought to Hull and Lowestoft from Norway. 'The Nor-
wegian fishermen, on sighting a shoal, lower into the
water an imitation whale, made of wood and weighted ;
and, terrified at sight of this, the herring swim into a
bay which forms a natural trap. Huge purse-seines are
then shot and the whole shoal is rapidly netted. ‘The
catch is sold by the box or in one lot; in the latter case
the buyer bargains while the fish are still in the water,
and estimates the value with the aid of a water spy-glass.
146
CHAPTER XII
FISHING IN THE MEDITERRANEAN
Possibilities of the Mediterranean fisheries—Migration of the anchovy
—Shooting the seine for anchovies—The moored net—Some of its
occupants—The fisherman’s friends and enemies—Sharks—Saw-
fish and sword-fish—The tunny—Setting the nets—Slaughtering
the catch—Another Sicilian industry—Line-fishing.
SEA that is over two thousand miles long and con-
A siderably more than a million square miles in
extent, that never experiences a temperature of
less than 50° F., and scarcely knows the meaning of tides ;
above all, that abounds in fish of every description, as
well as turtles, sponge, coral, and amber, sounds like a
fisherman’s Elysium; and such, in the hands of more
energetic people than the North Africans and _ the
Southern Europeans, it might be. Unfortunately the
Mediterranean washes the coasts of nations that, for the
more part, have ceased to believe much in hard work ;
and even our own poor Irish fisheries are better managed
and relatively more productive than theirs. Exceptions
must be made in the case of France, and of Austria,
which has her Adriatic fishing navy of twelve thousand
men; also in that of the East Mediterranean sponge-
fishers, of whom more anon.
147
FISHING IN THE MEDITERRANEAN
The reader may ask, What about the Andalusian and :
Italian fisheries? What about the sardine industry ?
Spain and Italy import far more fish than they ever
catch, and Cornwall and Brittany send pilchards by the
million to the southern sardine factories every year.
Italy, it is true, has in late years taken more interest
in her fisheries, even to the extent of going in for arti-
ficial fish-breeding; but comparatively few of the men
attempt deep-water work.
Starting eastwards from Gibraltar, the first important
fishery we meet with is that carried on by the Andalusians,
French, and Genoese for the anchovy. This little fish is
about three inches long, bluish-brown on the back, and
silvery white on the belly. Strictly it is a tropical fish,
‘but the variety known as the common anchovy may be
found anywhere south of Ireland. By the end of April,
shoals of them collect off the south-west of Spain, and
sweep through the Strait of Gibraltar in millions. By
far the greater number of them, as soon as they are in the
Mediterranean, seem to take an almost straight course
north-east, shaving the under side of the Balearic Islands
and making steadily for the north of Corsica, and up to
Leghorn. Arrived here they circle round the little island
of Gorgona, remaining till the end of July, when the
survivors return to the Atlantic, swimming along the
Portuguese and French coasts, and even as far north as
England and Holland.
The Spaniards and the Majorcans thus get first shot at
the visitors; they use the seine principally, working it
from small boats close in to shore. Some, however, put
148
FISHING IN THE MEDITERRANEAN
out to sea in smacks something like the old Algerine
xebecs, rigged with two and three lateen or triangular
sails, and furnished with a bag-net that resembles a
shrimp-net without the beam. Many of the Genoese
anchovy fishers use the same kind of tackle, shooting it
from a boat whose build would astonish English fishermen ;
for it is a short, broad, clumsy little thing with a double
curve along the bottom, leaving her with no keel, or
rather with a keel that is buried between the two curves ;
nevertheless, experienced persons say that no better boat
for the class of work could be found.
The seine-catches are necessarily enormous. The shoals,
which can be seen from a great distance, announce their
presence by the pale tint which appears in patches on the
water; and at sight of these patches the boats put out.
Sometimes the Andalusians have no need to do more than
lie in wait on the shore, for the shoals come in so near
that it seems as if you could wade out and catch the fish
in buckets. Going leisurely to work, the rowing-boats
pull out to the far side of the nearest shoal, each two
carrying between them a seine a couple of hundred yards
long, six to eight fathoms deep in the middle, rounding
off to three or four at each end or wing.
When a pair of boats has arrived at the desired spot
the seine is shot as soon as they have separated to a
distance equal to the length of the net, each end of which
is made fast to a long tow-line, the other ends of these
being tied one to each boat. ‘Then the rowers pull back
very gently, the boats gradually getting nearer one an-
other again, and carry the tow-lines ashore, where women
149
FISHING IN THE MEDITERRANEAN
and children, or horses, are waiting to haul up. It will
be seen that the net, being pulled in by two forces that
gradually approach each other, thus converts itself into
a kind of bag in which the fish are swept along willy-nilly.
As soon as the seine is within a few yards of dry land
it is moored, a smaller net is shot inside it, and baling out
commences—a, task that sometimes lasts a whole day and
more; the fish are then packed in kegs between layers of
salt and taken to the factories, |
The anchovy industry is a very ancient one; the garwm
of the Roman banquets was merely another form of
anchovy sauce, and the condiment which Hindu cooks
call red-fish is obtained from the anchovies caught at the
mouth of the Ganges.
In the Adriatic and in the shallower parts of the Gulf
of Lyons, we find the moored net a good deal in use for
mullet and dory. With and without a beam, it is shot
across tide from small boats, which are held by the same
anchors that moor the net. The net is sunk half doubled
or “mouthed,” that is to say the ropes attached to the
upper corners by which it will ultimately be pulled up,
are first carried through rings at the lower corners so that,
when once it is anchored, it lies bowed ; and, on the ropes
being tightened by the upward pull, will become com-
pletely closed. Such nets are cleared the first thing in
the morning and the last thing at night, the fish being
taken ashore by tugs or large two-masters.
A frequent tenant of these nets is the dragonet, which
is beautifully marked with blue and yellow on a white
ground, and is of the same family as the Scotch “ gowdie.”
150
FISHING IN THE MEDITERRANEAN
Its peculiarity is that, instead of the ordinary gill-opening,
it has two holes in its neck; its eyes are situated on the
top of the head, so that the fish always looks upwards ;
its skin has no scales. With it will probably be found the
jaune dorée, or yellow gilt fish, which has been vulgarly
anglicised as “John Dory.” It may be remembered that
this fish, like the haddock, has an oval black spot on
either side; from which the pious southern fisher-folk
argue that it was from the dory’s mouth that St. Peter
took the tribute money, the marks being the impress of
his finger-tips ; unfortunately for the truth of the legend,
there is neither dory nor haddock in the Sea of Galilee or
in any other fresh water. Another fish of the same family,
which only the poorer Italians will eat, is the boar-fish,
whose head is shaped like the snout of a hog.
The fisherman of the south of France has a valued
friend in the maigre, a doubtful one in the pilot fish, anda
deadly enemy in the shark. The least known and most
interesting of these, the maigre, can be taken with long
lines, but quite as often goes of its own accord into a net
and stays there. Its average length is four feet, though
fishermen boast of having taken many six and seven feet
long. When it finds itself among a number of other fish,
it emits a humming or buzzing noise that is plainly;
audible through fifteen fathoms of water, and in this way
it is an infallible guide to the men as to where they should
shoot the nets. It figured in Roman feasts as the wmbrina,
and is still a great delicacy in France and Italy, especially
its head. Its internal hearing apparatus was worn, set in
gold, in the Middle Ages, as a charm against colic.
151
FISHING IN THE MEDITERRANEAN
The pilot-fish, as our sailors call it, resembles the
mackerel in size, marking, and flavour, and can be trawled
with more ease than anything except a herring, for, in
small batches, it will follow a ship for a thousand miles.
But fishermen have a superstition that there is a secret
understanding between itself and the shark, for where one
is the other is usually not far off.
Almost all varieties of sharks, except the Greenlander,
are represented in these waters: the fox-shark, the
hammer-head, the white, the blue, etc. The last is the
fisherman’s pet abomination, for it not only eats the fish
that heis wanting to catch, varying its diet with a human
meal when circumstances permit, but it will bite a mouth-
ful out of a full net (generally about half the catch), and
swallow fish and meshes with gusto. The shark is shot
and harpooned for the sake of his oil and the well-being
of the community, and the Levant traders make a con-
siderable sum annually over the sale of shagreen, which is
supposed to be shark-skin dressed, but is more often the
hide of camels, donkeys, and horses.
Two other net-destroyers are the pristes, or saw-fish,
whose toothed snout is familiar to most of us; and the
celebrated sword-fish. This giant—his body is fourteen
feet long and his proboscis another seven—is an un-
reasonable beast. He does not care about fish as food, in
fact, he lives on seaweed, yet is never so happy as when
breaking up a shoal and frightening fish away from his
neighbourhood ; and, when he happens to take up a
position in front of the net, this propensity of his has
rather a disastrous effect, for other fish dare not come
152
FISHING IN THE MEDITERRANEAN
near. He is a wonderfully fast swimmer, as may be seen
when he is fleeing from a shark, and is perhaps the most
powerful of all fish. He will swim straight through a
full net, tearing up the anchors or snapping the tow-lines ;
sometimes he is shot, and his flesh is supposed to be par-
ticularly nutritious, especially if he is young.
Passing downwards to Sicily and Sardinia we find the
inhabitants possessing a monopoly in tunny-fishing. That
monopoly, by the way, is only of recent date, for these
curiosities used to be caught in great numbers by the
Andalusian fishermen and also by the Turks.
The tunny (Greek thuno, to dart along) is a giant
mackerel, dark blue above, white below, and silver on the
sides, measuring anything from ten to twenty feet long,
and sometimes weighing as much as half a ton. It is not
quite peculiar to the Mediterranean, for there is a species
found off the east coast of the United States which the
Americans call the albicore and the horse-mackerel.
In Sicily and Sardinia it is caught very much as the
Sicilian Greeks captured it, seven hundred years 2.c., only
with perhaps less assiduity, by means of nets and
harpoons. Like other creatures that shoal, they can-
not do without betraying their whereabouts, and a man
perched on an eminence can detect from a great distance
the pale brown blotches which a crowd of them would
create on the water-surface. In spring and summer the
fish come within a mile of the shore for spawning, and it
is then that the tunny-harvest is made.
A coarse-meshed net, more than a mile long, is carried
out to sea, and one end of it moored, the other being
153
FISHING IN THE MEDITERRANEAN
made fast ashore or to a smack ; a second, almost as long,
is then shot parallel to the coast, making with the first
net either a T or a cross, and these are left in that
position for at least twenty-four hours. When asufficient
number of fish have been covered, the towing-in begins ;
the anchors are pulled up, and a line fastened to each wing
is rapidly carried ashore by boats. The towlines being
pulled very swiftly—often by horse-power—not only the
fish that are already caught by the gills are brought in,
but also those that happen to be within reach of the two
wings.
The moment the net is drawn into a specially prepared
shallow, the fish find themselves enclosed above and below,
and there is no possible escape for them. Then the kill-
ing; this is unsportsmanlike, but all fishing is apt to be
so when money is the sole end in view. ‘The poor fish,
mewed up so closely that you can’t tell one from another,
are speared at leisure from the boats with harpoons till
all are dead. They are then disembowelled and quartered
and taken ashore for boiling, for the sake of their oil,
which is valuable and plentiful, one fish alone sometimes
yielding twenty gallons. Tunny-fishing gives employment
to more than three thousand men in the two islands,
much of the work in Sicily being done by convicts.
Another Sicilian industry, now on the wane although
popular among the ancients, is pinna-gathering, the
“pinna” being a member of the pearl-mussel family.
The shell is immense, about the size of a very large meat-
dish, and is gathered by wading and rock-scrambling.
The fish itself is a secondary matter, though it is largely
154
FISHING IN THE MEDITERRANEAN
eaten by the poorer classes; but the filament or byssus,
by which it attaches itself to the rocks or other objects,
is about two feet long, and is used for making fabrics,
being very tough and glossy.
The Greek and East Mediterranean fisheries are so
sadly neglected that there is really nothing to say about
them, all such work being overshadowed by the importance
attached to sponge-diving ; while the fisheries of Austria
do not differ from those of Italy except in magnitude.
On the African coast of the Sea, fresh-water fish are more
sought after than those from salt water, for the reason
that they are more easily come by. The fishermen of
Tripoli are industrious, and France has infused a certain
amount of energy into those of Tunisia; but, while a
hand-net lowered haphazard into a pool or river will
bring up a day’s supply of fish for a whole family—nay,
while live fish are even thrown at a man’s door, as some-
times happens in North Africa when an artesian well is
sunk, coast work is liable to be neglected.
A word about Mediterranean line-fishing among the
French, Genoese and Venetians. Hand-lines are used
principally for maigres, eels, and rays, the work being done
from quays and small boats. Among the rays thus caught
is one which commands more sale to conjurers, naturalists,
and practical jokers than to ordinary consumers—the
torpedo, or electric ray, which is so like the skate that it
is often mistaken for it, and which has under its gills, two
organs wherein is lodged an electrical apparatus capable
of giving twenty or thirty violent shocks per minute.
155
CHAPTER XIII
THE PILCHARD—THE STURGEON
The Cornish fisherman—The pilchard—Shoaling—Drift-nets and
seines—The ‘‘seine-boat”—Shooting the net—The stop-seines—
Sharks !—‘* Tucking ”—Taking the fish ashore—The factory—The
sturgeon—Russian sturgeon and sterlet fishing—Isinglass and
caviare.
ORNWALL and the pilchard are as closely asso-
ciated in one’s mind as Devonshire and cream, and
any one who has seen the coast-line between the
Lizard and St. Ives will also unconsciously connect pil-
chard-fishing with danger. Certain spots do not get such
names as the Devil’s Frying-pan or the Lion Rocks for
nothing.
The Cornish fisherman takes himself far more seriously
than the happy-go-lucky fellows of the south and east
coasts. Instead of their quaint survivals of Saxon
paganism, he holds certain gloomy predestinarian views,
and devoutly believes in the ultimate perdition of the
Devonshire trawlers. But he is a fine man all the same,
and if his opinions give him the courage to face a rock-
studded sea that, even in the brightest of weather, would
be uninviting to most landsmen, he had better stick to
them.
From October to July he is occupied as fishing jack-of-
156
THE PILCHARD—THE STURGEON
all-trades—spratting, crabbing, mackerelling, trawling.
But, when July comes, every other interest is put on
one side by the men of St. Ives and Penzance for the sake
of the pilchard-harvest, which will last till the equinoctial
storms of late September have begun to drive the fish to
the ground, or further out to sea.
The pilchard, or the “gypsy herring” as the Scotch
fishermen call it, is merely a large sardine or a small
herring, and may be of any length up to nine inches.
Really it can be found off the Cornish coast at all seasons
of the year, though in December and January one would
have to go down to the mud after it; in March it begins
to shoal, but to no great extent, and the fishery seldom
starts before the end of June or beginning of July. For
some good reason the pilchard has, through successive cen-
turies, decided that that particular quarter of the Atlantic
is best adapted to spawning purposes and to the special
class of food which it most affects; and thus, year after
year, it chooses almost the same spots for shoaling. It is
a most voracious little creature, its food consisting mainly
of a kind of shrimp scarcely larger than a pin’s head, or
of the roes of dead fish when it can get them.
A shoal of pilchards must be seen in order to be fully
realised. It has been likened to an immense army, with
wings outstretched in line with the land, and composed of
contingents which are continually taking up a new posi-
tion. Wherever the shoals move, they give the appear-
ance of a cloud-shadow to the water-surface, and by this
the pilchard-watchmen profit; for men are placed on
rising ground to look for these signs, and the moment
157
THE PILCHARD—THE STURGEON
they see them they signal by means of a white canvas ball
to the boats that are lying in wait below.
Ever since the reign of Queen Elizabeth this fishery has
been closely protected and governed by Acts of Parlia-
ment; the law even decides as to the dimensions of the
nets, every one of which has to be registered. St. Ives
has over three hundred nets, and is the centre of six
specially appointed fishing-stations.
The net most in use is the seine—and that of gigantic
proportions; the smallest allowed for out-fishing being a
hundred and sixty fathoms long, eight fathoms deep at
the middle, and six at the ends. These belong principally
to companies nowadays, but a few private individuals still
embark in the trade. Fleets of drift-nets, seven fathoms
deep and three-quarters of a mile long, are also used, and
are worked like herring-nets.
The old-fashioned “seine-boat” is a ponderous craft
thirty-two feet long, manned by a crew of eight—six to
row and two to manage the gear. Before sunset she is
lying off the shore, awaiting the signal from the men on
the look-out, and, the moment that comes, she pulls away
as directed by them. With her are two shorter boats,
each with six men aboard, and behind her she tows a
third—a little cock-boat or “lurker,” from which the
skipper gives his orders and superintends the manipula-
tion of the net; thus a pilchard-seine takes four boats to
manage it.
At such work as this there is little time for spells
of idleness; hard, heavy rowing, often against wind and
current, is the oarsmen’s portion; unceasing vigilance that —
158
*yNO Way} 2]eq 0} suTvUaI A]UO 71 pue ‘advjINs 94} 0} YSY ayy jo raqunu
adie] B Sursuriq “eAvouod dn sewoo yon} ey, “Ju os] ey} Oprsur JOYS st Yor ‘jau-yON} w Jo ple oy} YA outs ay) Sutrvayo st, Surjony,,,
SNIHSIA-GUVHOTIG
THE PILCHARD—THE STURGEON
of the skipper and the net-minders. At times the skipper
seems to be giving as many and as rapid directions as
though he were a coach training a racing crew. ‘This is
because there is no reliance to be placed on the position
of the bodies of the shoal; at one time the fish will
appear to be making straight away from the boat's
course ; the minute after, the rowers must suddenly slow
up, because it seems as though the entire shoal is driving
as quickly as possible towards them.
At last, at a shout from the skipper, every one stops
pulling and rests on his oar, and the two net-men in the
seine-boat, one at bow and the other in the stern, throw
the ends of the seine to the two smaller boats, and all
three begin shooting. ‘The “bunt” or deepest portion of
the net is sunk from the large boat and requires cayeful
handling, being the most heavily weighted part. As soon
as the lower edge of this has touched the water it is
maintained in that position while the other two crews
arrange the tow-lines that are to be attached to the
wings,
“ Right,” and “ Ay, ay!” come hoarsely from first one
boat and then the other, and the men in the principal
boat lower the bunt gently, parallel to the coast-line, till
only the cork-rope is visible. .
Now that the main net is down the seine-boat pulls
rapidly back towards the shore for a minute and then
stops again, waiting to complete the work. Meanwhile
the boat at each end has been joining one wing of a
second and a third net—the “stop-seines”—to the prin-
cipal seine, and is now pulling towards the bigger craft in
159
THE PILCHARD—THE STURGEON
order to throw the connecting line at the other end on
board of her, paying out part of her stop-seine as she
goes. ‘The lines are seized by the waiting crew, drawn
together, and the two stops joined so that they are like
one net; and then the meeting-point is lowered like the
rest. The result of this manceuvre is that a second seine
has been shot—making, with the first, an oval or a letter
D, according to the length of the stops—in front of the
shoal, thereby arresting the fish that had been swimming
towards the shore away from the large seine and driving
them back to it.
Now the three boats, all pulling together, begin slowly
towing in till shallower water is reached. Then another
halt is made, for the area covered by the nets is larger
than is necessary, now that there is no longer danger of
the fish swimming under the net. 'The small boats again
make for the “joins”; each one separates its own end of
the stop-net from the wing of the seine, and between
them they rapidly draw these wings together till the
whole forms a rough circle; then the stop-net is removed
‘and towing begins once more, and continues till some
time after the lead-line has begun to scrape along the
bottom, when the net is moored.
By dawn the men will be off again, for sunset and sun-
rise are the two favourable times for catching. 'The nets
are paid out as before, the morning work being perhaps a
little more leisurely done, because light is coming instead
of going. Occasionally while at this morning fishing, the
cork-line is suddenly seen to sway and bob, and perhaps to
be drawn under altogether, as though a shoal had been
160
THE PILCHARD—THE STURGEON
caught by the gills and were carrying it down with their
weight.
“A shark, lads,” roars the skipper. ‘Look to your
tow-ropes.”
Again the cork-line ducks, then comes up again, and
floating with it is, alas! a jagged strip of netting several
yards long. A blue shark that has wandered up from
the Bay of Biscay has helped himself to a mouthful of
the fish.
“‘ Pull up sharp,” is the order, which is quickly executed
and the net examined. Perhaps the mischievous monster
has but bitten a hole big enough for its unwieldy body to
pass through; if so a fold is made, the edges are deftly
joined up without useless lamentation, and the net is
taken aboard till another shoal presents itself. But where
drift-nets are used, and the pilchards therefore a fixture
in the net, times have been known when, on starting to
haul up, the hapless fishermen have found little to haul
beyond the cork-line and a strip of net, for the shark has
passed along the entire length of the “ fleet,” cutting out
the catch as though with a pair of scissors, with the result
that the lower part of the net—or as much of it as has
not been swallowed—has been sunk irretrievably, together
with the fish that it contained.
During the past five-and-twenty years many of the
old seine rowing-boats have been displaced by steamers,
but it may be questioned how far this is a change for
the better. Certainly larger seines can be used, and
towing is made easier, but here the fishermen will tell
you that the advantages end; for a great part of the
L 161
THE PILCHARD—THE STURGEON
work must still be done by small boats, so that there is
no appreciable decrease in the danger involved, and when
the men add up their profits they find themselves no
better off than before.
We left the full seine moored close in to shore, await-
ing the operation known as “tucking.” When so many
thousands of fish are packed together in this manner they
cannot be taken from the net all in a few minutes, or
even hours. A good-sized catch of pilchards will often
take several days to move, whence the notion of keeping
them in the water alive. Where the fish have been taken
in drift-nets they are removed on board the smacks
from which the nets have been shot, and sprinkled with
salt.
“'Tucking” is clearing the seine with the aid of a tuck-
net, which is just half the length of the principal seine.
It is shot from a small boat, inside the large net, and
when it is down we notice that in addition to the two
end lines which are being drawn together, a third and
stouter one is sticking out of the water. This line is
fastened to the lower edge of the smaller bunt, and is
now hauled on till the middle of the tuck comes up
concave, drawing a large proportion of the fish up to
the surface ; and it only remains to bale them out. This
is done by scooping them into large baskets, which are
placed in the boats that are waiting round the moored
seine, and sent ashore.
The crowd of watchers for the boats is composed of
two classes: “ blowsers,” or licensed porters who carry the
bulk of the catch to the curing-yard ; and the wives and
162
THE PILCHARD—THE STURGEON
children of the fishermen, who will take home as many
fish as they can, for there is scarcely one of these in-
dustrious Cornishmen who does not do a certain amount
of curing on his own account in his spare time.
Let us now take a glance at one of these curing-yards,
where almost all the work is in the hands of women.
In the first place the pilchards have to be sorted, the
larger ones to be exported to the West Indies or sold
for local consumption, the smaller to be sent to the
Mediterranean to be made into sardines. Then a large
square space on the stone floor is covered with a stratum
of the fish, and over it is sprinkled a generous supply
of coarse salt; then other layers of fish and salt alter-
nately, till a pile five or six feet high is made. The
heaps are left in this condition for a month, the oil,
water, and salt gradually draining out of them into
gutters communicating with tanks.
By this time the fish are “cured”; they have now to
be carefully washed, after which only the packing remains
to be done; the latter is the most important and lengthy
part of the business, for improperly packed fish and bad
fish mean the same thing. 'The pilchards must be placed
in layers in barrels, and, when each barrel will hold no
more, a weight is placed on the top of it and the bulk
is steadily reduced by gradual pressure till the tub is
only two-thirds full, the oil thus squeezed from the fish
oozing out of the seams. When the barrel has been
filled up once more, the pressure is repeated ; and so on,
till it will hold no more, and the fish are ready for
export. The liquor drained and squeezed from the
163
THE PILCHARD—THE STURGEON
pilchards was at one time allowed to run away and breed
fever, but it is now collected with great care and sold as
manure,
THE STURGEON
I do not include the sturgeon in this chapter because
zoologically it is a close relative of the pilchard, but
because it too has to pass through a factory and export
phase. So far from being connected with the pilchard,
it has little but gills, fins, and tail in common with
it, for it is a cartilaginous fish, like the shark, having
gristle in place of true bone; it is devoid of teeth
and has a long tapering snout, whence its name is
derived (Latin, stivia, an icicle). Like the salmon, it
divides its time between the sea and the river, though
there is an entirely fresh-water variety which is found
in the shallows of Lakes Michigan and Erie. Generally
speaking, it passes the greater part of the year in the
sea, entering the rivers in spring for spawning, and
occasionally in the autumn for some purpose at present
unknown. Its length is from six to eleven feet, and it
is believed to live for two and three hundred years.
South Russia and parts of North America are the
special localities for this fishery, though the sturgeon
appears in all the temperate quarters of the world. Most
readers are probably aware that in England it is a
“royal fish,” and when found in the Thames within the
Lord Mayor’s jurisdiction can be claimed by the Sov-
ereign.
164
THE PILCHARD—THE STURGEON
In the Caspian, Azov and Black Seas it is sometimes
taken by long lines, but the Russian fishermen mostly
rely on the spring up-river migration; at one Volga
station alone more than ten thousand fish are often
caught during that fortnight. The modern method is
by double-walled nets moored across the current at the
river-mouths, or by stake-weirs ; but the peasants higher
up the river still go in for the medizval process of
“snatching” the fish—sturgeon or sterlet, for the only
difference is that the sterlet is smaller—with a cork and
bare hook.
As soon as the thaws have finished, quite a fleet of the
little home-made boats may be seen dotted about the
quieter parts of the Volga, two men to a boat, one rowing
and the other fishing. In spite of the sturgeon’s being
a ground feeder, he can often be persuaded to come to
the surface, for he possesses a double portion of fish-
inquisitiveness; therefore long lines are not absolutely
necessary. Ordinarily the peasant ties a piece of cork
or light wood on his line, and, a few inches below it, a
barbed hook as stout as a pot-hook. ‘This he throws a
good distance from his boat and waits till a fish rises.
In the thick of the season he need not wait long, for a
fish quickly comes up to investigate, and a skilful fisher-
man will have jerked the hook into some part of its body
long before its curiosity is satisfied. The larger fish are
also harpooned.
To a poor Russian the catching of a big sturgeon is
almost a fortune, for every bit of it is valuable. It is no
uncommon sight to see a peasant-fisherman rowing or
165
THE PILCHARD—THE STURGEON
rafting down-stream to the nearest station with quite a
cargo of these giants. Eaten fresh, the flesh is white and
somewhat resembles veal.
At the factory the fish is first carefully opened and
cleaned ; the air-bladder and the roe being set aside, and
the entrails removed to be boiled for oil. 'The bladder,
after being freed from all greasy matter, is rendered down,
and yields the purest gelatine that is to be found in the
animal kingdom—a substance better known commercially
as isinglass, which name is taken from the Dutch huizen
blas, sturgeon bladder.
A more important process relates to the roe; the pro-
curing of caviare. 'The roes, after they have been properly
cleaned, are lightly beaten with twigs so that the eggs
may be dislodged and separated ; then the whole mass is
rubbed or pressed through a sieve till the eggs have all
filtered into a tub below, the tissues of the roe remaining
in the sieve. 'The eggs are then dried and salted.
Lastly, the flesh is cut into strips which are laid for
some weeks in brine-tanks and, when sufficiently salted,
are smoked like bacon.
166
CHAPTER XIV
THE CATCHING OF LOBSTERS,
CRABS, AND WHELKS
Fish that are caught in pots—The lobster—Colonial fish—The Bergen
and Christiansund lobster-fishery—Cray-fish—Crabs—The hermit
—Land crabs—Tropical and fresh-water crabs—Crabbing— Whelks
—Fishing with ‘‘trots”—Whelking as a trade—The boats—The
pots—The fish.
OBSTERS, crabs, and whelks are fish that, on
account of their habits, their formation, and their
general preference for deep water, require special
gear before they can be taken in the large quantities that
the market demands; the name given to that form of
gear is pots.
None of these animals possess a very high degree of
intelligence where escape from captivity is concerned, and
all of them are as greedy and insatiable as sharks ; there-
fore the trap that will catch them need not be a marvel
of ingenuity. A lobster-pot is generally a wicker cage
with a small opening ; sometimes it is dome-shaped, some-
times oval; often, again, it is formed like a soiled-linen
basket with the middle or waist narrowed down to about
a third of the original circumference. The lobster’s own
curiosity is sufficient to encourage it to “step inside”;
but to stimulate desire, a piece of meat or fish is laid or
167
THE CATCHING OF LOBSTERS
suspended in the “belly” of the pot, and the result is
that, when the tackle has been down for a few hours, a
store of struggling lobsters will be found lying at the
bottom, for not one of them will have the good sense to
try to get out by the way he came in.
Lobsters are by no means so plentiful round these
coasts as they used to be, no doubt because it is only
comparatively lately that the law has troubled to protect
them ; and the greater number of those sold at the shops
come from Scandinavia. Nearly three-quarters of a
million fish are imported from there every year. Scot-
land, however, still seems to maintain her position as a
lobster country, and the Orkneys and the Hebrides send
from one to two hundred thousand fish in the course of a
twelvemonth to Billingsgate.
The canned lobsters, apart from those from Scandi-
navia, come from Newfoundland and British Columbia.
Latterly South Africa has also embarked in the tinned-
lobster trade, and it is probable that the Cape Colony
will not stop at lobsters, but will, in years to come,
develop into one of the world’s great fishing centres.
Why not? It has hundreds of miles of coast-line; its
latitude is about the same as that of Western Australia
or Queensland; above all, along the bank that runs out
from Cape Agulhas, is the end of the cold current which
sweeps down the east coast from Madagascar, and which
ensures a perennial and bountiful supply of fish.
The chief Norwegian lobster export centres are Bergen
and Christiansund, which two towns form the limits of a
curved line of the oldest and perhaps most productive
168
CRABS, AND WHELKS
lobster-grounds in the world. Here thousands of small
boats are at work during the greater part of the year, for
there are still few restrictions in regard to this fishery,
though they are now being increased; the bulk of the
Norwegian lobsters, however, are caught between March
and September. Most local by-laws forbid the taking
of spawning fish, and of those which measure less than
eight inches from “beak” to tail.
There is no inducement to the fishermen to take small
fish, for the large ones are generally plentiful enough ;
the infant lobsters, moreover, are very careful to be out
of the way. When a little one leaves its mother its shell
is still unformed, and its body therefore unprotected, and,
while in this condition, it is liable to be snapped up by
the first cod or conger that comes along ; and if it should
attempt to remain in a lobster colony it may expect to be
eaten by adult fish of its own species; therefore it wisely
swims away to the shallows, finds a strong position for
itself in a rock-crevice, and there remains till its shell
hardens and the animal can return to open water without
fear. Every year it will go back to this or a similar
hiding-place, for lobsters lose their shells annually, and
are, for three or four days, defenceless; and it is during
this shell-less period that much of their growth takes
place. From the time a shell begins to re-form till it is
quite hard, the lobster is said to be “soft,” and if one
finds its ways into the trap it is thrown out again, for
the fishermen believe it to be poisonous. This is un-
likely, although an animal that is about to cast its shell is
undoubtedly sickly, and can scarcely be wholesome as food.
169
THE CATCHING OF LOBSTERS
The pots are generally roped together, half a dozen or
a dozen at a time; a weight or a stone is put into each,
and one after another is allowed to sink; to the last one of
the series a buoy-line is tied and its upper end fastened
to a cork or keg. Sometimes the fish are so plentiful in
one spot as to keep a large fleet of boats occupied the
whole day in setting the tackle, and the catches are
brought ashore literally by the boat-load.
A cargo of live lobsters are not the most desirable of
companions in a small boat; an animal that has eight
legs, and fangs like pincers, is a sort of thing one likes to
keep at a distance; for a nip of a lobster is rather like a
burn from a hot iron. 'The legs are a very variable num-
ber, for the lobster seems to have power to part with one
when he likes; take him by the claw and he will wriggle
away, leaving the limb in your hand rather than allow
himself to be captured. One of the most curious facts
about the fish is its extreme sensitiveness to loud noises;
if a gun be fired close to it, it will shed some of its claws
immediately, and the same thing will often happen during
a thunderstorm. These limbs grow again in course of
time.
A very close relative of the lobster is the cray-fish or
craw-fish, which most of us, as children, have caught in
the rivers. Most of this species are small, but those
of the Indian rivers as well as the celebrated Tasmanian
cray are very large, and are eagerly sought by the local
fishermen.
Far more variety exists where the crab is concerned
than among the lobsters. In common with the lobsters
170
CRABS, AND WHELKS
it has four pairs of legs, and a fifth pair which are con-
verted into nippers. Many naturalists are of opinion,
from the shape of its feet, that it is properly a land
animal; and this argument is strengthened by the fact
that certain varieties live entirely on land. The common
crab is nearly always a deep-water fish, except where, as
for example, on the Cornish coast, the deep rock-pools
on the shore promise it reasonable immunity from tres-
passers; and the same may be said of most of the in-
edible crabs, the spider, the red crab, etc., many of which
are never seen except on board a fishing-boat, when they
have allowed themselves to be scooped up by a dredge,
or have got themselves caught on a cod-hook.
For some reason or other most of these fish seem to
be inedible, for, beyond the common crab and its little
shore brother, no British crabs are ever eaten. The
others are nevertheless valuable as bait, and though they
are not regarded as a special bait-fishery like mussels or
whelks, the shrimpers contrive to do good business with
a very large quantity of them.
One of the finest bait-crabs is undoubtedly the hermit,
or as the fishermen call it the “farmer,” for its soft,
unprotected body is a great temptation to all fish.
Hermits may be picked up on some beaches at low tide
after rough weather, but the majority of those used for
bait are bought of the dredgers, for whether they inter-
fere with oysters or not, they are always found in large
numbers where oysters most do congregate. While the
upper part of the animal is as well protected by shell
and nippers as that of the other crabs, the lower is quite
171
THE CATCHING OF LOBSTERS ©
soft and pulpy. Guided by the marvellous instinct of
self-protection, the little creature, as soon as it can fend
for itself, seeks out some small shell into which it can
fit the defenceless portion of its body, and, as it grows,
it abandons the shell in favour of a larger one, changing
its abode periodically till it comes to full size and can
fill the shell of a very large whelk.
One day I persuaded a hermit that was trying to crawl
away through a port-hole, to come out of his shell, and
then dropped him into a bucket of sea-water with his
own whelk-shell and another a size smaller; he crawled
to the smaller one, examined it closely, but did not
attempt to “fit it on”; after a minute’s hesitation he
pushed it contemptuously away, moved over to the larger
shell and, after a brief hesitation, back-watered into it,
drew in his horns and settled down to sleep comfortably.
In some parts of the world—Keeling Island, for instance
—these hermits are to be seen waddling about on land.
Talking of land-crabs, the largest and most extra-
ordinary, as well as the most valuable kind, is the Birgos
or purse crab, which is from two to three feet long and
is an inhabitant of the East Indian Islands. This animal
pays a daily visit to the sea, for the purpose of moistening
its antennz, but spends the rest of its time in its nest
which is made at the root of a tree—generally a cocoa-
nut palm. It burrows a large hole in the ground and
lines it thickly with cocoa-nut fibre, thereby laying up
a vast store of that useful material for the natives to
avail themselves of. As food it is pronounced excellent
by Europeans, but what is of more consequence to the
172
CRABS, AND WHELKS
Malay fishermen is its oil; each adult contains a huge
lump of fat which yields a quart of pure oil. Whether
these crabs actually climb the trees after the nuts on
which they live is a disputed point which does not come
within our province to settle.
Another remarkable crab and, from the fisherman’s
point of view, the only useless one, is the glass crab of
the tropical seas; this creature is transparent and, but
for its staring, blue-black eyes, would be invisible in the
water.
All readers may not be aware that there are such things
as fresh-water crabs, quite distinct from the cray-fish.
They are to be found in the Indian rivers as well as in
many of those of South Europe; in the latter they are
caught with pots similar to lobster-traps ; the carapace or
upper shell is almost square, and the antennz are
curiously short.
Here in England crabbing is scarcely a trade by itself,
but is rather pursued in slack or leisure time ; the Cornish
pilchard-fishers, for instance, fill in their intervals with
such work. The most commonly used tackle is an iron
hoop with two diametrical cords, crossing at right angles ;
dependent from the hoop is a net-bag which bellies out
till the circumference is nearly twice that of the hoop.
The fisherman baits the trap with fish—generally ray—
fastens a short bit of rope handle-wise across the frame,
and lowers the pot by a long cord that is tied to the
middle of the handle. When he feels the hoop touch the
bottom he raises it again about a foot, so as to give free
play to the net, and then makes his end fast to a buoy or
173
THE CATCHING OF LOBSTERS
to his boat. For small-crab fishing less care is needed ;
the pots are let down in a series, left for some hours and
then pulled up again, and the catches thus made are
sometimes enormous; I have seen as many small crabs
in one pot as would fill a peck measure. By small crabs
I mean such as just come within legal limit, for the law
is very sharp nowadays on the crabbers; no fish that
measures less than four and a quarter inches in length
may be taken; fishermen are also forbidden to take
spawners, and crabs whose shell has not hardened ; for
these fish assume a new shell every year just as the
lobsters do.
I spoke of crabs as bait. Whelks and crabs “se
mangent entre eux”; there are few things the one likes so
much as a taste of the other; but the odds are in favour
of the crab, for it is only when his shell is soft, or after he
is dead, that the whelk gets a fair chance at him. The
fisherman comes along and, like the stork that settled the
dispute between the frog and the mouse by eating the
pair of them, catches the crabs and then uses them as
bait to catch the whelks. This method of whelking by
means of lines is the one least commonly known, and we
must leave the consideration of pots to glance at it.
Whelk-lines, generally termed “trots” or “bulters”
(not to be confused with the “bulters” mentioned in
Chapter IV), are great favourites with the Thames-mouth
fishermen. Each main line has short lines (called
“‘snoods”) tied at right angles to it, at intervals of a few
yards, and every short line has twenty tiny crabs fastened
to it, each about six inches apart from the other. This
174.
CRABS, AND WHELKS
tackle is shot in the same manner as the ordinary long
lines, the far end buoyed, and the other either buoyed or
kept in the boat.
In a very short time the lines are alive with whelks, for
their movements are quicker than those of land gastero-
pods, and their appetites more ravenous, They fasten
themselves on the unresisting crabs and, with their power-
ful, toothed tongues, begin to eat through the shell;
when once they have taken the bait nothing will shake
them off, and the little fools fall victims to their own
greed. The strength of a whelk is enormous; pick one
up when he is crawling about the deck and try to hold
him from withdrawing into his shell; you cannot do it
once in a hundred times. No wonder then that the
pulling up of the trots does not shake off any of the
catch from their prey.
It may be surmised, from their being caught in such
large numbers, that whelks are very prolific; they are.
When do you ever go to the seaside without seeing the
spawn lying about? It is contained in those irregular
clumps or bunches of white, spongy-looking globules that
are often taken for seaweed, Dog-whelk spawn is generally
seen only in deep water and, instead of being bunched
together, every capsule is distinct ; it is generally thrown
on stones and rocks, and looks like a beautiful yellow
growth or lichen, in shape and size not unlike heather
blossom.
Whelking is a trade by itself; and it is a very lucrative
one, partly because many men are frightened at the
apparently low prices paid for the fish, and so steer clear
175
THE CATCHING OF LOBSTERS
of it, and allow the few to make their profit undisturbed ;
and partly because whelks are never out of season either
as food or bait. They are sold principally to the line-
fishers of the north and east, not by the cart- or ship-
load like mussels, but by the bushel or the bag.
The most renowned whelkers are the Norfolk men, and
where local feeling is not too strong against such a
measure, they carry on what might otherwise be a
neglected industry in other eastern and southern fishing
grounds besides their own. As a rule they are not inter-
fered with, for though fishermen are proverbially tenacious
of their rights, they are seldom churlish. But the inter-
lopers must mind their manners; you may see a hundred
pounds’ worth of whelk-gear deliberately sunk by the
lawful tenants of the ground if it has been shot so as
to do harm to the local industry. Generally, however,
the whelkers are regarded as harmless lunatics who
“whelk” because they are fit for nothing else.
One of the funniest things I ever saw in connection
with the fishermen was their contempt for some whelkers’
boats brought to a southern fishing town from the
Norfolk coast; they were beautiful boats, too: large
enough for lifeboats, and, when rigged with a big lug-
sail, they could almost fly through the water. ‘Then why
the contempt? Because they had been brought down by
rail! What good could any boat be that had arrived in
such an ignominious fashion? Scarcely any of these good
fellows had ever been in a train—save one old dear who
went to London once upon a time, and while there (not
being able to read) “steered” himself about by means of
176
CRABS, AND WHELKS
a pocket-compass and the weather-cocks, and whose
method of finding a given spot was to “shape a course
nor’-east,” etc. After a day or two he shook the dust of
London off his feet, because he was sure that wherever
he went there was always a policeman following him;
whereas he “knowed he shouldn’t be took for a thief
down home.”
These despised little boats go off every day with the
ebb tide, and on reaching water whose depth at high tide
would be about five fathoms, make ready to clear and re-
lower the gear. The pulling up of the nearest buoy-line
drags up the first few of the series of pots; these are
emptied one by one, and the cord is hauled and hauled
till the whole row of pots—generally about fifty in
number—lie empty in the boat. ‘Then you can see that,
attached to the buoy-lines, is a main or ground-rope,
about a quarter of a mile in length, along which the pots
are threaded at intervals of from three to five fathoms.
The pots themselves are far more elaborate than those
used for crabs or lobsters; the upper part is a dome made
of thin strips of iron, and its base is a perforated iron
disc from which depends a little net bag capable of
holding two gallons. Round the dome, a cord—the
“rattling line”—is laced loosely, and acts as a ladder up
which the whelks climb to reach the bait that is lying on
the sieve-like base, through which they will fall into the
net below.
The pots are soon rebaited and thrown over again, and
the boat sails away to her next buoy. You can see now
why such a capacious craft must be employed ; one series
M 177
LOBSTERS, CRABS, AND WHELKS
of pots if full would yield about twelve bushels of whelks ;
and a fair average catch from five series would be forty
bushels. The fish are stowed in bags and sent away by
rail.
It may be asked, what need is there for making a
special fishery of whelks when the dredgers land such a
great number? ‘The dredgers do indeed, when their own
catches are poor, pick out the whelks and put them aside
for selling; but it is rather like a private householder .
saving his empty wine-bottles for sale; the proceeds of
small quantities are so ridiculously low that only a miserly
or very poor man would trouble to keep them; and the
dredger who can earn from six to ten shillings a day is
not likely to neglect his own work for the sake of a gain
of about fivepence-halfpenny.
Whelks as seen in London on a costermonger’s barrow
would, I think, only tempt a very hungry man, or one
whose appetite had a strange bias; yet these fish are a
favourite food among the fisher people, and, from the
fact that a man will often do a hard day’s work on nothing
else, they must needs be nourishing. Boiled the moment
they come out of the sea, and eaten hot with a sea-
appetite, they are certainly very good, and, inasmuch as
the intestine can be removed, are much safer and cleaner
eating than crabs or lobsters. There is a member of this
family, called the red whelk, which is very tasty but, ac-
cording to the fishermen, very disastrous in its effect on
the eater; they say that a plateful of such fish will make
a man absolutely intoxicated.
178
CHAPTER XV
THE FISHERIES OF THE FAR EAST
China, Japan, Siam, etc.—A fish-eating people—Fresh-water fishing—
Chinese angling—Fishing with the help of cormorants—How the
birds are trained—Good and bad divers—Two birds to one fish—
The dip-net—River-fishing by hand—Sea fisheries ; the junk and
the lorcha—A Portuguese colony—“ Archers ” and ‘‘ fighting-fish ”
—Japan’s fisheries—The salmon and trout.
NDER the above heading we may include the
LJ fisheries of China and Japan, together with those
of Siam, Annam, and Malacca.
It may not be easy for us Kuropeans to realise that the
inhabitants of these countries are even more a fishing
people than ourselves. Nevertheless they are. The fact
could doubtless be demonstrated and explained in scores
of different ways; but it is sufficient for us to remember
that (1) the people of the Far East are, as a whole, of
a somewhat timid disposition, and consequently less in-
clined to take to hunting than the men of the West; (2)
for the most part their climate is against the consump-
tion of much flesh meat; and, in any case, a large pro-
portion of the inhabitants would abstain from it on
religious grounds. Hence a disposition to live on vege-
table produce ; and to eke out or savourise such diet with
fish would surely be instinct to a seaboard people. Japan
179
THE FISHERIES OF THE FAR EAST
is surrounded by water; Malacca and Corea nearly so;
China, Siam, and Annam are washed by the sea as well
as drained by huge, fish-teeming rivers; and the inhabi-
tants of the three last-named have, for centuries, cultivated
the art of fresh-water fishing to an infinitely greater
extent than can be seen in any other part of the world.
Fish is cheap, moreover, and Easterns are economically
inclined. Next to rice, therefore, fish must be regarded
as the staple food of these temperate folk, and the pro-
curing of it as one of their most important occupations.
Fresh-water fishing as carried on by the Chinese is
anything but a laborious industry; on the other hand
it offers ample opportunity for meditation and rest ; and,
as a large proportion of the population spend their lives
on the water, they have not far to look for their dinner.
The approved Celestial method of angling has its
peculiarities. ‘The fisherman provides himself with two
or more slender bamboo rods, each of which is supplied
with rings for the line to pass through, such as our own
rods have, and also with a homely attempt at a winch.
His lines would make a British angler envious; they are
of the finest silk, deftly twisted, and scarcely thicker than
a hair; yet of wonderful strength and durability. His
hooks are not so likely to be coveted by Europeans, for
they are of the bent-pin order, being destitute of barbs.
Each line has a short bit of wood tied on to it in place
of a float, fastened only by one end, so that it will merely
lie on the water instead of standing perpendicularly.
Seated on his raft, or on the bank, the Chinaman very
methodically prepares for his morning’s work. With the
180
THE FISHERIES OF THE FAR EAST
point of one of the rods he first carefully separates the
weeds and leaves on the surface of the water, and brushes
aside, or flicks off, the heads of lotos that may be in his
way. As soon as he sees a clear field, in goes his first
hook, baited with a fly; or, if ground-fishing, probably
_ with a strip of kid or morsel of paste. ‘Then he places
the butt of the rod in a holder ready prepared and pro-
ceeds to make his second cast. This holder is a short
length of bamboo, the hollow of which will just fit the
end of the fishing-rod ; and is driven into the bank, or
lashed to the side of the raft, so that it will keep the rod
at an angle of about thirty degrees to the water.
But how this casual individual ever succeeds in catching
anything at all is one of the hidden things. Apparently
he is asleep half his time; we do not see him make any
attempt at watching bait or float, or at playing his fish ;
yet he seldom pulls up the line without there being a fish |
at the end of it. Above all, as often as not it is a dace;
and anglers do not need to be told that this is an
exceedingly sharp biter which requires to be struck
immediately.
Each time John takes a fish off the hook he stoops and
seems to put it back into the water at his feet. But if
you watch him when he leaves off work you will see him
drag out a large bamboo basket that has been kept in
the water with only the rim showing above the surface.
As the basket comes up, the water naturaily is drained off,
and the Chinaman has fresh fish for sale or private con-
sumption, instead of flabby things that have been exposed
to several hours of scorching sun.
181
THE FISHERIES OF THE FAR EAST
A more characteristic and better-known system of
fishing among the Mongols is with the aid of cormorants.
Anyone who has ever taken the trouble to watch one of
these curious birds dive must see that they are capable
of being made splendid allies to the fisherman ; and the
Mongolian peoples have succeeded in taming and training
the creatures till they can be relied upon to fill their
master’s bag in a very short space of time, Early in the
seventeenth century an attempt was made to introduce
cormorant-fishing into England as a sport, but it does
not seem to have met with much success.
When the bird is quite young a ring, or a collar of
grass, is fastened round its neck, so tightly that, though
it can still breathe, it can only swallow a very small
article. A cord, or sometimes a pair of reins, is attached
to the collar and, with much coaxing or smacking, the
master sends the little one into the water. Ordinarily its
instinct will prompt it to dive and to seize in its bill as
large a fish as it can lift; and as soon as it comes to the
surface it is smartly hauled in, informed that it is a good
bird, and made to deliver up its prey. As it progresses
in knowledge the cord is dispensed with; and the bird,
still tightly collared, has to learn to enter and leave the
water at a sign of the hand; and when its education is
complete, the collar is sometimes removed as well, by
which time no well-bred cormorant would think of
swallowing a fish unless its master had given permission.
The cormorant is usually started from a boat, or a
moored raft, a long, low-lying construction made of the
eternal bamboo, and propelled by one paddle. Each
182
See.
Ciera We A
London and New York
Stereo Copyright, Underwood & U.
FISHING WITH CORMORANTS IN CHINA
A characteristic method of fishing among the Mongols is with the aid of cormorants.
These birds are capable of being made splendid allies to the fishermen, who have tamed
and trained them till they can be relied upon to fill their master’s bag in a very short
time.
THE FISHERIES OF THE FAR EAST
fisherman has about half a dozen birds—among them,
perhaps, a couple of “ apprentices”—and these have all
arranged themselves in a row at one end of the raft with
their eyes solemnly fixed on their master. With a wave
of the hand or a snap of the fingers, he summons the
first ; it waddles up to him and jumps on to his open
hand. Petting it and gently smoothing its feathers, the
fisherman seems to whisper confidentially to the bird;
then places it on the edge of the raft and stands by to
await developments.
Then the cormorant dips its bill into the water once or
twice, jerks its head from side to side, gives a shake to its
tail, and suddenly disappears. Meanwhile the other birds,
huddled together in a perfectly straight line, look on, ex-
pectant of a summons from their master. After an inter-
val of about a quarter of a minute the diver reappears at
some distance from where it went in, holding in its mouth
a struggling fish of the dace or roach tribes. It swims
over to the raft, springs aboard, hops lightly on to the
fisherman’s knee, and is relieved of its burden; and the
master, having placed the fish in the basket, goes through
the same endearments as before, and again puts the bird
on the raft-edge. The same thing happens again, and
perhaps three or four times over, till, thinking the bird
has done enough, the fisherman once more caresses it and
deposits it in the middle of the raft; this is a sign that
the faithful creature may take a rest; and, full of pride
at its exploits, it struts away to the opposite side, where
it takes up a position on the rail and stares superciliously
at its friends that are still waiting their turn.
183
THE FISHERIES OF THE FAR EAST
Bird Number 2 is beckoned ; affecting ceremony as
before ; but, when its head comes above water, its bill is
still empty and it looks hesitatingly towards the raft,
though not daring to approach it without leave. The
master shakes his head reproachfully and points down-
wards, and the bird dives resignedly. This time it is
down longer, yet once more comes up empty-mouthed ;
but the fisherman is inexorable and the cormorant is
bidden to dive a third time—and a third time comes up
_with nothing. Celestial patience cannot brook this;
clearly bird Number 2 is a duffer; the man beckons it
out of the water, spanks it soundly about the head, and
tosses it on to the deck, whence it waddles shamefacedly
away and takes a place of dishonour at the end of the
rank.
Bird Number 3 obeys the call in a sprightly fashion
and dives the moment it is released, without any useless
preliminaries. It is down a whole minute or more.
Then, some thirty feet from the raft, the surface is seen
to bubble and ripple, and suddenly the little black head
rises above water; bird Number 3 has caught some kind
of salmon, over a foot long, and so heavy that every now
and then it drags the plucky head under again. The
fisherman mutters a cheering word and snaps his fingers
in the direction of bird Number 4, which is started off
in the usual manner. 4, however, does not dive; it
swims straight at 3 and, seizing the river-monster near
the tail, sets 3’s mind and bill at rest ; and the industrious
pair paddle steadily for the raft, supporting the weight
between them. Even now there is a danger lest the fish
184
THE FISHERIES OF THE FAR EAST
should escape, to which the fisherman puts an end by
leaning over as soon as the birds come within reach and
relieving them of their burden.
When it is the turn of the “apprentices” to go in, the
procedure is different. Probably the cord is fastened on,
and the bird is driven in by dint of much clapping of
hands on the part of the fisherman. Then, perhaps,
instead of diving, the cormorant will merely stare round
in bewildered fashion till the master, with a long rod,
guides it away from the boat, and, if it still remain
obstinate, plunges it bodily under with the end of the
stick. Some men, in addition to bridling the young
birds, fasten a cord round the body, leaving a loop like a
kettle-handle at the top to serve the purpose of lifting
the creature in and out.
When this species of fishing is carried on by night, a
brazier or a lighted torch is fixed at one end of the raft,
where it not only enables the fisherman to see what he is
doing, but also acts as a bait, appealing to the everlast-
ing curiosity of the fish which rise “to worship the
delusive flame,” as Shelley expresses it. ’
A third variety of bank and raft fishing is by means of
a very large dip-net, made of twine or spruce-fibre. The
gear, weighted with stones, is lowered by a single rope
which runs out over the head of a wooden lever and is
left down for an hour or so; at the end of that time the
lever is weighed up till the mouth of the net comes just
above water, then the fishermen, armed with small
landing-nets fitted to long handles, proceed at leisure to
bale out the contents.
185
THE FISHERIES OF THE FAR EAST
Yet another way, the most primitive of all, is by catch-
ing the fish with the hands—a practice easily possible in
shallow streams and pools that are literally alive with
fish. The operator wades in hip-deep, and this at once
stirs up the fish that are on the bottom, which is just the
reverse of what the wader wants; and, as a counterblast,
he slaps and splashes the water till they go down again
and hide in the mud; whereupon, using his feet as feelers,
he coolly stoops and picks the fish out of it, filling the
bag that hangs on his shoulder in a very few minutes.
There are few specially noteworthy features of the
Chinese salt-water fisheries. All the way down the coast
of the Yellow and China Seas, fleets of junks manned by
Coolies, Chinamen, and Lascars, are to be seen daily;
they do not go far from land, partly because there is
little need, partly through centuries of habit of giving a
wide berth to Japanese and Malay pirates.
The junk, without doubt the oldest-fashioned craft in
the world, is a not unpicturesque, flat-bottomed vessel with
one sail, similar to our lug-sail in shape, but ribbed all the
way down with parallel cane yards, which apparently can
be used for reefing. Some of the more go-ahead boat-
builders have during the past century attempted to im-
prove on the junk by the construction of the lorcha, a
boat made after the European model, though still rigged
like the older vessel.
At and round Macao, on the Canton River, is a colony
of Portuguese, founded as far back as 1586, and similar
to that mentioned in Chapter X, in so far as many of its
186
THE FISHERIES OF THE FAR EAST
people are hereditary fishermen who have partially intro-
duced European methods of working, and have made
themselves the centre of the fishing-trade for many miles
round.
In the China Sea and parts of the Indian Ocean is a
remarkable little fish known as the “archer,”
ever it makes its appearance in the net it is jealously set
and when-
aside in a pot of water by some member of the crew. In
their idle moments the men will even angle for it when
they are sufficiently far from land. It is about seven
inches long and has a wide, ugly mouth, the lower jaw of
which is considerably longer than the upper; it feeds on
flies and insects and has an almost infallible means of
catching them. Swimming near the surface it watches for
the approach of its prey and, the moment this comes in
sight, squirts a jet of water straight at it; this manceuvre
brings the prize down to the surface, and all the archer
has to do is to swallow it. When such a fish is caught, it
is taken home and kept in a jar as a household play-
thing, its owner amusing himself by suspending a fly
on a string over the jar, for the entertainment of its
occupant.
In the rivers of Siam and Annam is a somewhat smaller
creature, though none the less remarkable; the “ fighting-
fish,” which is as carefully angled for and treasured as the
archer. When taken, it is preserved in a bowl and kept
for fighting. Two of them, let loose in a shallow tank,
will afford as much amusement as fighting-cocks gave to
our grandfathers; and, like them, the bystanders bet
heavily on the issue of the struggle. In Siam such fights
187
THE FISHERIES OF THE FAR EAST
are specially licensed by the Government, and seem to
prove a fruitful source of revenue.
Japan, more ready to follow Western nations than its
neighbours, takes her fisheries very much in earnest. 'The
European trawl-net is in use, as also the various forms of
seine, though we cannot expect to find anything answer-
ing to our notions of a smack; for the Japanese fishers
have no medium between the most up-to-date steam-
trawler and the old-fashioned junk. The latter is slightly
different in make and rig from the Chinese boat. It has
no bulwarks beyond a shallow plank; is built rather high,
and has immense storing accommodation below decks.
At the very top of the mast is a bamboo yard from
which hangs the sail, plain, oblong, divided from top to
bottom, and so long that it almost sweeps the deck.
Another very common fishing-boat of native build,
though latterly of European rig, is the sampan.
The maguro, a large, salmon-fleshed fish, the cod,
mackerel, and a variety of sea-bream called the tai, are
the commoner fish taken in the nets; the last-named is
more often eaten raw than cooked, and either way it is
very appetising. I once saw the tai served up raw,
sprinkled with vinegar and herbs; and the very next
course was the same fish cooked,—-stewed in a sort of
soupe au vin.
The chief fishing ports are Hakodate, Nagasaki, and
Yokohama; in fact, till 1859, Yokohama had no other
occupation than fishing.
188
‘jauU puvy [jews eB jo
suvow Aq y9}e9 sty spue] pue ‘au ay} dn sx1af Ajsnoreyxep oy ‘sayseu ay} eAOqY aIv Ysy JsTOYJNs UaYAA “30U
OYl]-yoouurey Avurpsowzsjxs sty SuIaMo] st eH ‘wo; Id pester ay} uo pojeas uses oq Avw uvULIOYsYy 9Y J,
NVdv{ NI ONIHSIT
YAOX Marl piv uopuoTt "2D S poonrsapuy) ‘7YysriXgoD 094935
aa x
THE FISHERIES OF THE FAR EAST
The inshore fisheries include weirs of a sort, together
with a system of dip-nets not unlike those in use among
the Chinese river-fishers. ‘The fisherman erects a rough
scaffolding above the water, over which a thatched roof
is placed as a shelter from the sun; and from here he
lowers a huge, oblong net which is drawn into concave
form by cords, and kept open by a framework made of
two curved, intersecting poles. Connected with the
framework is a wooden lever, by means of which the
whole net can be quickly weighed out of the water.
As soon as the net is down, the fisherman waits
patiently till the fish collect over the spot where he has
lowered his tackle, and then suddenly jerks the edges of
the net above water; then, like the Chinaman, he ladles
his catch out with a smaller dip-net, hauls the fish up to
his platform, and packs them away in his basket.
But the Japanese are by no means mere stay-at-home
fishers; almost all the Corean coast-fishery is in their
hands, and sealing boats put off every season from
Hakodate for the Kurile Islands at the far north, and
even for Kamchatka. Moreover, the little country’s
exportation of fish-oil is steadily on the increase.
In their river-fishing, too, Western principles have
come largely into use, though the cormorant is still very
popular among the peasantry and the old-fashioned
native sportsmen. ‘Trout are found abundantly in all the
streams, and in the north, salmon are exceedingly plenti-
ful. In angling for the ai (a large kind of trout) and the
masu, or Japanese salmon, before the tackle is thrown,
the native fishermen catch a handful of small fry, some-
189
THE FISHERIES OF THE FAR EAST
thing like our young roach, in a landing-net, and fastening
a string to each, pull them up and down in the water to
attract the larger fish.
The Ishikari-gawa is the favourite salmon river, and
its reputation has now become so great as to cause both
English and American sportsmen to make periodical
pilgrimages to it.
190
CHAPTER XVI
SOME REMARKS ON THE IRISH
FISHERIES
Comparative poverty of the western fisheries—Possible reasons
—Present state of the Irish fisheries—The Irish fisherman—
Trawling and long-line fishing—Congers, sharks, and sea-cats
—Trawling on rocky ground—‘‘ Man overboard !”—Ling, halibut,
and ray—Eels—Tory Island.
there are doubtless good reasons to be found for the
fact that the western portions of the United Kingdom
cannot compare with those of the east for productive
fisheries. Where is the western fishing town that can
be mentioned in the same breath with Aberdeen, Grimsby,
Lowestoft, Yarmouth, or even Ramsgate? Yet the
Irish Sea, the Channels and the Atlantic generally are
surely as well adapted for the work as the German
Ocean; for if the rainfall be greater, the wind is just
as favourable to the smacks as it is on the east; often
| one had space and leisure to dive into the matter,
more so.
It is certainly not that the men of the east are neces-
sarily more careful over money-matters than the men of
the west; for much of the talk about the “thrifty
fisher-class” is so much foolish cant; with the exception
191
SOME REMARKS ON
of the Scotch, and of the Cornish and the Welsh—who,
by the way, are westerns—a more foolishly improvident
class than the fishermen scarcely exists, no matter which
point of the compass they come from; if a trawler earns
ten pounds in one week, the chances are that he will not
have a halfpenny by the end of the next. I am well
aware that there are exceptions, and that in every fishing
town there are generally one or two wealthy men who
have made every penny of their money in the boats.
What is much nearer being the reason is that the per-
centage of Danish, Saxon, and Jutish blood is far greater
in the east, and that for one western Rolf Ganger or
Ragna Rough-breeks, the east coast can produce twenty
Hengists, and Gorm Ethelstans and Herewards ; and that
therefore the inclination to a sea life is far stronger in
the Yorkshire man or the Norfolk man than it is in the
average Kelt. To this must be added the fact that the
power of steady work is sadly wanting in some of the
fishing people of the west; at any rate among the Irish,
Welsh, and Manx.
Five-and-twenty years ago the fisheries of Ireland were
apparently in an almost hopeless condition, but to-day
things are certainly on the mend. Much has been done.
Government has built piers and harbours, has made
grants or loans to the fishers, and, even as far back
as 1875, had begun to spend large sums in encouraging
the industry generally. If you ask an Irish fisherman
why trade is so bad he will tell you that the mackerel
have all gone away, and that the Scotch and Devon-
shire trawlers have broken up the herring shoals; but
192
THE IRISH FISHERIES
the Board of Trade reports say very differently; to
wit, that shoals of both herring and mackerel have becn
allowed to pass the coasts through the indolence of the
fishermen and the scarcity of nets; and that, till the
“foreion” trawlers came, soles, which often abound
round there, were never caught at all. Twenty years
ago lobsters and crabs could almost have been shovelled
on board the smacks round the west coast of Ireland,
and such may still be the case.
Out of a population of four and a half millions, twelve
thousand people are now engaged in fishing; the trade
is controlled by a Congested Board, and the coast is
divided up into centres, of which Dublin, Cork, Sligo,
and Galway are the chief.
Every imaginable form of craft may be seen in these
waters, cutters and luggers being the most popular; and
the crews include negroes, Welshmen, Englishmen, Manx-
men, and an occasional woman. The typical Hibernian
fisherman is not the same being on land as he is at sea.
Once persuade him to buckle to his work, once let him
get on board his smack, and his seamanship and his energy
would be a valuable object-lesson to some of the East
Coast men. He is not infrequently a bold romancer—
I have seldom met an Irish fisherman who had not, at
some period of his existence, caught a conger that had at
least ten other eels in its stomach, graduated and arranged
like the wooden puzzle eggs that the London hawkers
sell, one inside the other; and he will sometimes do
what the East Coast and Cornish fishers strongly set their
faces against, take beer or whisky on board; but, these
N 193
SOME REMARKS ON
peculiarities apart, he is a splendid fellow at sea, whose
unfailing courage and brilliant flashes of inspiration will
help him to steer round rocks and currents like the best
_ pilot that ever sailed out of harbour.
To see him at his best you want to watch him trawling
or line-fishing under an English or Scotch skipper whose
rule is “no beer on board.” Plaice, mullet, hake, sole,
turbot, these are what he is trawling for and, with a
good wind, what he will catch! If he is line-fishing he
wants ling and halibut and cod. Often one gear takes
fish that is expected in the other; turbot and brill will
sometimes swarm on the lines; or a couple of huge
congers will wriggle about in the trawl. The lines are
probably hand-lines; for not many Irish families would
give up a whole day or more to the baiting of a creel-
full of hooks.
I have never met the man who could truthfully say
that he liked conger-fishing ; if a conger should come up
in the trawl, nobody cares much how soon it worms its
way through a port-hole and out into the sea again, One
would almost as soon have a boa-constrictor for a fellow-
passenger; many a fisherman can show horrible scars
caused by the bite of one of these gentry. Fancy having
a thing that weighs nearly a hundredweight, is thicker
than a man’s arm, and more than eight feet long, going
about on deck seeking whom he may devour! They are
as savage and voracious as sharks, and do undoubtedly
devour their own brethren, though not in the orderly
manner quoted above. If they once get their teeth into
anything, even decapitation will not loose them, and the
194
THE IRISH FISHERIES
Irishman was no fandi fictor who said that he had seen
the jaws of a bodiless head prised open with a chisel and
pincers before the arm which they had bitten could be set
free.
The South Ireland conger-fishing is done by hand-lines,
with a pilchard or a small herring as bait. The fish are
caught at night, generally from luggers or rowing-boats,
and a knife is driven through their heads before they can
get into mischief.
The west and south coasts are only good in certain
places for trawling; here and there a beautiful sand-bed
will offer itself, where the trawl-heads can glide along as if
they were going over a ballroom floor. Then up come
the mullet and turbot and plaice as fast as you like, and
our Irishman rubs his hands as he reflects that at least a
fortnight’s immunity from work will accrue from to-day’s
catch. Sometimes a small mountain of plaice only is shot
out of the trawl; good, honest seven-pounders—a reason-
able weight for such fish, though they sometimes reach
fifteen pounds.
The reason why plaice appear more often in the trawl
than the majority of other fish, is because they are such
poor swimmers; they have no swimming-bladders, and
consequently keep pretty much along the bottom, where
they find their food—molluscs chiefly, and baby skate—
and so are swept in by the foot-rope of the trawl where
swifter fish would escape.
Another fish frequently taken in Irish waters is the
“ mackerel-guide,” more properly known as the gar-fish.
This is really a kind of salt-water pike, but it tastes
195
SOME REMARKS ON
wonderfully like mackerel; it has gained its nickname
on account of its being so frequently found at the head
of a shoal of mackerel that are coming into the shallows
to spawn.
Sometimes, among the heaving mass that is being
turned over and sorted, a broad sheet of light grey shows
itself, and a big tail pokes its way through a crowd of
smaller fry and lashes itself irritably up and down, thus
displaying dark stripes along the lower part of the body
to which it belongs. Every man instinctively snatches up
his knife or a bit of wood and prepares to defend himself.
“Tis a sea-cat; look out!” shouts everybody in one
breath ; and, as the spiteful monster raises its ugly head
and opens its mouth, a prudent fisherman salutes it with
a cut across the nose, or pins it down to the deck with a
knife-blade. This unlovely creature—sea-cat, cat-fish,
or wolf-fish—is a vicious beast, whose bite is “ten degrees
worse,” as the fishermen say, than a conger’s; at any rate
it is often more painful, and some even maintain that it
is poisonous. The fish is about six feet long, its flesh is
much prized by the poorer classes, and its skin is so
tough and durable that the Scotch and Irish fishers make
bags of it. It is exceedingly savage, and will snap at
anyone who goes near it.
The stranger on board an Irish smack need not be
astonished or alarmed at seeing an occasional monster
thirty feet long, lying on the water, or even inquisitively
shoving his muzzle over the taffrail.
“‘ An’ indeed it’s no shark at all; "tis a sun-fish, surr,”
the Irishman will tell him; generally adding a rider to
196
THE IRISH FISHERIES
the effect that it is more peaceable than any kitten. But
it is a shark all the same, let Patrick call it what he
likes; the basker, which, in warm weather, spends most
of its days lying almost on the water-surface as though
revelling in the sun’s rays. It is as strong as a whale,
but undoubtedly quite harmless, and no fisherman ever
takes any notice of it.
These western and southern beds are very treacherous
to the poor trawlers, and a skipper who does not know
every square yard of the bottom had better keep clear
of them. Sometimes, while on such a sand-bed as we
have just been peacefully drifting over, there will be a
sudden, violent jerk on the boat—the higher the wind the
more this will be perceived. Sometimes she will lie over
for a moment like a yacht tacking; the skipper springs
across to the helm and puts the boat about, shouting
directions to the crew and, if he be a humorist, which
most of these fellows are, observing that they have
“netted a rock.” In a fairly high wind the towlines
have been known to snap when this has taken place;
then, of course, all hope of saving the gear is at an end.
As it is, the smack must, if possible, get to the farther
side of the rock and tow the net backwards from under
it—an impossible feat if the wind chooses to be contrary ;
at best it will be something like trying to turn a hay-cart
in a narrow lane.
Then the trawl is winched up, and the extreme light-
ness of it tells a sorry tale; the net is certainly empty
or nearly so, and, as the beam is taken on board, it may
be seen that the net hangs straight and flat in the water
197
SOME REMARKS ON
like a limp rag. Impatiently the men snatch at it, in
a hurry to know the worst. Down in the “cod” of the
trawl are a few plaice and brill, but above it is a rent
four feet long, which has doubtless been caused by some
sharp rock when the foot-rope was jerked free from the
mass under which it had slid. ‘Then out come the net-
ting tools, and the busy crew hastily, yet neatly, repair
the damage, thanking the saints, meanwhile, that it is
no worse ; and once more the tackle is thrown over.
But all this turning about has thrown some of the men
off their guard, and, as the main-sail flies round, one of
them gets the boom full across his chest. For a second
his head is muffled in the swelling sail, and then, before
anyone knows what is happening, there is a splash,
followed by the shout, “Old Jack’s overboard !”
That “ man-overboard” cry is a far more awful sound
than italics or marks of exclamation can make it appear ;
I have heard it once and am not anxious to hear it again.
Sometimes even practised sailors seem for the moment
to be paralysed by it, although it is not absolutely an
uncommon occurrence in rough weather, or when another
smack comes along and steals the wind from your boat
so that your main-sail recoils suddenly.
One man “unships” his sea-boots and sou’-wester,
another stands by with a boat-hook, a third with a rope.
It is on these occasions that you realise that, however
bitter enemies men may be in everyday life, one is ready
enough to help another unhesitatingly when there is any
fear of death. But, in this case, there is no call for senti-
ment or sacrifice; a very soused-looking head comes above
198
THE IRISH FISHERIES
water, makes some unintelligible remarks, and then a
young fisherman leans over the bulwarks, grabs the
drenched man by the neck and shouts laughingly, “Tve
got the old chap!” and in a minute he is hauled on deck.
But such easy escapes are not necessarily the rule.
If the torn net cannot be repaired, or if the ground is
too hopelessly rocky to risk another shot with the trawl,
the men will sometimes make good their day’s work by
throwing in what lines they have on board, hastily baited
with the most likely fish they happen to have caught.
Line-fishing here is fairly lucrative, for it can be done
at almost any time; and in Ireland, as in other Catholic
countries, the demand for fish is very great—greater than
the trawlers alone could supply, even if they went off
more regularly ; and the huge halibut and ling that come
up on the hooks are easily gutted and salted. Ling are
not quite so common here as further north; the Hebrides,
and perhaps the Orkneys, are the best grounds; still, a
very large number may be taken by the Cork and Water-
ford men. “ Ling” is simply another form of the Dutch
or Saxon “lang,” and the name was applied to this fish
because it was regarded as merely a long hake; the
Germans still call it the “long fish.” It is of the same
family as the cod, and is from three to four feet long ; its
markings are rather pretty; the belly is silvery, and the
back anything from grey to olive-green ; all its fins are
tipped with white, and the tail has a black bar across it.
Halibut are a much larger fish, and weigh anything up
to three and even five hundred pounds, and sometimes
measure six feet from tip to tail. They are flat, ugly
199
SOME REMARKS ON
creatures, with teeth not only in their mouths but in
their throats, and having both their eyes on one side.
The Irish fishermen devote much of their line-fishing
time to rays and eels; the eels they sell, and the rays
either form their own food or are used by them as bait
for crabs and lobsters. Rays are better known to the
consumer as skate and, to the fishermen, as “roker”; they
may be seen on the fishmongers’ slabs almost any time
between July and April. It is said that there are no less
than eleven species of them round the Irish coast. They
are cartilaginous, like the shark or the sturgeon, and
their flesh is very popular among the poorer classes; for
some reason London and Dublin seem to consume as
much of this fish as all the fishing towns put together.
The Irishmen are only administering poetic justice
when they catch the ray as crab and lobster bait, for no
fish plays more havoc among the crustacea ; it will crunch
up a big crab, sometimes shell and all, with no trouble
whatever, and will lie in wait near the rocks on the
chance of a meal of lobster or shrimps. No fish requires
more careful handling, whether it comes up on a line or
in a trawl, for most species are armed along the back with
tough spines, and, in defending itself, the ray bends its
body in a bow and lets itself spring back with frightful
force, often causing very serious wounds with its spikes ;
‘‘ thorn-back ” is another name under which it is known
by the fishermen.
Eel-catching in both fresh and salt water is a popular
occupation among these fishermen; their tackle varies
with the neighbourhood and time of year. A most
200
THE IRISH FISHERIES
ghastly method is by means of “needle-tackle.” One or
two stout needles are buried in the body of a worm and
the line is tied round the whole; this is sunk with a stone
or plummet and is extraordinarily successful in working,
for eels are no less greedy than other fish, and, once the
bait is snapped up, the points are safe to lodge some-
where, so that the needles act as a fixed cross-bar, to
which the line is immovably fastened. This is for
summer fishing. In the rivers and lakes, night-lines are
also let down, but this is not regarded as a legitimate
form of fishing—at any rate by the gamekeepers.
At the approach of winter the eels either bury them-
selves in the mud or migrate to the estuaries like that of
the Shannon, or sometimes into the open sea. If they
stay in the mud they are soon “forked out” with an eel-
spear—an instrument with several prongs, which is fitted
to a long, slender handle; but if they reach the estuaries,
the taking of them ceases to be a sport and becomes an
industry. el-pots are laid down in series after the
fashion of the crab-pots, across the current, and are
cleared and rebaited every morning. The traps are very
ingeniously constructed; they are of wicker and shaped
like a narrow-mouthed gallipot; the funnel-like entrance
is made of springy, flexible sticks which radiate towards a
common centre—a hole as big round as a shilling. ‘The
eel has no difficulty in forcing its way through this open-
ing, for the springs bend back most obligingly; but they
shut to again after the fish has passed through, and he
has no sort of chance of ever getting out any more.
The Ulster fishermen are naturally very different from
201
REMARKS ON IRISH FISHERIES
the genuine Irishmen, most of them being of English
or Scotch descent; and they are far more thrifty and
business-like than the men whose country has adopted
them.
On Tory Island—an islet three miles long and less
than a mile broad, which lies about ten miles north-east
of the Bloody Foreland, there is a tiny colony of real
Irish fishers ; these are they who, it is reported, feed their
cattle on fish. They and the Donegal men who fish
between Lough Swilly and the Foreland, have an excep-
tionally dangerous ground upon which to work, for there,
apart from the awful, rocky reef that runs out from ‘Tory,
the Atlantic can be its roughest, so much so that often
no boat can pass from the island to the mainland for five
or six weeks at a time. The islanders are therefore
obliged to store their fish alive in salt-water reservoirs,
and perhaps it is from this fact that Irish fishermen have
been accused of tethering valuable fish like soles and
turbots by the tail, and letting them swim about till the
steam-carrier comes to fetch them.
202
CHAPTER XVII
SOME STRANGE FISH AND STRANGE
FISHERMEN
Decay of primitive methods—South American fisheries —The ara-
paima—Harpoons and tethered arrows—The armado—Catching
fish on land—The diodon—Fishing in Tierra del Fuego—African
river-fishing-—-The Indian mango-fish—The modern Galilean fisher-
man—South Sea Island fish—Proas and Hawaiian “ outriggers ”
—Australian and Arctic fishing.
EFORE quitting the subject of fish proper, we
ought to take a glance at a few of those distant
fisheries that cannot well be classed under any of
the foregoing heads. Colonisation by Europeans has
necessarily swept away many of the primitive methods
and appliances with which the native fishermen of Poly-
nesia, the East Indies, Africa, and America were wont to
astonish the travellers of a bygone age; but the fish are
still there—many of them very curious and interesting—
and some of the old ways of catching them still prevail.
It is only among civilised or quasi-civilised nations that
amuch deep-sea fishing is to be found. Work of that sort
implies the use of strongly built vessels such as few savage
races would have the means of constructing, as well as a
far more profound knowledge of seamanship than could be
expected among a barbarian people. Enlightened as the
203
SOME STRANGE FISH
ancient Egyptians were, even they had a horror of the
sea, and usually confined their skill and energy in boat-
building to making only such craft as would be used on
the Nile. The American Indian who glides along the river,
or fishes at his ease, in his frail birch canoe, regardless of
deep water and alligators, is terrified at the sight of a
heavy sea, and in many cases would not let himself be
persuaded that fish can live amid such tempestuous sur-
roundings.
Still, there are exceptions. Up till quite a few years
ago the coast Indians of Peru would accomplish long and
dangerous sea voyages in their balzas, which were little
better than pointed rafts with a lug-sail, bringing back a
cargo of fish which they had caught with hook and line
and dried in the sun. Many of the Polynesians have also
proved themselves successful deep-sea fishers, while the
natives of Madagascar and Malay, if they did not trouble
about fishing themselves, had no objection to pursuing
into deep water, and molesting, anyone else who did.
Another exception must of course be made where the
pearl-fishers of the East and West Indies are concerned.
But those who neglect the greater depths have gener-
ally very remunerative coast fisheries, and, not infre-
quently, large rivers and lakes on which to expend their
energies. In China, for instance, there are more river
fishers than all the sea fishers in Europe and America
together; while the great rivers of South America and
Africa make a fishing people of races that have never
been within hundreds of miles of the sea.
In some of the South American rivers there is a fish—
204
AND STRANGE FISHERMEN
the arapaima, a gigantic fresh-water herring—the hunting
of which has been both a sport and an industry among
the inhabitants of Brazil and Guiana for centuries. As
the average weight of these monsters is about three
hundredweight—some have been taken weighing four
hundred pounds and measuring fifteen feet in length—it
will be seen that arapaima hunting is not child’s play.
The catching is done by hook and line, by tethered arrows
and by harpoons, angling being only employed for night
work. ‘The line, a sort of slender lasso, carries a heavily
weighted hook baited with some small fish, and is lowered
from a canoe which it is almost useless to moor, on account
of the immense towing powers of the fish. If the angler
is wise, as soon as the creature is pulled near enough, he
puts an end to its struggles with a spear.
Sundown or sunrise is the time for spearing. A boat
pulled by half a dozen Indians or Zambos paddles gently
up stream, everyone observing perfect silence, two or
three fishermen crouching in the bow and watching keenly
for a first sight of the largest fresh-water fish in the
world. Suddenly a head splashes half above water and
goes down again. Instantly one of the watchers snaps
his fingers, at which the rowers rest on their paddles and
every one waits breathlessly. ‘The same thing happens
again, the head, or perhaps just the nose of the fish
appearing above the surface and vanishing again before
aim can be taken.
Presently a loud splash is heard some distance astern of
the boat, as, with a clumsy imitation of its sea relative,
the tarpon, the giant essays a half-spring out of the water.
205
SOME STRANGE FISH
But the men take no further notice of him now; they
know that they have lost him in any case, for the fish are
all travelling down stream. Judging, however, from the
number of ripples ahead, he is no great loss, for there are
plenty more like him to come. At last a broad silver
belly rises a good five feet. Evidently this is a monster,
for, some distance beyond, the water is being threshed into
a tiny whirlpool by his great forked tail. Before the
arapaima can sink again, a harpoon whirls through the air
trailing behind it a long leathern cord, the other end of
which is made fast to the boat. For an instant it seems
as though boat and crew would be dragged under, as the
fish gives one convulsive plunge; but the spear was too
well or too luckily aimed; it has bedded itself in the
upper part of the chest, and that sudden, jerking plunge
was the arapaima’s last movement; all that remains to be
done is to drag the dead body aboard.
But there are times when the shot is not so opportune ;
often the fish with three and even four harpoons bristling in
its back or sides, will plunge, kick, and dodge, till there
is every likelihood of the little vessel’s capsizing, and
leaving her crew at the mercy of the sleepy-looking
alligators, that are innocently watching the sport from
the muddy bank.
The tethered arrow, formerly more commonly used than
the harpoon in arapaima fishing, is almost identical with
the Indian turtle-spear. The head is movable, being
lightly fixed in a socket at the end of the shaft; when
the point strikes an object, the shaft is shaken free,
though still in connection with the point by means of a
206
AND STRANGE FISHERMEN
long coil of stout cord or thong which has been neatly
wound round the arrow. The coil rapidly unrolls itself,
leaving the shaft on the surface as a sort of float, and all
the fishermen have to do is to paddle up and seize this ;
then to draw the refractory giant to the top, as a further
mark for their bows and arrows.
When caught, the fish is either cut up into steaks and
sold slightly salted, or is dried and packed for transport to
the large towns, or for export. The flesh is said to be
excellent.
The South American rivers and pools have almost
a monopoly of the curiosities among fresh-water fishes.
In the Parana is another giant, called by the Gauchos the
armado ; shorter though thicker than the arapaima, and
much prized for its delicate flavour. ‘The Gauchos angle
for it with hand-lines, and hooks baited with cray-fish or
meat. Two men in a canoe can work four lines—they
could work forty if the craft were large enough to stand
the strain; the upper end of the line is tied to the boat,
and the men stand straddle-legged to guard against
sudden lunges. These do not always come; often the fish
swallows the hook, and lies on the bottom, scarcely moving,
and only kicking when hauling-in time comes.
Then how does the fisherman know when he has got a
bite? The armado sees to all that; for, the moment he
is hooked, he sets up a rattling, grating noise that can be
clearly heard even when he is at the bottom, and, if near
the surface, is audible from several yards away. And,
moreover, he is not always content to lie in the mud and
groan, He has a trick sometimes of seizing the line with
207
SOME STRANGE FISH
the spine of his back or breast-fin, and either snapping it
or doing his best to capsize the boat. So powerful are the
fins, in fact, that he will seize the blade of a paddle with
one of them and jerk it out of an unwary hand in an instant.
Another member of his tribe (silwridae), the largest
fresh-water fish in Europe, is found in the Elbe and
Danube, under various local names, measuring eight feet
long and weighing about three hundredweight.
Further varieties of the same family are also found
in other South American rivers, the best known of which
is called by zoologists the calhichthys ; it is covered from
end to end with rows of small scaly plates, and on the
head is a kind of bony helmet. Not only does it make a
regular nest in the mud, wherein it deposits its eggs, but,
if the stream or pool in which it lives dries up in the hot
weather, it will make a considerable land journey to some
other piece of water ; and it is on these journeys that it is
generally lain in wait for and speared by the Indians.
One more member of this genus, common in the Essequibo,
the most highly prized of all as a table delicacy, is the
“ broad-mouth ” (platystoma), the most beautifully marked
of any; the skin is a pale blue, and across the back are
alternate stripes of black and white; from their flat
snouts and wide jaws, which they are in the habit of
poking above the surface, they may easily be mistaken at
first sight for alligators.
Alligators, by the way, are not the only foes to river
fishers here. In the streams of Paraguay are enormous
water-serpents which have been known to upset a light
canoe and drag one of the occupants under water.
208
AND STRANGE FISHERMEN
British and Dutch residents in Guiana had at one time
ample sport in fishing the Essequibo for the dawalla, a
scaleless fish, brilliantly marked with green, brown, and
crimson, two and a half feet long, with a head like our
jack ; but, as it has been hooked without mercy for the
sake of its delicate flavour, to catch one nowadays is
something for the sportsman to boast about.
The coast fisheries of South America have, except in
the far south, ceased to offer anything particularly strik-
ing or unusual; the seine, worked from the shore or from
small boats, is the most commonly used net. In it are
taken eels of various sorts, mackerel, a species of herring,
and an occasional sun-fish, globe-fish, sea-porcupine, or
diodon, as it is variously termed—the most innocent of
creatures if left alone, and one of the most formidable to
interfere with, for it will bite like any wolf, and the
fishermen, though they are anxious enough to secure it,
for it commands a good price as a curiosity, allow it to
die in peace before attempting to carry it away. It is
about two feet long, very bulky and flabby, and has the
power of inflating itself till it is almost globular, when its
whole surface is seen to be covered with short spines. In
this blown-out condition it is incapable of swimming, but
comes to the surface lying on its back, and allows itself
to be carried along by the tide. Sometimes while in this
position it will shoot a jet of water some considerable
distance, at the same time making a curious grating
noise with its mouth. Sometimes a misguided shark will
elect to swallow a diodon, and in doing so inadvertently
commits suicide; for in nine cases out of ten the smaller
fo) 209
SOME STRANGE FISH
fish “goes down” whole and living, and at once proceeds
to bite a way out for itself through the stomach, ribs, and
skin of the shark.
Its under-skin secretes a beautiful red dye, which was
once much prized by the Indians of Brazil. The fish is
also found in the Indian and Pacific oceans.
South American fishermen keep careful watch in the —
pools at low tide for the hideous octopus or cuttle-fish,
which scarcely calls for a description, as everyone has
seen it in pictures or aquaria. Sailors and novelists tell
us horrible things about the misdeeds of the creature,
though many naturalists regard it as more or less harm-
less. ‘To the fisherman it is rather a “ find,” both for the
sake of the valuable black pigment which it secretes and
also for its calcareous “shield,” commonly known as the
cuttle-fish bone, which is reduced to powder and used as a
metal-burnisher. 'The small northern variety, called the
flying-squid, which the cod-fishers use as bait, has the
power of leaping to a height of fifteen or twenty feet
above the water.
The savages of Tierra del Fuego subsist almost entirely
on fish, blubber, and seaweed. Here we must talk about
fish-wives, for it is the women who do almost all the fish-
ing, though the men sometimes paddle the canoes from
which much of the work is done. Generally speaking,
the women catch fish while the men gather molluscs from
the rocks, or drift about in their canoes on the chance of
finding a dead whale or seal. ‘The women’s lines consist,
as often as not, of lengths of their own hair braided and
joined ; some few use a fish-bone hook, but most of them
210
‘you-ysnd duitiys paypuvy-Suo] Area ev 9x1] Suryjeuos pedeys pue
yueq 24} WoIZ paxIOM 193}¥] 2Y}—s}ou-dip puv sour] Aq ‘syorreyg ey) JO SAep 9y} UT SEA 41 Se UO perIIed sI Surysy ‘IN ey) UT
<
ATIN FHL NO ONIHSIY
Bees tek va
Boo
AND STRANGE FISHERMEN
none at all: the body of a good-sized shell-fish is tied to
the end of the line, and the woman, sitting in her canoe,
waits till some fish is choked by the bulky bait, and then
draws up. When not engaged thus, these primitive fish-
wives are occupied in diving for shell-fish and sea-eggs ;
this they do without any such mechanical appliances as
ropes or weights, springing into one or two-fathom water
from the rocks just as we might dive from a boat or
spring-board, Some of the more energetic of the men
practise fish-spearing, pulling out to a depth of a few
fathoms, and “jabbing” at the fish as they appear, with a
one-barbed spear ; but this is an operation which requires
more judgment than the poor Fuegians possess, as any-
one is aware who has ever aimed at even a stationary
object that is under water.
Passing on to the African continent, we see very much
the same state of things as in America—sea-fisheries
mainly under direct or indirect European influence, the
natives attaching more importance to the rivers and
lakes. In the Nile, fishing is carried on almost as it was
in the days of the Pharaohs, by lines and dip-nets, the
latter worked from the bank, and shaped something like a
very long-handled shrimp push-net, or by groping in the
mud as the waters recede after the floods. A very popu-
lar fish that is taken in the latter way is the bichir, which
is about eighteen inches long, and is covered with hard,
bony scales. In the same manner the Arabs of the Upper
Nile catch what they call the “ thunder-fish,” which aver-
ages a foot in length and, like that of the Calabar River
in the west, is endowed with considerable power of
2z1
SOME STRANGE FISH
developing electricity. A large kind of barbel named the
binny, also found in the mud, is greatly prized by the
Nile dwellers, though to English palates it would be
tasteless.
In less civilised parts of the continent—on the Gambia
River, for example—we find fish-spearing as mentioned
above, as well as mud-searching. ‘The West African
Negroes are very fond of the “ mud-eel,” which, according
to some naturalists, ought to be classed as a reptile on
account of its foot-like fins. When the floods subside,
thousands of these are left high and dry, and promptly
bury themselves in the mud, which soon becomes hard
and earthy, and here they would remain till the next
inundation if the Negroes did not come along with wooden
forks and dig them out.
The inhabitants of the Congo Free State use fish-spears,
as well as long metal hooks, which they hold in their
hands. The people of Madagascar are more advanced,
and have for centuries known the art of making hempen
nets and barbed hooks.
In the Indian Ocean is another curiosity called the
‘“‘ drum-fish,” which the island fishermen of the Seychelles,
Amirantes, etc. often take with hand-lines, and which is
highly esteemed as an article of food; it has earned its
name from its habit of making a booming noise when
pursuing or pursued ; in size and taste it is not unlike cod.
The fisheries of India scarcely differ from those of
China, the only deep-sea work done by the natives being
practically confined to the pearl-oyster. But a river fish
greatly sought after by native anglers is the tupsee or
212
AND STRANGE FISHERMEN
bartah, known by Europeans as the mango-fish, from its
yellowish colour. It is not unlike our perch, and always
commands a high price, partly on account of its tooth-
someness, but especially because its air-bladder yields
isinglass. Several allied fish are found in the hotter parts
of America and Africa.
In the Ceylon rivers, too, we find the peasantry still
clinging to the wading method, almost identical with that
practised by the Chinese; the fisherman finding his catch
with his bare feet.
The use of weirs or garths has been introduced into the
Andaman Islands; at Port Blair, the great convict
settlement, the prisoners erect across the mouths of the
creeks similar wooden traps to those mentioned in
Chapter X ; they are not a fixture, but are periodically
moved from creek to creek, because after a time the fish
grow wary and avoid the spot where they have seen their
friends disappear. The scir-fish, a kind of salmon, is
caught in this way. Here deep-sea fishing is almost out
of the question by reason of the strong current and heavy
seas.
We cannot leave the subject of Asiatic fisheries without
a word or two about that carried on in the Holy Land.
The modern Palestine traveller tells us that we should
now look in vain for boats “launching out into the
deep,” and working nets all night in the Sea of Galilee.
Not that the fish have disappeared; they are to be caught
there in millions, as also in the Jordan and the Jabbock ;
but the Arabs, less accustomed to systematic work than
the Jews of old, follow easier plans—the simplest and
213
SOME STRANGE FISH
most disgusting of which is throwing poisoned bits of
meal-cake into the water, and then wading in to make a
collection ; “a custom which sure no other nation is like
to rob them of!”
Another way of going to work is by pelting the fish
with stones, which can be done very profitably where the
shoals of yellow musht congregate. Some of the Bedawin,
probably taking example by travellers, fire charges of
small shot among them, and so get a bag; so thick are —
these shoals that it is even said that a revolver bullet has
been known to kill three fish. Hook and line may be
found very occasionally, but, as a rule, where the practices
mentioned above are not resorted to, the fishing is done
by small dip-nets or large hand-nets ; in the former case,
the fishers, standing on the rocks, lower a kind of bird-net
which can be closed by the pulling of a rope, from rocks
or wooden platforms, and haul up at intervals of an hour
or so. Where the hand-net is in use—it is a kind of
cross between a butterfly- and shrimp-net—the fisherman
wades in up to his waist with a bag on his shoulder, and
is content to catch the fish one or two at a time.’ The
fish of the Syrian waters are of many different species, but
few are peculiar to the country.
Going farther afield to the more distant islands—and
probably meeting en route the sea-serpent, which is one of
the ribbon-fish tribe frequenting very deep water and
measuring from fifteen feet—we come across other flying-
fish than those mentioned in an earlier chapter. ‘The
flying gurnard, for instance, which, in addition to possess-
ing the power to take long leaps, can support itself in
214
A SpIDER’s WEB AS A FIsHING-NET: A STRANGE
NEw GUINEA DEVICE
A very huge and strong spider’s web, common to New
Guinea, is used by the natives as a fishing-net. ‘They set up
in the forest a bamboo, bent as in the picture, and leave it
und the spiders have covered it with a web in the manner
shown.
AND STRANGE FISHERMEN
mid-air for a minute or so by means of its long breast-
fins. ‘This the inhabitants of the South Seas shoot with
arrows and eat. Another delicacy among these islanders
is the palolo, a slender marine animal three inches long,
whose body is divided into joints, each of which is supplied
with a pair of gills; the natives gather these in great
numbers from the coral reefs, and bake them wrapped in
the leaves of the bread-fruit tree.
One of the most extraordinary nets to be found in the
whole world is that used on the New Guinea coast ; a net
of Nature’s own providing. A local spider is in the habit
of weaving a web about six feet in diameter, the meshes
of which are so tough that they will not only resist con-
siderable water-pressure, but will easily stand the weight
of a one-pound fish. The canny natives cut long bamboo
poles, bend the ends into a loop, and leave them all day in
the forest where the spiders are most plentiful ; when they
return they find that the industrious creature has con-
verted each bamboo into a sort of gigantic tennis-racquet
or lacrosse-bat, and with this the fisherman retires to the
nearest stream or back-water and whips out the fish singly
as they rise.
The Sandwich islanders and the people of the Ladrones
are exceptional as savage fishermen, having no fear of
fairly deep water. The latter think nothing of going
fishing in thirteen fathoms in canoes which British fisher-
men would laugh or shudder at; light-built proas, but
rigged with one sail, in the construction of which their
ancestors most likely copied the Malay pirates. The boat
which the Hawaiians use for fishing and porpoise-hunt-
215
SOME STRANGE FISH
ing is very long and very narrow, pointed, and curved
upwards at either end, and capable of holding five or
six men. By an ingenious system of “outrigger” the
terrific surf is rendered almost powerless to upset this
craft ; for standing out from one side of the boat are two
light poles, across the ends of which is lashed a beam
similar in shape and length to the boat’s keel, so that at a
distance, you might think you saw two boats fixed parallel
to each other. The outrigger forms a stay to the boat
on the side whereon it is fixed, and the other side is
equally supported because only a very great strain could
possibly weigh up such a contrivance. The paddling is done
from the stern, and fishing begins as soon as the little
vessel is clear of the reefs; and in a very few hours she has
as many fish as she can hold. The catch is taken ashore
alive in pots and skin buckets, and disposed of at the
public market, many of the islanders consuming it not
only uncooked but still living.
The Australian fisheries have developed remarkably
during the last half-century, apart even from the whaling
and pearl-fishing, huge fleets being engaged in turtle-,
dugong- and oyster-fishing ; more than a hundred species
of edible fish are trawled for off the coast of New South
Wales alone. The few remaining coast aborigines live on
the coarse-fleshed sting-rays which are thrown up living
and dead by the tide; and on such other fish as they can
catch on the barbed bone points of their spears. The
Kanakas of the Melanesian Islands are skilful in the
building of canoes, but, as with the Fuegians, the women
do the fishing, while the men eat each other.
216
ESKIMOS SPEARING FISH
They wait patiently at a hole in the ice until a fish comes near the surface,
and then strike.
‘De ee
7 tie neg
Beh
AE
af
AND STRANGE FISHERMEN
It is necessary to add a few lines concerning other
Arctic fisheries than those which we shall presently touch
upon. There is not much to be said. The Eskimos would
be willing enough to catch the fish, but there are so few
to be caught; the cottus, a spiny-headed creature which
British fishermen call the “ Father Lasher,” with a small
kind of cod, the Arctic shark, the salmon, and the mysis
or opossum-shrimp, are almost the only fish that will
venture so far north. In,winter time the Eskimo makes
a hole in the ice when possible and, with his bone-headed
spear or barbed fork, patiently sticks such fish as come
near the surface ; in summer he goes in his canoe or kayak
—which he has cleverly made from what odd bits of wood
he can scrape together, and covered with skin—and, with
a line made of sinew and a fish-bone hook, angles for
whatever he may be lucky enough to catch.
CHAPTER XVIII
PEARLS AND PEARL-DIVING
How pearls grow—Loose and fixed pearls—The fish that contain
them—The Ceylon Banks—Native divers—The pearl fleet—Scene
in the Gulf of Manaar—A noisy crew—The ‘“‘ shifts ”—Method of
lowering—Sharks—A curious superstition —Landing and piling the
oysters—How they open—Varieties of pearls—Other grounds—
Dredging for pearl-shells—The argentine.
HAT is pearl? Put briefly, it is the result of
layer upon layer of carbonate of lime being
wrapped round a tiny nucleus that lies hidden
within some shell-bearing mollusc.
Most shell-fish are provided with a secretion wherewith
to line their homes, making the otherwise harsh shell a
smooth and comfortable refuge for the tender body that
lies within it; and this secretion, which, in its hardened
form, we know as nacre or mother-of-pearl, is spread by
the fish in very thin translucent films, the outer one of
which consequently acquires an opaline or iridescent sur-
face. When the shell is thus lined, its tenant has still
good store of the secretion left, and this it devotes to
covering any small particle that has no business within
the valves; for shell-fish, though their nervous system be,
in most respects, very elementary, are exceedingly sen-
sitive to tickling or scratching.
218
PEARLS AND PEARL-DIVING
A grain of sand will sometimes work its way between
the body and one of the valves, thereby causing an
irritation which the mollusc at once proceeds to check
by gradually covering the intruder with carbonate of
lime films, one upon another like the coats of an onion,
till it is as smooth and polished as the inside of the shell
itself. Again, when a dog-whelk or other boring animal
that preys on oysters has succeeded in drilling a hole
through the shell from the outside, the little creature
within will sometimes plug up the aperture with its
secretion and laboriously spread layers over the nucleus
thus formed. The result in either of these cases is that
a pearl will be found adhering to one of the shells.
The more valuable pearls, however, are found loose
inside the mantle of the mollusc, or at least slightly
connected with it; and these have a somewhat different
origin. It often happens that one of the ova is lifeless,
and, not being thrown out with the rest at spawning
time, gradually increases in size, because, though infertile,
it is still supplied with blood-vessels from the parent
body; then hardens and becomes an even greater source
of irritation than any foreign object would be—till it has
been “insulated” with nacre and made a pearl of. These
will be the globular and pear-shaped pearls—pear-shaped,
because at times the connecting link or pedicle between
the egg and the body is also covered with the films. One
of the latter sort has been taken weighing 3?0z. troy,
2in. long and 4 in circumference. I believe it is still to
be seen at the South Kensington Museum.
‘Any shell-bearing mollusc may contain pearls, though
219
PEARLS AND PEARL-DIVING
they are most often found in certain species of oysters.
Very fine ones have been discovered in the ordinary
British fresh-water mussel, notably from the Welsh and
Scotch rivers; the best known of these being one that
was found at Conway in the seventeenth century and
presented by the Lord of the Manor to Catherine of
Braganza, wife of Charles II; it is still preserved among
the Crown jewels. The sea mussels found at the mouth
of the Conway are still crushed for the sake of any pearls
they may contain.
About a year ago a large spherical pearl was taken
from a Whitstable oyster ; and pearl-bearers, both mussel
and oyster, are so continually found off the coast of
Scotland that a local fishery has more than once been
seriously mooted even in our own time. In the seven-
teenth and eighteenth centuries such an industry was
carried on there, over a hundred thousand pounds’ worth
of pearls being shipped to France between the years
1760 and 1800 alone. The Chinese oyster, too, often
contains a very small pearl.
In a general way, however, we can only expect to find
the genuine article in really warm seas and at a consider-
able distance from the shore, as in the case of Ceylon, the
East and West Indies, Central America, and the Persian
Gulf. The pearl-oyster proper (Meleagrina margaritiferus)
has a shell that is almost semicircular and of a greenish
colour outside, the inside being lined throughout with an
unusually thick and hard nacreous coat; the two valves
are joined together by a very long straight hinge. Such
fish are found either singly or in huge clusters, clinging
220
"yeyi JUsAaId 0} paves aie siaj}sAo jo sseq IS|IU MM
SHINAHSIY TAVAYd NOTAYD AHL LV dIHSGUVOL) AHL YVAN ONILIVM SLVOG
Shey,
eat a ain wir, by
eS Ne Sr ner Mitten rete ah
' oe ‘nae ?
PEARLS AND PEARL-DIVING
to rocks that are covered with seventy feet and more of
water; or lying huddled together on “banks” such as
the celebrated ones in the Gulf of Manaar on the west
coast of Ceylon.
It is often asked why pearl-oysters are not dredged for,
like others. In Australia and elsewhere the fishermen
have tried this method, and there is no special reason why
it might not become universal, beyond the fact that the
depth (nine to thirteen fathoms) is somewhat against it.
‘There is this to be said, also; three divers working for
ten hours can bring up three or four thousand oysters
between them; while, working with dredges, by the time
they had sorted the desirable from the undesirable, they
would not have caught much more than half that num-
ber; further—the fisherman, whether Asiatic or European,
will do as his fathers did.
Pearl-divers—Hindoos, Sinhalese, Coolies, Negroes, and
Arabs—have been trained to their work from childhood ;
trained to hold their breath under water, to stand the
pressure that must be expected in such a depth, and to
gather a bag-full of oysters in rather less than a minute.
Partly to realise what that pressure means, you have only
to lie at the bottom of a six-foot swimming bath while
you count sixty, and then reflect that a pearl-diver stays
the same length of time, and more, under twelve or
thirteen times that depth, busily working with his hands
the whole while.
Short as the Ceylon pearl season is—it lasts but from
the middle of March to the end of April—the divers, as
they are now paid, can earn enough'!during that time, if
221
PEARLS AND PEARL-DIVING
they are lucky, to satisfy their humble wants for the
remainder of the year. Some employers havea fixed rate
of payment; others go on the profit-sharing principle,
each boat taking a fourth of the proceeds of its catch,
and the divers sharing that amount equally.
Long before daylight the boats, hundreds of them, put
out, each of them rigged with a gigantic sort of lug-sail
and carrying a crew of from five-and-twenty to sixty,
including ten or more divers. Navigation in these waters
is a tolerably simple matter. There are no tides to speak
of, and the powerful coast currents which to a stranger
might be dangerous are known, every inch of them,
to the Sinhalese.
Unfortunately for those interested in the pearl-fisheries,
this happy condition of the sea only exists from the last
week of February till the second of April, possibly the
end of April. By that time the hot season is over, and
the island, lying as it does in the course of the two
monsoons (the south-west till September and then the
north-east till January and February), is henceforth
subject to heavy seas such as no diver could descend in.
Hence the six weeks’ season.
On reaching the banks ‘a signal-gun is fired and then
soundings are taken, though many of the fishermen know
the ground so well that this may often be a superfluous
measure ; still, as within the same half square mile, depths
of five and of a hundred fathoms can exist here, the
precaution is not to be wondered at.
By daylight, the whole scene on the pearl ground is the
very antipodes of what is to be witnessed among a British
222
PEARLS AND PEARL-DIVING
fishing fleet. For the most part the sea is dead calm and
oily-looking ; the sky is a brilliant, cloudless blue, and
the sun is already scorching the naked shoulders of the
fishermen, for the boat has cast anchor at but nine degrees
above the equator. Instead of the muttered word or two
and the silent obedience to orders that would characterise
an English or American crew, there is a frantic babble
of tongues, often in four different languages; violent
gesticulating, arguing, and squabbling, and an occasional
free fight, till we might well wonder how these men ever
get through any work at all. But the overseer, some-
times a Portuguese or an Englishman, restores order at
last, and the first “ shift ” of divers bestir themselves and
make ready for the task. Where ten divers go to a boat,
they work in shifts of five, turn and turn about.
When once the ropes are run over the blocks or the
gunwale, all signs of laziness disappear ; the shouting and
bustle certainly do not diminish, on the contrary, they are
part of the business, as will presently appear, and they
rather increase three-fold. Everyone now seems to move
as if fixed on springs, and so swiftly is the work carried out
that it is not until you have watched half a dozen descents
that you realise what is being done. The shift of divers
stand in a row along one side of the boat and beside
each of them is a sort of projection something like a
ship’s davit, with a block at the end of it, through which
the rope will be hauled. From it depends a short length
of the rope, to the end of which is fastened a large,
smooth stone weighing about forty pounds. Some boats
dispense with the davit-like contrivance, in which case the
223
PEARLS AND PEARL-DIVING
rope is hauled over the gunwale like the tow-line of a net.
Others have merely a high horizontal rail over which the
rope is hauled.
On the upper side of the stone a loop like a stirrup is
left in the rope, large enough to hold the naked foot of
the diver, so that you may say he stands on the stone with
one foot and maintains his perpendicular by clinging with
one hand to the lowering line. At a signal from the first
diver, his rope is let go and, weighted by the stone, he
sinks rapidly, the line-holders continuing to pay out rope
till the sudden slacking announces that the bottom is
reached. Instantly one of the crew springs to the gun-
wale and hauls back till the line is taut again, and then,
still keeping his hand on it, waits for the jerk that may
come at any moment from below, giving the signal to
draw up.
On many boats the divers work in pairs, one lowering
and hauling the other once or twice and then changing
about. If we could follow one of these black bodies to
its destination we should see the diver tearing off the
oysters in bundles from the rocks or shingle-bank, almost
squatting on his hams, or hanging to a reef by his toes,
one arm hooked round the rope while, with the disengaged
hand, he swiftly packs his shells into the net bag that
hangs over his shoulder. At last he can stand the strain
no longer; he pulls the rope and is hoisted up as fast as
the windlass handles can be turned, or, if the boat should
not possess such a contrivance, as fast as one or two men,
hauling hand over hand, can pullin the warp. When he
rises above water there are hands ready to help him into
224
PEARLS AND PEARL-DIVING
the boat, often a very necessary measure on account of the
strain he has undergone.
As to the length of time that an “undressed” diver
can remain under water, there is remarkable divergence;
the shape of the man’s chest and shoulders and the condi-
tion of his heart and lungs are the things that decide that
matter, together, of course, with the amount of pressure
to be sustained. Eighty seconds would perhaps be a
reasonable average, though Mediterranean sponge divers
have been known to stay down three and a half
minutes.
But does not a sensible diver keep one eye on the
oysters and the other on the sharks ? it may well be asked.
Possibly; but some of them are constitutionally unable to
keep their eyes open at all, relying instead on their sense
of touch; their lids drop when they enter the water, and
cannot be raised until the diver comes up again, as many
swimmers are aware from their own experience.
As to the sharks which, more’s the pity, certainly do
abound in the Gulf of Manaar, it is but rarely that they
pursue, let alone attack, a pearl-diver, and we may regard
ninety-nine per cent of the ghastly tales about these
monsters as fables. Sir E. Tennent, who may be taken
as an authority on all matters relating to Ceylon, writing
over forty years ago, says that not more than one well-
authenticated instance of a pearl-fisher’s meeting his
death in this manner could be quoted within a space of
fifty years. In the first place the shark has almost in-
variably a dread of human beings and, at any time, may
be scared away by sustained noise. ‘The presence of such
P 225
PEARLS AND PEARL-DIVING
a number of boats and the splash of the stone weights
are enough to frighten him away from the scene; indeed,
the shouting and bustle of the crews is to be regarded
largely as a special entertainment got up by the Sinhalese
with the avowed intention of keeping him at a safe dis-
tance. The dark skins of the divers, too, are generally
believed to constitute in themselves a sort of scare-shark,
so much so that the Arabs and the more light-skinned of
the Ceylonese are in the habit of smearing their bodies
with a semi-permanent black dye. A few of them take a
further precaution, though they themselves would admit
that in most cases it is a needless one; carry in their
girdles two or three short spikes made of iron-wood which,
if need arise, they are prepared to poke into the See of
the monster.
- One rather interesting superstition still lingers among
a few of the older divers in connection with the
shark. I mean the resorting at the beginning of
the season to the hereditary shark-charmer, a being
who is endowed, they maintain, with power to exor-
cise the voracious creature, and turn him back from
any person thus charmed; the ceremony connected with
the exorcism is a very ancient one, presumably rather
magical than religious. By some of the natives an
annual visit to this personage is thought insufficient, so it
occasionally happens that a boat’s crew will not sail unless
the charmer or some individual deputed by him accom-
panies them to the pearl ground.
If not too exhausted by his efforts, the diver on coming
to the surface will merely hand in his catch and hang for
226
PEARLS AND PEARL-DIVING
a minute to the boat’s side while he takes breath and then go
down again ; but, after a few such descents, he will be very
willing to be lifted aboard and let another man take his
place. Working thus alternately, diving scarcely stops
for an instant till the midday signal gun is fired, or till
the boat is full, when she at once makes for the shore as
fast as she can, anxious to be as near first in the field as
possible in order to get a good price for her cargo. Some-
times a boatload means as many as from twenty to forty
thousand fish, and these, packed in baskets or sacks, are
taken ashore, after having been sealed by an emissary
from a watch-boat, and carried to a large enclosure some
distance up the beach, checked, packed in heaps of a
thousand, and promptly offered for sale by the auctioneers.
Buyers from all the ends of the earth, and of all classes,
are waiting to bid, and each boatload is gradually dis-
posed of.
Thus heaped up out of their natural element, the fish
are dead in a couple of hours, and then the heat of the
sun begins the work of putrefying them. The smell—
but let us change the subject. Artificial means of opening
the oysters have been tried frequently in different parts
of the world, as, for instance, in South and Central
America by the sixteenth-century Spaniards, who were
wont to force the valves by exposure to a fierce fire; but
such methods have generally resulted in serious damage to
the contents by discoloration and breakage. In Ceylon
also, impatient buyers, imitating the example of the
auctioneers, who are forced to open a few on the spot as
samples of what the heap for sale is likely to contain,
227
PEARLS AND PEARL-DIVING
will wrench open the valves with their knives. In the
hands of an experienced man this is a risky operation,
and when performed by a neophyte it is largely a case of
fools stepping in where dredgers fear to tread. How many
laymen can open a “common or garden” oyster for eating
without cutting a hole in their hands, and hacking the
fish into a nasty, dirty mess?
When the few days of putrefaction have done their
work, “washing” begins, an occupation which calls for
consummate care and patience—and plugged nostrils.
Taking the shells a couple of hundred at a time, the
washers throw them into a tub of water, keeping careful
look-out as they do so for the loose pearls—the most
valuable of any—which have a tendency to roll away and
get lost. More often than not these lie near the mouth
of the shell; but they may also be concealed within the
body, or near the hinge. The fish, of course, sink, while
the dust, mites, and other dross rise to the surface. ‘The
dirty water is gently poured off and replaced by fresh,
and so on till nothing remains but shells, rotten oysters,
and possible pearls.
Next, the shells are handed out and closely examined.
Strangely enough, those pearls found adhering to the
upper or rounded valve are generally pronounced worth-
less, though, naturally, there are exceptions; those on the
flat valve are nipped off with delicate tools, and finally
the empty shells are set aside for the value of the nacre
lining.
Then the malodorous mass that is left in the tub has to
be felt and examined inch by inch ; work that can only be
228
*pooypltys wo yIOM
I19q} 0} peures} useq saAvY—squiy pu ‘sx0IBaN ‘sat]ood ‘aseequrs ‘soopulfy—sJoAIp [Ie9g
SUMAIC 'INVAG NOIAID AO dNOUD V
PEARLS AND PEARL-DIVING
done by people endowed with delicacy of touch. ‘The
men engaged in this are watched as closely as diamond-
field negroes. Many employers will not even allow them
to remove their hands from the tub except to give up
a “find.” When every perceptible pearl has been ex-
tracted, the putrid fish is laid out to dry, and then sorted
all over again for the sake of any treasures that may
have been allowed to pass unnoticed.
The sorting or sifting of the pearls is the next pro-
cess; and this is done by means of a large brass colander.
The pear-shaped and the larger spherical pearls are set
aside for subsequent drilling, the smaller sifted and re-
sifted and classed according to their size; the smallest of
all are packed away for export to China, where a far
greater trade in “seed-pearls” is done than the local
fisheries can possibly keep supplied. Among other ways
of utilising them, the Chinese physicians calcine them and
employ them in their medicines.
The Ceylon pearl-fisheries are probably the least
reliable of any, and one year’s returns are in no way
a guarantee for those of another. ‘This, no doubt, is
largely accounted for by the fact that the varying depths
make only a great number of small oyster-beds instead of a
few large ones; so that, even without taking into account
the cod and other ground-fish that feast on shell and
oyster whenever occasion arises, the number of “ brood”
must necessarily fluctuate when at any time the spat as it
is cast is liable to float away to depths beyond reach
of even a “ dressed ” diver.
On the other hand, the Arabian fisheries, that are
229
PEARLS AND PEARL-DIVING
carried on near the coast of the island of Bahrein in the
Persian Gulf, seem to vary very little from one year
to another, their average annual worth being reckoned at
about three hundred thousand pounds.
Those of Western Australia, too, are proving both
regular and remunerative. The native Polynesian divers
who are employed often prefer to go down unweighted,
first smearing their bodies with grease. Among these
folk the women are unquestionably the better divers.
Some allusion should be made here to a comparatively
new industry—pearl-shell fishing, which is greatly on the
increase owing to the manufacture of artificial pearls and
to the steady demand for mother-of-pearl. Nearly all
round the coast of Australia as well as in the Dutch East
Indies, mussels, oysters, and kindred fish are continually
being dived or dredged for, solely for the sake of the
nacre which they contain. West Australia alone sends
away about a hundred thousand pounds’ worth of such
shells every year—just four times the value of that
colony’s pearl-fisheries. At this work also, the Polynesian
divers are in great request.
Apropos of artificial pearls, there is a considerable in-
dustry among the Mediterranean fishermen in netting
the argentine, a very brilliant, silver-coloured fish of the
salmon order. When caught it is opened, and its sound
or air-bladder removed and specially treated for the sake
of the coat of nacre with which that part of its anatomy
is covered.
230
CHAPTER XIX
WHALES AND WHALING
A profitable if risky industry—One or two historical details—The
home of the whale—Old and new methods of catching him—
Harpoons—‘‘ Blowing ”—The whale’s trail—Throwing the harpoon
—A nerve-destroying trade—The tow-line—Other shots at the
monster—A cut at the tail—The death—Cutting up—The whale’s
enemies — Rorquals and cachalots— A modern whaler and its
equipment—The harpoon-gun and the bomb-lance—A disappoint-
ing whale—Various uses to which the carcass is devoted—Sperm
oil and ambergris,
HE Cetacea, the order to which the whale, as well
as the porpoise and the dolphin belong, are marine
mammals, more or less fish-like in form, warm-
blooded, breathing by means of lungs, and inhaling air
while on the surface of the water. You may seek
throughout the animal kingdom and not find a creature
more valuable after it is dead; not an ounce of it need
be—or, nowadays, is—wasted; blood, bones, skin, en-
trails, all are of some use; and the man who gave two
hundred pounds for a carcass might look to make cent
per cent profit on his investment.
The body is more or less spindle-shaped, ending in a
tail which, unlike that of the fish, is transversal or hori-
zontal. It is this member that is mainly instrumental
in moving the enormous body, for its flippers are rela-
231
WHALES AND WHALING
tively weak and are used principally to balance its move-
ments. The nostrils are usually placed on the upper
part of the head, by which arrangement the whale can
breathe without raising the head far above water; the
skin is hairless. Whales proper are generally classified
as toothless and toothed; the first group including the
Rorqual and the Arctic or Right whale; the second the
Cachalot or Sperm whale.
The whale-fishery dates back to very ancient times.
The tales of whaling, as prosecuted by the early American
Indians, are not perhaps to be taken seriously ; the tale,
for instance, of the intelligent Florida savages, who were
wont to spring on the back of the creature, plug up one
of his nostrils with a wooden peg, go down to the bottom
with him and up again; hammer another plug into the
second nostril and then leave him to suffocate. But of
the antiquity of harpooning there can be no doubt. It
is said of Leviathian, in the Book of Job, “Canst thou
fill his skin with barbed irons, or his head with fish-
spears ?”
And there is certainly no room for doubt as to the
ancient Eskimo method, for many of these strange little
people still follow the plan with which they are credited
in very early chronicles of travel. A flotilla of kayaks
surrounds one of these monsters, and the hunters throw
harpoons, to which huge bladders made of sealskin are
attached. With a few of such spears sticking into it, the
poor whale cannot possibly dive (or “sound”), for he
is very effectually buoyed to the surface by the bladders,
and the Eskimos can slaughter him at their leisure,
232
WHALES AND WHALING
Otherus, a ninth-century German navigator, saw more
than two hundred whales taken in two days by Biscayan
fishermen in the White Sea; in fact, the Biscayans had
practically the whole of the whaling industry in their
hands up till the seventeenth century; for most nations
(the Japanese and the Eskimos excepted) regarded the
pursuit of the monster rather as a sport than as a
business. -
The Spaniards and the Dutch forcibly took the trade
away from the Biscayans, who fell into the secondary
position of guides and teachers, and even English mariners
were glad to learn of them. In the seventeenth century
the Dutch applied their proverbial business capacity to
the work; pursued the whales to Spitzbergen, and founded
the village of Smeerenbourg (‘‘Grease Town”) on
Amsterdam Island ; and, when the animals were gradually
chased from that neighbourhood, instituted the Green-
land fishery.
For a long while the British met with but poor success
at the business; but, in 1732, Government offered large
subsidies (which were doubled in 1749), and so, bit by
bit, England and her colonies rose to the front rank as
whalers. |
Up to the earlier part of the nineteenth century, a
favourite ground for the fishery was round about Disko
Island; but now many of the Arctic whales have sought
refuge still further north in Baffin Bay, etc. In the
eighteenth century, explorers from the United States
resolved to try whaling off the Falkland Islands and
Patagonia, and pushed their researches to the Antarctic
233
WHALES AND WHALING
regions; and now America and England rely largely on
the produce of these fishing grounds. But it is not
necessarily the cold latitudes in which we must look for
whaling; the African, Australian, and New Zealand
coasts; Japan, Corea, and Norway offer ample scope ; for
the whale will go wherever he can find food, whether
the latter be the molluscs of the French and Scotch
coasts, or the opossum shrimps of the Arctic regions.
When a whale is thrown ashore or caught near the coast
in the British Isles, it is, like the sturgeon, a Fish Royal,
the head being the property of the king, and the tail,
of the queen.
Steam and gunpowder have robbed whaling of its
sporting and romantic features to a very great extent,
but not altogether; you cannot go into deep water, what-
ever may be your boat and equipment, in pursuit of a
giant considerably longer than a cricket-pitch, that may
elect to smash all the small boats—and some of the large
ones—within reach of his ponderous tail, without feeling
a little bit like a mighty hunter. The Norwegian and
American fishermen laugh at the notion of harpooning
a whale in the old-fashioned style; and use only the
harpoon-gun—which we shall presently consider. But
first let us watch the traditional method, which we can
do very well from a Dutch or Shetland whaler.
The ship will probably be a three-master, with fore-
and main-mast square-rigged, having a crew of five-and-
thirty ; and with her will be half a dozen four or five-
oared boats. When a likely ground is reached a look-
out man is posted aloft, and, at his signal, the small
234
WHALES AND WHALING
boats are lowered. At the helm of each boat is an old
hand with whom most of the responsibility rests ; in the
bows is the harpooner, waiting to throw as soon as the
word of command is given.
The harpoon calls for some description. It is about
three and a half feet long and has two parts—the iron,
and the handle or shank, which carries a quarter of a mile
of rope. The iron tapers, from the shank to the neck
above the barbs, then spreads out into a broad-barbed
spear-head, the outer edges of which are very keen, while
the shoulders are thick and blunt; so that when once the
barbs are fleshed there is no pulling them out.
Suddenly the coxswain sees a sort of broad whirlpool
or eddy spreading near the boat, and, at the same time,
there is a rumbling and an upheaving in the same
vicinity ; then a black muzzle and blow-holes appear on
the surface ; the whale has come up to breathe. Then up
shoots a double column of vapour from the blow-holes,
each column curving outwards and rising several yards in
the air; then the head and tail—perhaps the whole
body—become visible, only to sink again before a harpoon
could possibly be made to reach him. The whale does
not do things on a small scale; when he breathes he
makes himself heard several hundred yards away, and, if
he is agitated, the sound is audible for a mile or two.
The “columns” are composed of the warm air from the
lungs of the animal, mingled with some amount of watery
vapour and particles of fatty matter, hence they are only
visible when the surrounding temperature is low, just as
we can only “see our own breath” on a cold day. The
235
WHALES AND WHALING
vapour quickly dissolves, but the greasy particles are left
lying on the surface of the water, and so afford an indis-
putable “trail,” which the whalers are not slow to take
advantage of.
The coxswain has carefully noted the angle at which
the creature’s tail was inclined, for that is an indication
of the direction it will have followed; also the quantity
of the grease spots, from which he will be able to tell
whether the whale has taken a long or a short breath, for
upon this depends the length of time it will remain under
water, and according to his deductions he gives his com-
mands to the crew.
Presently comes a repetition of the rumbling and eddy-
ing; the helmsman has not been far out in his reckoning;
the whale is coming to the surface only thirty yards away
from his boat ; the other crews see it and start rowing
with all their strength. But the coxswain of the nearest
boat takes things gently; certainly he wants to get within
half a dozen yards of the whale, but he does not want his
boat to come in contact with the animal’s tail, or to get
a knock with a huge flipper that will swamp her or
smash her to splinters.
Holding his spear with both hands, and supporting
himself against the curves of the bow, the harpooner
awaits the signal.
“Let go!” or “Strike!” shouts the cox suddenly, and
all the men hold their breath in their excitement and
suspense, for so much depends on the shot. If the harpoon
should be thrown awkwardly or with insufficient force, it
may merely prick the skin, and fall out again by its own
236
HARPOONING A SPERM WHALE
As the coxswain shouts, the harpoon whizzes through the air, and the barbs, cleaving
their way through skin and blubber, fix themselves in one of the hard elastic muscles
of the whale.
WHALES AND WHALING
weight ; or, having taken up a temporary position half in
and half out of the flesh, it may easily be expelled by
a special muscular action on the part of the whale. In
either of these cases the loss that would be sustained by
the crews is incalculable, for the wounded creature,
having escaped, will gather together its friends and its
neighbours, and the whole “school” will dash away out
of further reach. Judge, then, whether the harpooner
should not be a man of unshakable nerve. Yet some
are not; some turn livid and tremulous the moment the
harpoon has left their hands, and, if the shot should fail,
probably could not make a second, even if the lives of the
crew depended on it. Seasoned whalers will tell you that
the work is more nerve-destroying than all the other
fisheries put together. ‘The risk is so awful, death so
certain, if a false step be made ; the stake at issue such a
huge one (for so great are the rewards that a poor man
may become rich in no time), that everything combines to
make whaling infinitely worse than pearl-diving, and as bad
as the gambling-tables, as far as nerves are concerned.
As the cox shouts, the heavy dart whistles across the
few yards of space, and the barbs cleave their way
through skin and blubber and tissue, fixing themselves in
the fibres of one of the tough elastic muscles which close
over them with a spring, and from which they can never
be torn while the animal remains alive.
“Good shot; look out for the lme!” says the man at
the helm.
The harpooned whale has this in common with the
hooked salmon—you never know what he will do next.
237
WHALES AND WHALING
It goes without saying that a great deal depends on where
he is hit; if a motor nerve or important muscle is badly
injured he may try to make a hurried escape, and yet be
deterred from doing so by the pain which his first instinc-
tive motion causes. Thus there may be time for a second
harpoon, either from the same man or the cox, or even
from another boat; for, badly hurt or not, the animal
generally hesitates for a few moments before deciding on
a course of action.
Suddenly it plunges under—keep clear of the rope if
you value your life. A trawl tow-warp is bad enough to
get entangled in; but if you should be caught in the coil
of a harpoon-line you are in for a journey of a couple of
hundred yards or more—in the direction of the bottom.
The line, which is probably coiled in a couple of tubs,
runs out at terrific speed till you begin to think that this
part of the sea is bottomless. But after a time the rate
is reduced till the coil scarcely seems to move; the rope
hangs slack, and so far perpendicular that you find your-
self wondering whether the whale intends coming up im-
mediately under you. Another move of the line; no
more runs out, but the part that hangs over the bow is
taking a horizontal direction, and, a hundred yards or so
to leeward, a similar whirlpool to that which you noticed
before is forming; a bluish patch rises above water and
moves forward at a moderate pace till the line is taut
again; the whale has come to the top, still conscious that
something is sticking into it and cannot be got rid of, but
not yet prepared to find a boat-load of men hitched to
that something.
238
WHALES AND WHALING
Meanwhile other boats are rowing “ full tilt,” to get in
a shot at the prize, the more so that, now the animal has
appeared above water, it is seen that the harpoon has
fallen too low—too near the belly—to cause a really
serious wound. The only hope is to get up with him
again, or else to be content to let him tire himself out, a
proceeding which may last all day and possibly all night.
One boat ahead of the rest seeks a convenient spot from
which to throw, for a whale is not an animal to be
“headed off in front” at pleasure. Guided by the lie of
the tail, the cox steers for where he can be moderately
sure of safety when the whale starts forward, and then
shouts to his harpooner. The spear flashes through the
air and seems as though it would catch the monster above
the fin-joint.
But before the point can reach him, the whale, having
now drawn the first line taut enough to have found that
there is resistance at the end of it, rolls forward without
sinking, and the second harpoon is lodged considerably
nearer the tail than the fin. The tortured animal wanted
but this fresh spur to goad him into a headlong rush for-
ward ; there is a yell from the first boat as it is dragged
almost out of the water for an instant, and then, at the
full length of its cable, is towed along at break-neck
speed.
“Chuck us a line, sharp!”
cries the cox to the boat
nearest to him as his own flies past her. ‘The harpooner
in this boat is prepared for the emergency and throws his
painter deftly into the hands of the other cox, who thus
joins up the two little vessels. If there should be a
239
WHALES AND WHALING
possible chance, a third will seek to join herself on in like
manner, for every extra weight will tend to shorten the
whale’s journey.
Groaning and roaring so that it can be heard three
miles away, the wounded creature dashes on till it has
exhausted the length of line that hangs to the second
harpoon, then pauses for a moment, for it finds the weight
behind increased by a third boat. Now it is the turn of
the helmsmen to feel nervous; each one of them has but
two eyes—one for his boat, and one for the whale; and
just now he would give a considerable sum to possess a
third, to keep on the other two boats. ‘The two that are
tied together are in little danger from each other, but a
collision between them and the third depends largely on
the whale’s pleasure. He has enough rope to keep him
from “rounding on” the crews, for unless anything un-
foreseen should happen, they can dodge him before he can
get to them.
The remaining boats, meanwhile, are watching for an
opportunity of giving chase whenever possible, or are lying
in wait in case the whale should turn their way. One
sharper or luckier than the rest has been able to pull
round to the whale’s far side as he stops, doubtful whether
to dive again or not, and the men in the towed boats
breathe a little more freely as they catch a glimpse of her
sharp bows near the monster’s tail; for they know that
with a little luck a fatal blow is about to be struck.
The harpooner in this boat is leaning so far forward
that every moment it seems as if he must overbalance ;
holding not the ordinary harpoon, but a broad-bladed lance
240
*pesn suloq SI I9uwI0 394} pe3ordap 9ues0s 84} UT “pesn SI 89X¥ peisyqj2} BV 10 VDUR] Pepel/q-pvoiq ve uoodieq Bjo peojysuy
“NWOTOD) IVUEALYAA SATIVHM V ONINHAGS
WHALES AND WHALING
or a tethered axe. His crew are resting on their oars, or
gently backwatering if the current is with them, while he
and his cox stand with their eyes fixed upon the enormous
tail. The beast is going to dive again and, the moment
the tail is raised, the harpooner is going to try for a cut
at the backbone.
The tail rises, and before it can fall or the head dis-
appear, the harpooner, at the risk of his own life and
those of the crew, throws his lance under it. There is
another fearful roar from the whale which almost drowns
the cox’s shout to the rowers to backwater, and the tail
drops inert as the four oar-blades lift the little craft out
of harm’s way.
A triumphant shout from the crew informs the other
boats that the blood is streaming from the new wound,
and they know that the lower part of the whale’s verte-
bral column has been severed. Meanwhile these others
are not idle, for they have pulled nearer again, and their
tow-ropes are once more hanging slack as the unfortunate
animal makes another dive. ‘This time he scarcely seems
to be down a moment, then up again, and, distracted with
pain and with rage at not being able to shake off his tor-
mentors, makes a feeble turn to the right, presenting a
broadside to the three boats that are fast coming up with
him, He will never get away now, for his principal means
of locomotion is useless.
Another harpoon whizzes from the foremost boat; the
point cleaves its way through an artery and the blood
spurts out in spasmodic jets, Again he dives, but for less
than a minute, and when he comes up to blow there is
Q 241
WHALES AND WHALING
something else ejected from the blow-holes besides vapour
—two streams of blood, which the fishermen know is a sign
that all is over with him. He may live another hour,
making frantic little plunges that avail him nothing, but
he will never swim another mile. As a fresh harpoon
strikes him he sounds once more, this time almost without
a roar; is down for a couple of minutes, then comes up
slowly and lying on his back. Poor whale! his days are
ended ; let him bleed—the more the better ; the less likely
he is to sink.
And now the body must be towed, perhaps a couple of
miles, back to the ship; heavy work for even four or five
boats’ crews; but at last the enormous carcass is pulled
alongside the larger vessel and moored to her; and then,
unless they are going off after another catch, the work of
cutting up begins. At one time this used to be done by
the men standing on the body with spiked boots and cut-
ting off the rolls of blubber as far as they could. A more
recent method consisted in cutting away the flesh under
the mouth with spade-shaped axes; removing the tongue,
and then slicing off the blubber in almost spiral strips
from mouth to tail, and hauling it aboard. ‘The blubber
was then split into thicknesses of about half an inch and
boiled on deck over a furnace that was kept fierce by the
unmelted pieces of fatty tissue skimmed from the top of
the cauldron. To prevent danger from fire, there was a
space between the grate and the deck, through which cold
water constantly flowed.
The average amount of blubber taken from a whale
would be about twenty-five tons. The blubber-coat lies
242
WHALES AND WHALING
immediately under the skin, and is six inches thick, except
that on the under-lip, which generally has a depth of two
or three fect.
The toothless whales are compensated for their want of
teeth by the presence of baleen, or “ whalebone,” which is
arranged in their mouths in a rather peculiar manner,
plates of this valuable substance lying along the palate,
their inner edges terminating in fringes of filaments
which fall like a curtain over the interior of the mouth,
and serve as a strainer to the animal’s food; for, as is well
known, the swallowing apparatus of this species is relatively
small, the largest fish it can take being a herring.
Mankind is not the whale’s only enemy. As near home
as the Hebrides a battle may not infrequently be seen
between a whale and a group of “threshers” or fox-
sharks. The thresher is about thirteen feet long, and has
a very effective weapon in its upper tail-fin, which is as
long as its whole body, and with which it can deal a blow
of terrific power. Sometimes springing several yards in
the air (these creatures can jump as high as a mast-head)
it will deal bang after bang on the luckless leviathan, the
reports of the blows echoing like rifle-shots. The fisher-
men say that there is a secret understanding between this
amiable fish and the narwhal, and that while the fox-
shark thrashes above, his ally thrusts and stabs below, till
between them the whale bleeds to death and affords them
a meal or two.
Another variety of the toothless or baleen whales is
the Rorqual, which has a soft back fin and curious
243
WHALES AND WHALING
puckers along its upper side, and sometimes reaches a
length of more than a hundred feet. Round the Maldive
and Seychelle Islands, in the Indian Ocean, are the fa-
vourite hunting-grounds for them, and the American and
Scandinavian whalers have almost a monopoly there.
The typical toothed whale is the Sperm or Cachalot,
eighty feet long, and frequenting both the northern and
southern seas. It is easily to be distinguished from any
other of its tribe, if only by its enormous square head ;
the back is black, the belly white, the skin soft and silky.
It is gregarious, and travels in shoals of a couple of
hundred. More pugnacious than most other species, it
will turn to bay when attacked, and will deliberately
charge or butt the pursuing ship. It is hunted princi-
pally for the sake of the oil secreted in its head and in a
tube running along its back (spermaceti) ; its teeth yield
an inferior sort of ivory; its body is used up like those of
other kinds, and ambergris is taken from its entrails.
It has become proverbial on account of the love and
care bestowed by the mother on her young; and no
wonder. Over and over again fishermen have seen the
mother sacrifice her life for the sake of her little one.
Indeed, when a whale-boat encounters a suckling mother,
it invariably attacks the young one, knowing that, in her
anxiety to save the offspring, the older animal will not
only interpose her body between it and the boat, but will
be so taken up with shielding it that she will become an
easy prey to the harpoons. She will even put her fin
under the little thing’s body to help it to swim the faster
when pursued.
244
WHALES AND WHALING
The modern whaler is very different from anything we
have yet considered. First, there is the stout three to
five hundred ton vessel, with her crew of about fifty
hands, her six or eight double-pointed rowing boats,
thirty feet long, and manned by six; her seventy-five
horse-power engine, with her armoury of windlasses,
boilers, oil-tank (built to hold nearly three hundred tons
of oil), and her general workmanlike turn-out. And
secondly, there is the boat beloved of the Norwegian and
American whalers—a still more business-like craft ; a fast
hundred-ton twin screw, as obedient as a steam yacht,
with an elaborate look-out forward, and one of the most
deadly inventions of our day—the harpoon-gun—rigged
up in her bows,
The first may be seen setting off from Dundee for a
two-year cruise in the Antarctic regions; and a very
gambling prospect she has before her. In 1895 a Dundee
boat, the Arctic, came home from a short trip with ten
whales, which meant five tons of whalebone, at that time
worth ten thousand pounds, as well as twenty thousand
gallons of oil. Recent scarcity of Antarctic whales has,
of course, tremendously increased the value of the catches
—to such an extent, in fact, that whalebone, which fifty
years ago sold at the rate of a shilling a pound, is now
worth about thirty times that amount.
The second kind of boat, which in a few years is
destined to drive most other whalers out of the field, may
be seen to the best advantage south of Greenland.
Watch her as she routs out a cachalot or a fin-back. As
before, the whale heralds his appearance by roars and
245
WHALES AND WHALING
grumbles and eddies, and the boat, travelling her twelve
or thirteen knots an hour, is quickly in a position to
launch her deadly shaft. The gun, seventy-five pounds
in weight, four and a half feet long, including three feet
of barrel, is fixed on a swivel; it has a range of from
thirty to forty yards, and an ordinary pistol-handle.
From this is fired the “ bomb-lance,” an American inven-
tion, a sort of improvement on Devisme’s baile foudroy-
ante. It is a cast-iron tube containing a small quantity
of gunpowder; is pointed at one end, and at the other,
which is tethered, has a match or fuse which, when the
ball has penetrated into the whale’s body, explodes the
powder. If by any chance this explosion should take
place in one of the lungs, the whale is dead instantly.
Many improvements have been tried—some carried into
effect—on this deadly contrivance. A great many years
ago, when it was first used, a celebrated French scientist,
Dr. Thiercelin, tried the addition of various chemicals to
the powder in the bomb, and ten Newfoundland whales
shot in this manner died within spaces varying from four
to eighteen minutes.
The still newer Norwegian improvement is a bomb with
a shank fitted to it; the bomb enters the whale’s body,
carrying with it this shank, explodes, inflicting dangerous
if not mortal injuries, and, as the animal moves forward,
the pull on the line to which the weapon is fastened sets
free two or four grips, or pins hinged at one end, which
embed themselves barb-like in the flesh, thereby fixing the
shank so that it cannot possibly move.
As the boat comes within a few fathoms of the whale,
246
WHALES AND WHALING
the gun is fired, its explosion being echoed by a second as
the bomb bursts, and the whale gives an agonised bellow
and disappears, dragging the tow-line after it at electric
speed. It should be mentioned that the cachalot can
comfortably remain under water for nearly an hour.
When he comes up again perhaps he is a quarter of a
mile away, blowing and roaring so that we suspect he has
not been injured in the vital part. Steam is put on, but
not too much; at any moment the formidable giant is
capable of turning and making a dash at its pursuers, and
while one half of the skipper’s energies are expended in
trying to get within range again, the other half are given
up to preparing to dodge any sudden turn the whale may
be pleased to make.
But instead of charging he sounds again, perhaps
several times; the boat hesitates and slows down. On his
reappearance there are signs that he is weaker; true, he
now begins to try the full length of his tether; he even
starts to tow the boat along at a good rate, but his speed
very soon flags.
“Don’t spend another charge on him; let him tire
down,” is the skipper’s order to the men in the bow; and,
even as he speaks, the rope slacks again, and very slowly
the mighty body begins to roll over on to its back. A
chorus of cheering rises from the boat, but is speedily
changed into a chorus of something else as the whale
suddenly disappears from view. ‘The crew look gloomy,
and with good reason; they can cut away that cable as
soon as they like, for the whale has sunk and will shortly
be the sole property of a colony of fifteen-foot Greenland
247
WHALES AND WHALING
sharks that are lying in wait with an eye to such a
contingency.
Naturally everyone has a reason to offer for the disaster ;
one fellow swears that the whale was wounded in the
abdomen; another that it never once spouted blood ;
either may be right; for half a dozen reasons a dead
whale is liable to sink; invariably if the water have
rushed into its windpipe.
Such accidents, however, are comparatively rare; it is
more likely that the whale will float, and that the sharks
will be cheated by his being towed ashore ; or, if the boat
has a busy day before it, by his being buoyed up and left for
atime. Boats of this sort, that go no great distance from
home, carry no gear for quartering the whale; they merely
tow the carcass as near to the shore as possible, whence
it is drawn in chains up the beach, by steam-power, to the
butchering sheds. On some boats they have a practice,
before mooring the body, of inflating it with air pumped
in by the engines, very much as boys blow out a frog ; it
can then be hitched to a buoy without fear of its sinking,
unless one of its enemies comes along and makes a hole in
it—a danger which is warded off by a man and a gun
being left in charge, in a small boat.
I said further back that not an ounce of the whale need
be wasted; its flesh is as sweet and wholesome as beef ;
the oil, and the whalebone from the toothless whales, are
of course of great value; the skeleton is made up into all
sorts of “earthenware” vessels; and now some sages have
arisen to show that the skin can be tanned for leather and
the milk of the females converted into condensed milk.
248
WHALES AND WHALING
The spermaceti from the head of the cachalot is freed
from the phocenine or rank oil which it contains by treat-
ing it with chloride of lime, oak-bark, and sulphuric acid ;
is clarified, and henceforth known as sperm oil, a crystalline
solid fat from which wax candles are made.
One more word about the other valuable whale-product
—ambergris, which is simply incompletely digested food
taken from the intestines, generally in hard lumps, four
or five from each cachalot. It is of the consistency of
beeswax, so much so that it adheres to the knife when it
is scraped and a moderate heat suffices to make it soft and
oily. Its peculiarly sweet scent is increased by heat or
friction. Immense quantities are imported into Southern
Europe for the manufacture of perfumery, and among
the Easterns it is still used as a flavouring in cooking.
249
CHAPTER XX
HOW SPONGES ARE PROCURED
What sponge is—Where it grows—Sponge-diving—The undressed
diver—A ‘‘ dressed” diver at work—His dress—The diver on the
bottom—Signals—Coming up—Dredging for sponges—Awkward
gear—Sponge-harpooning—The spy-glass—The Adriatic trade—
Sponge-culture—Florida Keys—Sponge-hooking in the Bahamas.
SPONGE is a skeleton, not of one animal but of
A countless thousands, and it represents, as Professor
Huxley has expressed it, “a kind of sub-aqueous
city, where the people are arranged about the streets and
roads in such a manner that each can easily appropriate
his food from the water as it passes along.”
This skeleton may be flexible and elastic and horny, as
in the case of the ordinary washing sponge; or it may be
calcareous, chalky, and therefore useless for the purposes
to which we ordinarily devote this substance. The
animals which inhabit it, and which are almost at the
bottom of the zoological ladder (for they come under the
head of protozoa), take the form of a jelly-like mass, not
unlike the uncooked white of an egg; and this separates
itself from its shell or skeleton when the sponge is lifted
out of the water and squeezed.
Sponges are not by any means confined to salt water,
although those of commerce are invariably marine ; nor
250
HOW SPONGES ARE PROCURED
are they necessarily a rarity in any warm or temperate
part of the sea, but they develop better and reproduce
more freely in some beds than in others. ‘They were
regarded by the old naturalists as peculiar to the Mediter-
ranean, but we all know that small varieties are found
round the British coasts; the beautiful “ mermaid’s
glove ” or five-fingered sponge is not seldom found in the
oyster-dredge, or, for that matter, on the fish-hook.
Moreover, in the year 1840, a European sponge-merchant
discovered that the valuable substance was as common as
mussels on the reef between Florida and the Bahamas,
and since then the West Indian industry has in some
‘respects promised to rival that of the Mediterranean.
The spongy skeleton adheres very firmly to the sea-
bottom or the rocks on which it grows, and how to obtain
it uninjured is a very serious problem, which the fishermen
have endeavoured to solve in various ways: by diving, by
dredging, and by harpooning or hooking.
The first method is the oldest and, from the merchant’s
point of view, the safest and most profitable, and it has
been practised round about the Greek Islands, Sicily, the
Levant, and the north of Africa for ages. Six thousand
men are now employed in the Levant sponge-fishery alone,
and about the same number in other parts of the
Mediterranean. ‘These Greek divers, like those of Ceylon,
are trained to their task almost from infancy, and become
gradually accustomed to working under water and to
enduring a pressure so great that less than half of it
would mean death to the untrained man.
But sponge sometimes chooses a depth of from one to
251
HOW SPONGES ARE PROCURED
two hundred fathoms for its habitation, and we have
seen, in the case of the pearl-divers, that thirteen fathoms
is a depth that taxes an undressed diver’s powers to
almost their full extent. Some of the Sicilians and
Greeks will venture to fifteen, but the brief time which
they are able to remain under water at that depth is of
little use for such hard and lengthy work, and the effort
seems almost to rob them of the power to wrench the
larger sponges free from their natural moorings. 'There-
fore, the boat-owners have of late years been glad to
engage professional divers of another sort from England
and France, or from among their own people, who, when
“ dressed,” can remain down a very considerable length of
time. Such men boast that they could stay for ever in
five-fathom water, and any one of them who knows his
business can do sponge-work in fifteen fathoms for at
least an hour, and can remain in from twenty to fifty
fathoms for longer than an undressed diver could stay in
ten; all the same, even an exceptionally strong British
diver would refuse to work for any length of time in more
than twenty-eight. Hence the need for dredging, or
other mechanical means, when the sponge-ground is
covered with more than fifty fathoms of water.
Let us watch the undressed divers first. Their way of
going to work differs in some respects from that of the
pearl-fishers. When the depth has been taken, and the
position of the sponges ascertained by means of a spy-
glass, a rope, equivalent to the depth, is made fast by
one end to the boat; to the other end is tied a large
white stone, triangular or oblong, which has a hole drilled
252
HOW SPONGES ARE PROCURED
through one corner. The man, instead of putting his
foot in a loop, gives the weighted end of the line a turn
or two round his breast and then springs into the water like
an ordinary swimmer ; some prefer merely to hold the rope
by one hand. Sharks, we know, are plentiful hereabout,
and there are no shark-charmers. Still one seldom hears
of a diver being attacked; there is always a gun or two
on board, and there is the same amount of bustle and
splashing and shouting as in the Gulf of Manaar.
Arrived at the bottom, the diver—if he be in the
habit of keeping his eyes open—uses the white stones as
a landmark, for there is no reason to suppose that he will
be lucky enough to drop in the middle of a sponge-bed.
If the water be clear he will then leave go of the rope
and wander round, always able to find his way back as
long as he can see the stone. But, as often as not, there
is trouble going on at the bottom; a fight among the
ground-fish, or a dolphin poking about after molluscs,
and the water is as thick as a London fog—even the
man’s own movements, in some grounds, are sufficient to
cloud everything. In such a case the diver dare not let
go of the rope, but must carry the stone about with him.
Hurriedly tearing off all the sponges that lie to his hand,
he stuffs them into his net-bag (some men carry no bag,
but tuck their gatherings under the left arm), gives a
couple of jerks to the rope, and he and the bag and the
stone are swiftly hoisted up.
It may be asked, How is the man at the top to tell
the difference between the signal for hauling and the
natural tugs on the rope caused by the diver in moving
253
HOW SPONGES ARE PROCURED
from point to point? But the man at the top, it must
be remembered, is a fisherman, and the sense of touch of
a man who has to do with lines acquires a subtilty that
might almost be compared to a musician’s “ear.” Un-
consciously he follows every one of the diver’s movements
hither and thither, and, in ninety-nine cases out of a
hundred, could be relied upon to haul up at the right
moment without any signal at all.
The diver is now lifted into the boat and gets his
breath while the next man goes down. I have seen it
stated that whenever these fellows come to the surface,
blood flows from their mouths, ears, and noses. How
many gallons of blood do the authors of such a statement
suppose a man can afford to lose in the course of a day?
As a rule, once and once only does a Mediterranean diver
expect to bleed in this manner, and that is when he goes
down for the first time after being away from such work
some months—as, for instance, on the first day of the
season. What is more, the divers regard this as not only
a healthy sign, but as a sign that they are fit for their
work. Indeed, if any man should find that bleeding
does not then occur he will not attempt another descent
that day, nor will he start regular work till he has
bled.
The dressed diver’s performance is a far more preten-
tious affair, for, as the reader is aware, he must be sup-
plied with air all the time he is down; also, the lowering
and hauling of a man to whose natural weight a dress
weighing a hundred and forty-seven pounds (ten stone
seven!) is added, is a very different matter from dealing
254
HOW SPONGES ARE PROCURED
with a naked man. A successful diver must be both born
and made, and any member of the trade could tell,
almost at a glance, whether or no a stranger would ever
be of any use for such work. ‘The ideal diver is the short
or medium-height man, with markedly sloping shoulders
and very deep chest, such a build being the best calcu-
lated to resist the terrible water-pressure.
The dressing of the man is rapidly performed by one
or two members of the crew; and here a brief description
of a diver’s “rig ” may be of interest to the reader. The
“dress” goes on first, and consists of coat, trousers, and
socks all in one piece; this fits very loosely to the figure,
is made of mackintosh and lined with india-rubber, and
round the cuffs of this strange garment rubber rings are
fastened to keep it water-tight at the wrists. Then
comes the heavy breast-plate which is of copper, and
serves to relieve the chest of undue pressure ; and to this
is screwed a band of brass which goes round the chest to
the back. The heavily-weighted boots are then laced on,
and the cord or “life-line” knotted loosely round the
waist. Lastly there is the somewhat gruesome-looking
helmet, with whose shape all are familiar; the “eyes”
are window-panes on a small scale, protected by wire
gauze. ‘The life-line is then carried up the left side of the
body, passes through a clip on the helmet, then is brought
down again over the chest where it meets a short cord
which has also been tied round the waist.
Now the breathing apparatus. The nozzle of a wire-
lined rubber tube, like a garden-hose, is screwed into
a hole on the side of the helmet; the tube is carried
255
HOW SPONGES ARE PROCURED
under one arm, and looped up once more to the helmet ;
the other end of the tube communicates with a two-
or three-cylinder air pump. It can, of course, be joined
up to any length, and is made as long as the life-line.
Thus habited, our diver is lifted over the side of
the vessel on to a ladder which runs some little distance
under water, and when he is certain that all his gear
is quite safe, he lets himself go. One man watches the
life-line, another pays out the tube, and one or two more
turn the handle of the air-pump. As soon as he reaches
the bottom, the diver takes from his shoulders a coil
of thin cord which he has brought down with him—
the “track-line.” Perhaps one end is weighted; if not
he ties it to whatever fixture he can find and then sets off
on his travels to the end of his tether, which is a fairly
long one, letting the track-line run from his hand as he
goes ; stopping every now and then to gather the finest
and largest sponges he can see, and packing them as
closely as possible in the net-bag that hangs over his
shoulders.
If the trawler feels some excitement when the first
opportunity arrives of peeping into a net that has come
up from the bottom, what must be the diver’s first feel-
ing on finding himself free to roam about for an hour on
one of the world’s oldest if not richest submarine treasure-
grounds? What would not most antiquarians give to
spend an hour in such a spot, off Sicily, or Cyprus, or
Greece ?
Men can gather sponges and yet keep a watchful eye on
possible submerged treasure, and in this way very valuable
256
HAULING UP A SPONGE-DIVER
Nowadays much of the sponge-fishing off the Greek Islands is done by
‘* dressed’ divers.
HOW SPONGES ARE PROCURED
articles have often been fished up. Sometimes the diver
brings up a “surprise packet” on speculation. I knew one
Mediterranean diver who, with great trouble and at some
risk, succeeded in taking on board a mysterious iron box,
that suggested at least deeds, if not banknotes, jewels,
and bonds. When he came to. open it in the presence of
an admiring and expectant crew, he found nothing but
a ruined silk hat and a dozen collars that—insult added
to injury—were a size or two too small for every man
on board,
Meanwhile, how has our man been managing about his
breathing? The question is not so idle as might seem, for
all men do not respire alike, and inhaling air that has
been pumped down from a height of about sixty yards, is
not quite the same thing as breathing in the ordinary
way. Perhaps too much air is being sent down ; perhaps
not enough; perhaps air that has already been used is
being forced back by the fresh draught. Certainly the
jatter should not occur with a diver who knows his work ;
for the helmet contains two valves through which all foul
air can be ejected. ‘To regulate the supply from above,
one of the crew keeps his hand continually on the life-
line, and calls out the signals as they come up from the
bottom to the men who are working the pump. If the
diver wants more air he gives three sharp jerks at the
rope; if he already has too much, two jerks. From
time to time he also gives a special “all right” signal
—a very necessary precaution when he may not be ex-
pected above water for nearly an hour; for in that
time there is no telling what might happen. Apart from
R 257
HOW SPONGES ARE PROCURED
sharks, saw-fish, and sword-fish which may at least dis-
commode the diver or interfere with the gear, there is
always the possibility of something going wrong with
a man’s heart when he is at work in great depths ;
the air-valves, too, cannot be guaranteed never to get
out of order; therefore this signal is resorted to, unless
there are several divers working together on the same
spot.
When he can remain down no longer, the sponge-fisher
very carefully fastens his bag and even ropes it to his
body; then gives the “pull up” signal—one long sus-
tained pull till the hauling begins. The care that he has
expended in making his catch quite safe is explained now.
To come up in the natural position, head foremost, re-
quires a certain amount of effort on his own part; an
- awkward or half-exhausted diver may come up feet first,
or lying on his back or face; for there is no certainty
that the weights will “trim” properly when the dress is
inflated ; and that being the case, what would become of
a loosely fastened bag ?
The hauling up of a diver is not greatly different from
the hauling up of a net or a dredge, as regards the rope
and the weight; it is hard work for two men; often im-
possible for one. But there is also the tube to be seen
to, and this is where the difficulty comes in; for on the
one hand, the hauling of it should keep pace with that
of the life-line; on the other, no undue strain must be
allowed to come on it. At last the weird, black figure
appears, totters up the ladder and waits while the men
lift him on board; then off comes the helmet, and then—
258
HOW SPONGES ARE PROCURED
but we all know what the first breath of unimpeded air
is after we have been confined in a close atmosphere ;
multiply the pleasure of that by a hundred. But use is
everything ; in a few moments our diver will be off to
the bottom again.
Dredging for sponges is probably a less-known branch
of the trade; it forms the winter industry of the Greek
fishermen of Asia Minor and North Africa,—winter,
because then the equinoctial and autumn storms have
had plenty of time to tear up the seaweed which would
otherwise fill up the dredge, or hamper the movement of
the gear.
The dredge is worked from a large sailing-boat, in most
cases the tow-line being fastened to the bowsprit. Gen-
erally speaking it is only used in water that is too deep
for the divers; but, in the island of Syme—one of the
chief centres of the sponge industry—and on parts of the
Syrian coast where the sponges sometimes lie close in to
shore, it is shot from a large rowing-boat and hauled in
from the beach. This dredge is a formidable-looking
arrangement; imagine an immense packing-case three
feet high, and about eighteen feet square ; bigger round,
that is to say, than a room of average size; open at
the top, and having a large net-bag hanging from the
bottom. The meshes of this net are four inches square,
and are made of camel’s-hair cord as thick as a man’s
finger.
This unwieldy apparatus is thrown overboard on a good
sponge-ground and towed gently along as if it were a
trawl, the boat drifting wherever she likes. Like a trawl,
259
HOW SPONGES ARE PROCURED
too, it is hauled up, two or four bridles connecting the
tow-line with the frame. As the sponges are taken out,
they are squeezed dry and thrown in the hold, and the
dredge is dropped overboard again.
It will easily be understood that such an awkward
method of working would not be much favoured by fisher-
men who are lucky enough to find sponge in moderately
shallow water. For those who object to the dredge and
who do not care to dive, there is still the harpoon; and
this is the favourite tackle with many of the Greek fisher-
men on both sides of the Mediterranean (for the sponge
trade of North Africa is mainly in Greek hands).
The large sailing vessels thus engaged take with them
several small boats from which the harpooning is done ;
two or three men to a boat. The harpoon is simply a
fork with a very long handle, to which an additional
handle can, if necessary, be screwed. Each boat carries
the spy-glass of which mention has already been made—
a very crude yet satisfactory means of seeing to the
bottom and discovering the lie of the ground. It is
sometimes unkindly described as a bucket with a glass
bottom, and indeed it is not much else, being a zinc
cylinder about eighteen inches high and big enough to
admit a man’s head; with a circular sheet of glass let in
to the bottom of it. When such an instrument is pushed
a foot or so below the surface a man can see through as
much as thirty fathoms of moderately clear water.
As soon as the sponge is sighted, the digging and
poking and stabbing begin, and it is surprising what very
large catches skilled men can make in this manner.
260
HOW SPONGES ARE PROCURED
Whatever may be the means chosen for obtaining the
sponge, its treatment when taken ashore is pretty much
the same. It is first rinsed and squeezed till every par-
ticle of gelatinous animal matter has been got rid of;
then it is exposed to the air for a day or two, after which
it is taken back to the water and thrown into an enclosure
made of planks and stakes, and left to clean itself. Then
it is taken out again, trodden vigorously by bare-footed
men till it is once more squeezed as dry as possible, and
finally is hung up to dry before being sent on to the
picking and sorting warehouse. These sponges, it should
be remarked, are the finer ones, used for bath and toilet ;
the cheap, coarser articles used for horse and carriage-
washing come from the American grounds; but, before
we discuss those, there is another European ground which
calls for mention.
Along the east side of the Adriatic Sea sponges are
found at almost all depths, and the fishery, which is
carried on by the Dalmatians and Croats, is in a very
flourishing condition. It is done from small boats and by
means of harpoons. ‘These men employ a similar spy-
glass to that of the Greeks, and they facilitate its use in
a very ingenious, if simple, manner. Every boat carries a
small supply of pebbles, and, when the look-out man
wishes to inspect the ground, he dips four or five of these
in oil and tosses them one by one in a curved line in front
of the boat. Each pebble, as it sinks, scatters tiny drops
all the way down, which help to clear the water, thus
affording a more unobstructed view to the spy-glass.
The Dalmatians and others have latterly taken to
201
HOW SPONGES ARE PROCURED
breeding sponge on scientific lines, which merely means
that they avail themselves of the natural reproductive
instinct of the animals which it contains. In the autumn
the seeds or gemmules which occur in the interior of the
sponge body begin to form themselves, and gradually
every seed develops into a sponge particle, which during
the following summer becomes an ovum ; and this, on be-
coming fertilised, as often as not separates from the main
body of the sponge, attaches itself to some rock or other
object, and, little by little, grows into a separate colony
of animals. By experiments, scientists have proved that
a small bit of sponge torn from the main bulk will, if
circumstances are favourable and if there are sufficient
gemmules contained in it, quickly increase in size through
the breeding of its occupants; and now the rearing
‘of sponges is as much a recognised industry as oyster
culture is.
From the coast of Florida to the Bahamas there
stretches a long and—from a seaman’s point of view—
very dangerous chain of islands, mostly of coral formation,
and known as the Florida Keys. Some of the islands are
just below sea-level, others just above; others have been
slowly worn down by the action of the water and remain
at varying heights below the surface. On and about these
reefs it was accidentally discovered that sponge had been
breeding very freely, probably for many centuries ; and so,
during the last sixty years the horse-sponge trade has
grown up—mainly on the Bahamas side of the reef; and
so profitable has it become that the islanders are now ex-
262
HOW SPONGES ARE PROCURED
porting sponge to the annual value of nearly a hundred
and twenty thousand pounds. The beds extend over
several thousand square miles, and are, in all reasonable
probability, inexhaustible.
Here sponge-diving is almost unknown; what need,
when in many cases the sponges grow so close to the sur-
face that it looks as if you could gather them with your
hand? Instead, the fishermen use the harpoon, or a
hooked form of it; a three-pronged rake, we might better
term it. Every week a fleet of schooner-rigged boats, of
any size up to twenty-five tons, sets off from the shores
of a few of the islands, each carrying several two-men
dinghies or dories, like those used by the Newfoundland
cod-fishers, and manned largely by negroes. While the
ships lie at anchor the little boats pull about over the
reefs, the sponge-hooker lying over either stern or bows,
and snatching at everything that looks promising.
Hooking here requires far greater care and skill than in
the Mediterranean, for everybody knows how soft horse-
sponge is, and how easily torn. ‘The aim is to slide the
rake immediately between the rock and the root of the
sponge, and so wrench it bodily off.
At the end of the day the dinghies pull back to their
schooner, and the sponges are stowed away on board.
After a week of good catches the fleet is able to return
and land the cargo, if “land” may be allowed to mean
bringing the sponges in to shore by the boat-load and
throwing them straight into the “crawl,” as the West
Indians call the staked enclosure such as has been
described. Here the sponges lie a few feet under water,
263
HOW SPONGES ARE PROCURED
and for a week or two are periodically squeezed and
rinsed; then they are thrown on the beach to dry, and
are packed for sending away.
The people of Queensland too are now developing a not
inconsiderable trade in sponges.
264
CHAPTER XXI
DOLPHINS, PORPOISES, AND
MANATEES
The dolphin—Misconceptions about it—Dolphin-catching among the
Faroe islanders—Fresh-water dolphins : the Inia and the Soosoo—
The grampus—Porpoises—Fishermen’s hatred of them—The nar-
whal—Its tusk—An Iceland narwhal-hunt—The Greenlanders’
method—The Caaing whale and the beluga—Trapping and seining
belugas—The dugong and the manatee—A manatee-hunt.
HE cetacean family includes many water monsters
AR that, though scarcely classifiable under the head
of whales, are hunted or “fished” for in much the
same manner, and generally for similar reasons ; such are
the dolphin, the porpoise, and the like. These have in
common with the whale a fish-like form and a horizontal
tail, and like them belong to the mammalia. Let us take
the dolphin first.
One very interesting point in connection with this
animal is that in appearance it is very unlike the popular
conception of it; and for this there is a good reason.
Classical mythology practically raised it to an object of
worship. Neptune, said the Greeks, turned himself into
a dolphin on a certain occasion; so did Apollo; there-
fore temples that were dedicated to either deity were
265
DOLPHINS, PORPOISES
more often than not ornamented with representations of
the sacred sea-beast. Many of these images were at first
very roughly executed; sculpture had not yet reached
the high perfection which it subsequently attained, and
probably none of the artists had ever seen a dolphin very
near. The later sculptors were too loyal to the work of
their predecessors as well as too much bound by tradition
to attempt to alter or improve on the generally accepted
idea of what a dolphin ought to be, and so century after
century went by, still leaving the people under the im-
pression that it was a sort of dog-headed fish.
So far from its head being round, it has a much longer
and sharper muzzle than the porpoise, and has been
known from time immemorial among the French fisher-
men as the bec d’oie or goose-bill. Its average length
is a little over seven feet. It has a most shark-like
appetite, and will not only gorge itself on fish, but will
make a meal of an elderly, or wounded, or dying brother ;
and, as its mouth is furnished with about a hundred
and eighty long, pointed teeth, it is well equipped for
such a repast. The home of the common dolphin is the
Mediterranean and the North Atlantic; but varieties are
found all over the world, the largest known species being
the grampus, which may be seen anywhere north of our
own shores.
The dolphin has blow-holes or spiracles; but, unlike
those of the whale, they are joined together so as to
make but one opening, which is placed a little above the
eyes. In colour it is black, gradually shading off to
white under the belly; in addition to its flippers it has
266
AND MANATEES
a long pointed back-fin, and so swift are its movements
that it is sometimes called the Sea Arrow.
In days gone by, sailors and fishermen credited the
animal with all the ferocity and voracity of the shark,
and told weird tales of shoals of them pursuing a boat
for the sake of a meal of human flesh, making wild dashes
and jumps to seize the crew, even leaping on board after
their prey, and being deprived of it only after a battle in
which axes and guns figured.
This belief has died hard, for the reason, I suppose,
that “a lie that is half a truth” is harder to fight than
“a lie that is all a lie.” For the dolphin does swim after
ships and boats, and he does jump aboard sometimes,
though not with the intention of attacking the crew.
He is an exceedingly astute being, and has discovered
that from time to time a good deal of waste food
and rubbish is thrown overboard, and that this attracts
the fish in great quantities; fish that under ordinary
circumstances would elude him by their swift dodging
or by diving into the mud; therefore, because a boat
generally means a meal, he will follow it for miles. As
to his jumping on board, he may do that out of sheer
playfulness, or by accident, when springing up in pursuit
of a fish that has leapt into the air in order to escape
him.
His extreme fondness for the flesh of the various flying-
fish is well known. In the warmer parts of the Atlantic
he will spend his entire day in hunting them; leaping up
after them and sometimes snapping them in mid-air ;
lying in wait just below the surface at a spot where one
267
DOLPHINS, PORPOISES
is likely to fall, or dogging one particular fish till he has
thoroughly tired it out. In leaping or springing he closely
resembles the salmon, curving his tail round as far as he
can, and then “ letting himself go.”
The special hunting-ground for these creatures is on
the east coast of Stromé, one of the Faroe Islands. Here,
from July to December, the dolphins come into shallow
water; you may almost say that they lie about on the
shore. Usually they come in detachments of from three
to four hundred, under the guidance of a few old males.
The islanders are strangely lethargic over their fishing,
considering that they are of Norwegian descent; they
sadly neglect their opportunities with the cod and other
fish, and few of them will pursue the dolphin except when
the work is thus made easy for them. Then bands of
men armed with clubs, spears, or axes go down to the
beach before daylight, and lie in wait behind the rocks
till dawn, when the animals begin to come in to shore.
At a signal whistle, every one springs out and lays
about him vigorously. It is tame work, for the poor
creatures are far too much surprised and terrified to offer
resistance, and those that cannot flee are soon killed.
Then the women and children come down and, with the
men, haul the carcasses on to the higher ground where
they cut them up. The “train-oil” from them is taken
away by the steamers that call periodically at Thorshavn.
It may not be generally known that there are two or
three species of fresh-water dolphins, by which I do not,
of course, mean such as may sometimes swim up the
rivers from the sea in search of food, or for other reason,
268
DOLPHIN HUNTING
A ayourite hunting-ground or dolphins is on Stromé, one ot the Faroe Islands.
Here, from July to December, they come into shallow water or lie about on the shore,
and bands of men armed with axes and spears lie in wait for them behind the rocks,
AND MANATEES
but those which live wholly in fresh water. One of them,
the Inia, inhabits the upper waters of the Amazon and
some of the lakes round about; its length varies from
seven to twelve feet, and it differs little from the common
dolphin except in having a longer and more pointed
snout. ‘The Indians and Bolivians pursue it for the sake
of its flesh and its valuable oil. Before daybreak a small
fleet of canoes will set off up the river and, hiding under
the gloomy, overhanging trees, wait for the inia to come
up to feed. As soon as one of them appears, two or
three harpoons are launched at it, for only by swift kill-
ing can the men hope to make a fairly good catch. The
animals do not come in shoals; seldom will there be more
than a dozen in one place, and at the least noise these
will dive, reappearing nobody knows where; so the
fishermen dare not use guns. All the harpoons thrown at
one animal must come from the same boat, for he is not
averse to doing a little towing, and though if he found
three boat-loads moored to him he could not do them
much harm, the noise he would make would alarm the
other animals, and spoil the chances of the remaining
boats. When a boat has killed her catch she paddles
silently and rapidly away, towing the inia close behind,
a man being stationed in the stern with a long lance to
keep off the alligators that might try for a mouthful of
the carcass.
A very similar cetacean of the same size, called the
Soosoo, is found in the Ganges, where it affords amusement
to British sportsmen, and profit to such of the Hindus as
take the trouble to hunt it.
269
DOLPHINS, PORPOISES
The giant of the delphinide, the grampus or gladiator
dolphin, reaches a length of twenty and even five-and-
twenty feet ; is one of the most voracious of the tribe, and
is found in various of the northern seas, travelling in
quite small herds. Such a herd will collect round a
whale, and between them kill and eat it. Sometimes they
vary their tactics; surround the whale, hustle and bully
it, drive it backwards and forwards for a whole day or
more till it is dead beat, and then, between them, tear out
and devour its tongue. The strength of the grampus is
proverbial, and when a harpoon is fixed in it, it will make
no difficulty of towing a boat-load of men for several
miles before it is tired out. Many years ago a small
grampus was seen in the Thames near Blackwall. Four
men rowed after it and pierced it with three harpoons,
and just when they thought their capture safe and their
task finished, the powerful young beast started off full-
speed up the river against a tide that was running eight
miles an hour. After a couple of miles it dived, and then
came to a dead stop, seemingly exhausted, and the oars-
men pulled triumphantly towards it, expecting to find it
dead ; but, as they came within about a fathom of it, the
grampus suddenly shot away again, scarcely seeming to
notice the pull of the boat when the rope had run taut
again, and swam beyond Deptford—another three miles—
before it would own itself conquered. <A full-grown
grampus would probably have towed thrice the number of
men to Twickenham, and then been prepared to run them
back again to Tilbury or Southend.
Probably most readers have seen porpoises, if only at a
270
AND MANATEES
distance, for big shoals of them frequently put in an
appearance close to the shore: Hunstanton and the neigh-
bourhood is a good place to see them. ‘These animals
bring out, as strongly as anything, the fisherman’s rooted
belief in the Infernal Powers as a creative force. ‘The
Almighty never could ha’ made sich varmints as them,”
observed a really saintly old salmon-fisher who was giving
me an account of their depredations among the Nor-
wegian salmon. And indeed the porpoise’s appetite for
these fish is so insatiable that it will pursue them up the
rivers. For a small shoal to take a trip up the Seine as
far as Rouen is a mere nothing; it is a matter of history
that they have been seen even beyond Paris. Nor is it
only the salmon that appeals to their greed. Ask the
herring and mackerel fleets their opinion anent the por-
poise. It breaks up the shoals, rushes like a bull at a
gate against a fleet of herring-nets, with disastrous results
to the owners, and harries the mackerel literally to death.
It is the smallest of the cetacean tribe; one of them
that measured five feet from tip to tail would be of
average size. It has a dolphin-like body, though with
rounder muzzle and head. A shoal of porpoises is like an
immense black shiny patch on the water; so closely do
they crowd together and in such vast numbers, that it is
difficult to understand how they can move at all. They
exhibit all the love of playing and gambolling that is
seen among the dolphins, and as much curiosity as a fish
or an Arab; hence perhaps some of the gruesome nurse-
maid tales about the “sea-horses” that swim after and
devour the unwary bather.
271
DOLPHINS, PORPOISES
Though the animal is so valuable, there is little system-
atic porpoise-hunting nowadays except among the Lapps
and Greenlanders. If a whaleboat should happen to fall
in with a shoal, it will harpoon as many of them as it can
without going out of its way, and the Norwegian fisher-
men will shoot or spear them in the same spirit in which
a gamekeeper sends a charge of shot after a stray dog or
a weasel, But in the Middle Ages porpoise-hunting was a
fashionable sport in England and France: the meat was
highly esteemed, and in Henry VIII's time it was even a
royal dish, The Greenlanders still eat and enjoy it;
they hunt it with light harpoons, and the catches are
towed ashore in great quantities.
The oil, which the Greenland fishers export to Central
Europe, is obtained from the boiling down of the blubber,
which, as in the whale, lies immediately below the skin.
It is firmer than that of the whale, and usually about an
inch deep, and the oil from it requires less treatment in
the clarifying of it than any other form of cetacean fat.
The hide when tanned is exceedingly tough, and is used
largely in making hoods for carriages.
The narwhal, or sea-unicorn as it is often called, has a
dolphin’s body, but its head is shaped more like that of a
seal; the blow-holes, as in the dolphin, have but one out-
let. ‘The chief feature which distinguishes it from all the
other cetacea is its wonderful sword-like tusk, which in
reality is an elongated tooth, sometimes more than half as
long as its body (the tusk of the female is seldom more
than ten inches long), Sea-unicorn, by the way, is rather
a misleading nickname, for very frequently the animal
272
AND MANATEES
has two of these ivory prolongations, the incisor tooth of
the lower jaw being lengthened out so as to rival that
of the upper. The animal may be found anywhere be-
tween the shores of Iceland and Greenland.
The terrific power of the formidable weapon with
which it is provided may be gauged from the fact that
the narwhal on seeing a ship will make a dash at it,
thinking it to be some species of whale, and, if the vessel
be of wood, will drive its tusk right through her side or
stern. ‘The result to the narwhal is not pleasant ; if it
should succeed in piercing the side of the ship, the tusk
will be snapped off by the force of her motion; if the
stern, the animal will become as much a fixture as a nail
driven into a fence, and will be towed along and starved
to death. From this it may be imagined how much
chance a whale stands against a shoal of sea-unicorns.
Yet, in spite of their fierceness, they play together as
merrily as dolphins.
The Icelanders use large, heavy rowing-boats in pursu-
ing the narwhal. “ Pursuing” is scarcely the right word
in this case, because a boat might chase a narwhal till
doomsday and never come up with it, for when the animal
is alone its pace is something like that of a salmon. If,
however, he should meet a friend, though fifty boats were
after him he would still want to stop and fence with his
tusk and play about for a while.
But as a rule they swim in enormous shoals, making
but little progress, fishing or playing in long irregular
lines about the Iceland fjérds. The fleet of boats—each
with a crew of about five—lie in hiding among the rocks,
S 273
DOLPHINS, PORPOISES
waiting for a shoal to come within reasonable distance of
the shore; and as soon as the long straggling lines are
close enough, the boats dash from their hiding-place and
glide swiftly and silently between the rows.
Then all in a moment there is confusion and panic
among the shoal; for narwhals are only courageous against
a passive foe, or one of their own kind; and as the long
oar-blades are whisked sharply out of the water and
everything is made clear for action, they fall back one
upon another, make one futile attempt at flight, and then
content themselves with huddling together and spouting
or groaning. In this position they are powerless to defend
themselves, even if they would, for the long tusks have
become hopelessly mixed ; sometimes half a dozen will be
thrust together like so much trellis-work, and not one of
the owners can stir. Perhaps one of the more daring of
the males will make a feeble dash at the boat, but there
is always a fisherman ready to receive him.
The fishing tackle is a pole, eight or ten feet long, with
either an ordinary whale-harpoon head fitted to it or else
a three-tined fork with barbed points. These the sturdy
boatmen work untiringly, stabbing on all sides as far as
they can reach, pitchforking the smaller carcasses on
board bodily, and leaving the others to take care of them-
selves till they can be roped up together and towed ashore.
Although they see their brethren being butchered on
all sides of them, the narwhals still make no attempt at
escape; some few perhaps will dive, but when they want
breath they generally seem to come up again in the midst
of one of the lines of struggling animals.
274
AND MANATEES
The work is often lucrative enough; but, as is always
the case with the more profitable forms of fishing, very
risky and uncertain. Sometimes, in the very heat of the
slaughter, one of the men will discover that the boat is
leaking ; it has been punctured by one of the ivory swords
round it, which, driven accidentally and with but little
force against the timbers, has succeeded in making a hole
but not in staying there to stop it up. Hlastily the few
carcasses taken on board are pushed out of the way and
attempts made at checking the leak. This however is
idle, for, by the time the men have discovered and stopped
one hole, they have realised that the water is still coming
in from other holes and that the boat must now surely
sink, With their heavy nailed boots, and their already
sodden woollen leggings, swimming will be impossible ;
and unless another boat can get at the sinking crew, there
is not much hope for them. And a boat may be ever so
near, yet powerless to help; for the very thickness of the
shoal, which under ordinary circumstances would mean
wealth to the fishermen, is now a horrible obstacle,
effectually preventing the progress of another boat
towards the unfortunates. Cases have been known of
a crew being drowned or gored to death by the terrified
narwhals while another boat was within a few fathoms of
them.
The modern Icelanders have ceased to regard the tusks
as merely useful as arrows, tent-poles, and charms ; instead
they export them, and get a very high price for them;
for narwhal ivory is harder, and will bear a higher polish,
than even that obtained from the elephant. All kinds of
275
DOLPHINS, PORPOISES
superstitions circled round this tooth or tusk in ancient
and medieval days, the chief among them being that it
was an antidote against all poisons. Even as far down as
the sixteenth century we find Charles IX of France be-
lieving that a fragment of the tooth put into his wine-
cup would counteract the effect of any poison that an
enemy might have placed there. Later all sorts of
squabbles arose among naturalists as to the use that the
tusk is to the animal; some still maintain that it is
employed solely in burrowing for molluscs which, with
skate, cod, and squid, are its food; and that its having
been found in a dead whale or a ship’s timbers is pure
accident.
The Icelanders strip off the hide and employ it in
various ways, and export the oil from the fat; this is
said to be of better quality than that from whale-
blubber. But they do not eat the flesh. The word
“nar” in Icelandic signifies a corpse; and the natives
argue that an animal does not get called “ corpse-whale”
for nothing; and they abstain. In that respect they are a
good deal more particular than some more civilised folk
who will enjoy crabs and éels which undoubtedly have a
partiality for the form of diet which the narwhal is un-
justly accused of relishing.
As the weather gets warmer the shoals swim north-
wards to the Greenland coast, sometimes in the straggling
files already described, sometimes “shoulder to shoulder,”
in one line a couple of miles long. They stay here till
driven southwards by scarcity of food, but often a small
shoal will be cut off by the suddem winter and frozen up.
276
AND MANATEES
Then a special use of the long tusk is made apparent ; as
the animals cannot remain under water altogether, they
charge upwards at the ice, and gradually succeed in
breaking open a breathing-hole, which they keep free
from the continually re-forming ice. It is at these holes
that the Greenlanders find their narwhal fishing-grounds ;
sometimes they are numerous, sometimes there will be
only one in a space of several square miles.
The fishermen collect in great numbers round the hole,
every one armed with either a gun or a three-pronged
fork, and before they have been waiting long the suffocat-
ing animals appear in hundreds. The “catching” is «
wholesale massacre; the men with the guns fire as fast
as they can, while the harpooners drive their weapons
into the dead or dying bodies and pitchfork them into
heaps on the ice.
The Greenland men have none of the Icelanders’
scruples about eating the narwhal; in fact, they regard
the flesh as a great delicacy. They cut up the
carcass into joints, which they smoke as we should
smoke bacon.
Before we proceed to the vegetable-eating delphinide,
there are two other animals we must notice—the Caaing
Whale and the Beluga, or white whale, both of them
ardently pursued by the northern fishermen, The caaing,
which the Scotch fishers call the black whale, used invari-
ably to be classed by naturalists with the dolphins, but it
is now generally regarded as a separate cetacean species.
Sailors often call it the howling-whale and the pilot-fish,
though why the latter it is difficult to say, unless on
277
DOLPHINS, PORPOISES
account of its collecting, dolphin fashion, and swimming
in shoals after the ships. In shape it is more like a very
long and very fat porpoise than anything else; it is about
the same length as the grampus, but the thickest part of
its body sometimes measures eleven feet through, so that
the animal would touch the ends, sides, ceiling, and floor
of a fairly long corridor. Its colour is glossy black,
with a white streak running the whole length of its under
side.
The Orkney whalers make good profit of this animal,
for it is easily taken, and relatively almost as valuable as
the whale itself. It is no friend to the Scotch cod-
fishers, for it eats the catch and sometimes runs off with
the tackle. The pursuit and destruction of it must
usually be regarded more as a branch of other sea trades
_ than as a separate fishery.
This is not so with the “ Greenlander’s Whale,” as the
beluga is sometimes styled. This animal seems to be a
sort of link between the caaing and the narwhal, and its
home is nearly the same as that of the former; that is to
say it belongs to the Greenland coast, but travels as far
south as the Faroe Islands, and in America is found as
low down as Newfoundland. Very occasionally it comes
down to our own coasts; about sixty years ago one of
them was captured some distance up the Medway, and one
was killed on the Scotch coast in 1815,
In length it is seldom more than fifteen feet; it has a.
broad, blunt head and no tusk, though it has about
seventeen front teeth, which generally fall out as the
beluga passes middle life. Its skin is quite white,
278
AND MANATEES
and so soft that only a well-embedded harpoon will
retain its position. Yet, strangely enough, this skin,
so soft while fresh, makes the toughest of leather
when tanned.
The Greenlanders kill thousands of belugas every
summer, and in winter the animals are caught in the nar-
whal ice-holes, at least half a dozen of them finding their
way to every hole. They are either very stupid or else
very timid and gentle, for they flee at lightning speed if
they know themselves to be pursued; they seldom offer
any resistance to the harpooners, and are rarely seen
attempting to attack any other animal, although, like the
caaing, they have no objection to snapping up a hooked
cod-fish or ling. Shoals of them are seldom seen near the
coast, generally they remain in deep water or hang about
the entries of the fjords in wait for the salmon. The
little ones and the females are, as a rule, placed in the
middle of the shoal. The young are born black, then
become pink and eventually white. The name Sea-
canaries has often been given to them because when they
are under water their bellowing is deadened to a peculiar
bird-like whistle.
The beluga enjoys the distinction of being the only
cetacean for which nets are set. At the mouths of
the fjérds a kind of salmon-trap on a large scale is
moored, and a day seldom passes without several being
caught. The Danish Greenlanders go farther than this
and make some very respectable catches with the seine.
Its meshes are made of fine rope, each opening five or six
_inches square, and the net is shot either from a couple of
279
DOLPHINS, PORPOISES
cutters or from lugger-rigged rowing boats. The oil is
sent south by Danish steamers, and the flesh is smoked for
eating, like that of the narwhal.
Some of the cetacea do not live in the sea altogether,
and some are vegetarians. There is a class which spends
much of its time in the rivers and is known by the generic
name manatid@, the two best-known specimens of which
are the dugong and the manatee; one or two species of
this class have become extinct during the last couple of
hundred years—notably the Rhytina, on which Behring’s
shipwrecked crew lived for eleven months in their island
solitude, a hundred and fifty years ago.
The dugong fishery is, among civilised people, quite a
modern industry, that has arisen on account of the
animal’s oil, which, it was discovered some years ago,
contains all the strengthening medicinal properties of
cod-liver oil. Its home is round Polynesia, the East
Indies, and Ceylon, and boat-loads of harpooned carcasses
are taken ashore by Dutch and Australian fishermen.
Many are killed in the river mouths and even on the sea-
shore, for the flippers of the manatide enable the animals
to drag themselves along the ground.
All these creatures are singularly mild and gentle in
their disposition, and maternal affection is even more
strongly shown by them than by other cetaceans, 'There-
fore the young ones are always aimed at by the
harpooners, and the mothers, instantly interposing
themselves between the young and the enemy, are easily
speared. A brutal practice obtains among the Malay
280
AND MANATEES
fishermen of harpooning a couple of baby dugongs and
towing them along as a decoy; the mothers follow and
become easy game. ‘This may be good business but it
“¢ isn’t cricket.”
The manatees, or sea-cows, or femmes poissons, show
just the same tenderness and, in addition, a peculiar
clannishness. In great herds they often leave the sea and
enter the rivers of Central and South America; a few old
males go first, then the bulk of the herd, wives and
children in the middle. If a harpoon should suddenly
dart out on them, the males try to cover the retreat of
the females, and if one of either sex be harpooned the
rest will gather round the wounded animal and try to set
it free.
But the greater part of the manatee-hunting is done
higher up the rivers. Here the animals may be seen
lying about on the weedy, muddy banks, feeding as peace-
fully as cows; yet the Indian fishermen know that this is
no place to take them, for at the first unnatural sound or
unusual sight they disappear. The harpooner must there-
fore decide upon one of three courses; either hiding in
the weeds on the bank, at the risk of being eaten by
alligators, and waiting for the chance of the manatee’s
coming up to breathe ; or walking boldly along the bank
and launching a spear at the “ cow” when it is sleeping ;
or thirdly, setting off before daylight in a canoe and
catching the animals off their guard when they come up
unsuspectingly to feed at dawn. The second method is
more satisfactory and less precarious than it sounds; for
the manatee must sleep sometimes, and does not neces-
281
DOLPHINS, PORPOISES
sarily choose the night for the purpose. When sleeping
he always floats along with the current, his muzzle above
water, and so is an easy target for the skilled harpoon-
thrower. But by such means these valuable creatures are
only caught one at a time, and the aim of the hunters is
to make a “bag”; therefore they prefer to surprise a
whole herd. %
Manatee-hunting is just the reverse of inia-harpooning ;
the latter, we have seen, must be done suddenly and
swiftly, before the capture of one of the animals has
frightened the rest away; whereas if one manatee of a
herd be struck, the rest appear in a moment. As soon
as the blood of one of them begins to flow, the others take
it as a signal that one of their kinsfolk is in trouble, and
flock round him, affording one of the most pathetic sights
in nature; all the herd moaning and crying, some trying
to drag out the harpoon, others seizing the line in their
teeth and endeavouring to bite it through. On such an
occasion the whole herd is entirely at the mercy of the
hunters, for the unwounded animals may be relied upon
not to leave their brothers to their fate.
The flesh is rich and tasty; some people say it re-
sembles beef, others that they would not know it from
pork. An important characteristic is that it will keep
firm and. sweet for a long while; no small advantage when
we bear in mind that the manatee’s favourite home is
round about the equator. ,The leather of the tanned
hide is exceedingly durable, and is now becoming costly in
Europe.
The Indian harpooners still believe many of the quaint
282
AND MANATEES
stories about this creature, which their fathers told to the
early sixteenth-century European explorers; especially
the superstition that if it finds a corpse it piously watches
over it till someone comes to bury it, or till it sinks in
the water.
CHAPTER XXII
TURTLES AND TURTLE-CATCHING
Turtles and tortoises—The terrapin or snapper—Catching turtles with
fish—The remora—Shooting with tethered arrows—Turtle-diving
—Tortoise-shell—A horrible method of obtaining it—The hawk’s-
bill—Its shell—Seining for turtles in South America—The Gala-
pagos tortoise—The green turtle—Methods of taking him.
LTHOUGH turtles and tortoises cannot be called
A fish, some account of the catching of them must
find a place in a book on fisheries, unless the word
is taken in its narrowest sense.
We have seen that when men go fishing it is either to
provide food for themselves and others, or else to procure
some substance which, though not eatable, is valuable as
an article of commerce. Sometimes the prey they seek
fulfils both purposes, as in the case of the sturgeon; and
just as from that fish the fisherman gets food plus isin-
glass, so from the turtle he gets food plus tortoise-shell.
Of the tortoise proper we shall not have much to say,
except in the case of a larger variety; for, in addition to
its generally being a land animal, its shell is seldom of
great value, and only the flesh of special kinds is eaten.
It was one of the “ unclean” animals which Moses forbade
the Israelites to eat, and judging by the smaller species,
one can conceive that they were seldom tempted to break
284
TURTLES AND TURTLE-CATCHING
the levitical law in this respect; for where the meat of
these creatures is concerned, there is no medium between
excellent and disgusting.
It is not easy to draw a sharp dividing line between
turtles and tortoises, for their charactertistics frequently
overlap; one cannot say that the tortoise belongs to the
land, and the turtle to the water, for there are land turtles
and water tortoises, just as there are inedible turtles and
edible tortoises. A generally accepted method of classifi-
cation is to divide the genus testudinata, to which both
belong, into four species: marine, land, river, and marsh ;
but for the present purpose it will be sufficient to say that
turtles have their limbs lengthened and curved backwards
so as to serve as fins or flippers which they can use when
swimming, whereas tortoises have not this feature, and
though some can live in the water they are generally
stationary while there, making little pretence at gone
anything but drinking.
The characteristics which are common to both are the
short, puffy body encased in a shell which is made up of
two shields, an upper and a lower, cemented together at
their margins. The shell is really an orderly arrange-
ment of hard plates covering everything but the head,
tail, and legs which usually are encased in a tough, scaly
skin. Both animals breathe by means of lungs. Those
that pass their lives on land live entirely on vegetable
diet, while the others frequently make the smaller molluscs
an article of their food. It is said that both can go for
months without nourishment of any sort.
The marine turtles are to be found anywhere in the
285
TURTLES AND TURTLE-CATCHING
tropical and sub-tropical regions, and sometimes even in
colder latitudes. Their weight and size are very variable ;
some of them turn the scale at seven hundredweight.
The age which they reach is still a much-disputed point ;
but satisfactory proof has been given that some have lived —
for eighty years.
Generally speaking the turtle is quiet and inoffensive ;
too well protected by Nature for it to have many enemies,
and too stupid and sluggish to offer violence. There is an
exception where the alligator-terrapin is concerned ; this,
known also as the snapper, is a fresh-water turtle found in
the pools east of the Rocky Mountains and in certain
parts of South America. It has a tail like that of the
crocodile, and is an implacable opponent of all other
reptiles, spending half its time in slaughtering young
alligators. More power to that turtle! Unluckily it is
not only one of the eatable sort, but its flesh is more
highly prized for the table than that of any other of its
kind; and therefore it is hunted down without mercy,
thus benefiting the few, when, if left alone, it would be
an advantage to the many.
The smaller terrapins, too, the red-bellied and the
vellow-bellied, caught respectively in Virginia and Florida,
are also much valued as delicacies, as is also the salt-
water terrapin of Florida and the Gulf of Mexico. Large
fresh-water turtles, three feet long, are taken from the
Ganges, Yang-tse-Kiang, Nile, and other great rivers, and
are largely eaten by the natives.
How to catch and kill animals so well shielded natur-
ally, is a problem which both savage and civilised hunters
286
TURTLES AND TURTLE-CATCHING
have tried every means of solving. A bullet is effective,
if of the right sort and fired at the right spot ; and many
Englishmen who have tried turtle-shooting in the Indian
Ocean or the Gulf of Mexico speak highly of the sport.
But men killed turtles long before guns were heard of.
How?
In his progress towards civilisation man adapts quite as
often as he invents; and just as the fisherman made use of
the wind as a means of propulsion for his boat, centuries
before engine-building was ever thought of, so he pressed
the cormorant or the gull or other animals into his
service, often before more artificial means had occurred
to him. Some of these “ adaptations,” as we know, survive
to this day, and among them the using of a fish as a
turtle-catcher. ‘There is a curious little creature called
the remora or sucking-fish, found in the Mediterranean,
the tropics, and sometimes as far north as our own coa:i
Its special characteristic is an elongated dise which cover
its head and extends over part of its body, and by meai::
of this it can fix itself firmly to any object by suction.
From the remora’s habit of clinging to other fish or to |
the bottoms of boats, it soon suggested itself as an
excellent turtle-catcher, for only very great force or care-
ful leverage can dislodge it when it has once fastened
itself on to anything; and to this use it is still put in
certain parts of the Mediterranean.
When such fish happen to be netted they are at once
placed in pots of water and carefully fed and looked after
by the fishermen ; a tight-fitting ring is fixed round the
slender part of the body just above the tail, to which a
287
TURTLES AND TURTLE-CATCHING
cord can be tied at need, and then the turtle-catcher is
ready for action.
When a hunt is about to take place the men carry a
few of the fish on board the boat in their pots, and row
off in pursuit of the first turtle they see. If the turtle
should happen to be asleep, as often happens in deep
water, a noose is slipped over his neck and he is killed by
a few blows on the head. If he be awake and swimming
with his back to the boat he will still be easy game, for
if he be not actually deaf as most fishermen assert, he is
at best very dull and slow-witted, and will often allow
the men to come within hitting distance before he
attempts to escape.
He may happen, however, to turn suddenly, catch sight
of the boat and swim calmly off in another direction.
Now is the remora’s chance, and everything depends on
how it will behave itself. As soon as the boat is within
a few fathoms one of the men throws a tethered fish; all
things being favourable it lights on some part of the
turtle’s anatomy, clings with forty-leech power, and is only
to be removed with a slip of wood or metal when the turtle
has been comfortably hauled in and made fast alongside.
But often things do not go so well; the man misses his
aim, perhaps, or the turtle happens to dive just as the
fish is thrown. ‘Then the remora is not so teachable as
the cormorant, and it may absolutely refuse to stick at
all; and the exasperated fishermen may see the turtle
swim blissfully off while the fish goes the opposite way.
Perhaps it will be drawn up clinging tightly to a bit of
sodden drift-wood; or it may choose to dive under the
288
TURTLES AND TURTLE-CATCHING
boat and take up a position on the keel whence nothing
can dislodge it, and where it will probably be crushed
when the boat is beached.
The South American Indians, in hunting the fresh-
water turtle, still use sometimes the tethered arrow,
which is supplied with a movable point; some account
of a similar weapon has been given in Chapter XVII,
and a brief description of it will suffice. The harpoon
or arrow, which is shot from a short but powerful bow,
has an iron head, the base of which fits into a wooden
peg, the other end of which is inserted in a hollow at the
tip of the shaft. A long coil of stout twine is wound
round the arrow, one of its ends fastened to the shaft,
the other to the point. The immense strength of the bow
causes the arrow-head to pierce the tough shell, and the
shock of the concussion liberates the shaft; the string—
forty yards of it—rapidly unc®ils itself and, whether the
turtle dives, sinks, or swims away, the shaft is left float-
ing. Men are waiting in their canoes and, the moment a
turtle is hit, one of them seizes the stick and proceeds to
tow the animal ashore, where, if it is not already killed, a
blow with a cudgel soon puts an end to it.
But since tortoise-shell has so greatly increased in
value, methods injurious to the shell are seldom used
except by sportsmen, and wherever we look nowadays we
shall generally see the fishermen trying to take the
creature alive, and this may be done in various ways. In
the Indian Ocean and the Dutch East Indies, whence
some of the finest tortoise-shell is exported, the islanders
still follow a plan that is at least a couple of hundred
T 289
TURTLES AND TURTLE-CATCHING
years old. Putting out to sea in stout-built sailing
canoes, the crews seek a favourable spot for their work
(and such a spot is not easily decided upon, for some of
the best turtles go sometimes hundreds of miles out to
sea), and when this is found, slow down and watch for the
first prize that appears.
On board each boat, in addition to the crew, are several
expert swimmers or divers. One at a time these stand up
in the bow, and at sight of a turtle one of them springs
overboard after it, and then the sport begins. Some-
times a dozen men from the same boat will be occupied
with a dozen turtles. On reaching one of the reptiles
the diver swings himself on to its back and sits with his
legs tucked under him, thus throwing out as little shark-
bait as possible, and gripping with both hands the edge
of the shell above the neck. ‘The frightened turtle
plunges forward or dives, the fisherman still acting the
part of Old Man of the Sea, and, whenever it is possible,
trying to guide the clumsy movements towards the boat.
Everybody, unless prevented by total immersion, is shout-
ing at the top of his voice in the hope that the noise may
drive off any sharks that may be in the vicinity, and some
of the crew stand by with guns to put an end to any such
interloper.
At last the turtle is exhausted, the boat steers towards
the diver, who, as soon as a rope is thrown to him, loops
it round the neck of his capture, and when he has seen it
towed safely alongside, dashes off towards the next turtle
that shows itself.
Sometimes one of these fellows, in spite of all precau-
290
basin Pa at
TURTLES AND TURTLE-CATCHING
tions, does get snapped up bya shark. In the case of the
divers in some localities one does not hesitate to say,
“Serve him right,” for their abominable method of
obtaining tortoise-shell from the hawk’s-bill turtle is a dis-
grace to mankind. Some inhuman wretch once discovered
that shell taken from the living animal is more easily
treated, and may be a little more valuable than that from
a dead one, and so devised a means of effecting this
atrocious purpose, which is still in use in certain islands of
the Indian Ocean.
The turtle is suspended over a slow fire, or, in some
cases, is tied down and covered with smouldering char-
coal, till the upper shell begins to curl outwards; then
this is torn off the body with knives, so that while still
hot it can be pressed flat between two boards. The
wretched creature thus not only tortured needlessly but
left for a time with no protection against possible
enemies, is turned loose into the sea again. This is
simply piling brutality on brutality, for though the shell
gradually forms again, it is thin and of poor quality and
practically valueless. The infliction of some pain is
almost unavoidable in any form of fishing; but that
there should be civilised buyers who are willing to profit
by such loathsome acts towards a defenceless creature is
a disgraceful fact. The turning loose of the turtle after
this brutal operation is a comparatively modern practice.
At one time it used to be killed when the shell had been
removed, and eaten; but the march of civilisation has
taught the islanders that the flesh of the hawk’s-bill is
flavourless and unpalatable.
291
TURTLES AND TURTLE-CATCHING
The Javanese and the islanders of Keeling and the
Celebes still eat this turtle, and are content to kill it
before removing the shell. They most often hunt it in -
shallow water, either from canoes or by wading; the
turtles are brought ashore, killed by blows, and then
immersed in boiling water till the plates are loosened.
The hawk’s-bill is scarcely one of the giants, for it
rarely weighs more than about two hundred pounds.
Although, as we have said, its flesh is hardly eatable, it
produces the best tortoise-shell in the world; it may be
found throughout the Indian Ocean and in the tropical
parts of the Atlantic and Pacific, some of the finest
coming from New Guinea. The head is of a curious
bird-like shape, whence its name.
The carapace, or upper shell, of this turtle is made
up of thirteen plates arranged in three longitudinal rows,
five in the middle and four on either side, the largest
of which would weigh about half a pound and measure
thirteen inches by eight. These are the valuable portions
of the shell. In addition the animal has twenty-four
“hoofs” or small plates, which form the serrated margin
round the carapace; but these, like the under shell, are
of comparatively little value.
Another way of catching the turtle alive is by means
of a kind of seine-net; this is the method that, among
the Gauchos and South American Indians, has almost
entirely superseded the old one of shooting or harpooning.
Generally it is only employed for the capture of the fresh-
water species, but it may sometimes be seen in use among
the negroes of the Bahamas, who work it from the seashore.
292
TURTLES AND TURTLE-CATCHING
The South Americans employ a seine long enough to
reach almost from one side of a narrow pool to the other.
The bunt is unusually deep and often has a tow-rope
to it, so that it may be used exactly like the tuck-seine
of the pilchard-fishers ; i.e. both perpendicularly and hori-
zontally. It is corked above, and lightly weighted below.
With the exception of two, all the hunters stretch
themselves round the pool as far as possible, getting as
close to the water’s edge as the marshy banks will allow ;
and with sticks or poles beat the tufts of grass and rushes
in order to frighten any of the turtles that may be
lurking there into open water. Meanwhile the two other
men have each got into a canoe, carrying the seine
between them to one end of the pool and there shooting
it, the canoes gradually separating till the net is fully
extended, the bunt-line—if used— being joined to a
longer one which is thrown ashore. As soon as the net
is in readiness the knocking and howling on the banks
is increased, and goes on for perhaps two or three hours,
the canoemen meanwhile paddling as gently as possible,
a stroke now and a stroke then, towards the far end of
the pool. As the net becomes nearly full they pull more
sharply, and when at last they can no longer stir it they
throw the tow-rope to their mates on the banks, leap
to land, and all pull together, drawing the net into bag-
form and pulling it high and dry. I have heard that
oxen are sometimes used for the towing, but cannot say
how far this is true.
Now everybody gathers round the opening of the net,
which is disposed in such a manner that only one or two
293
TURTLES AND TURTLE-CATCHING
turtles at a time can escape, and these, as they come out,
are clubbed on the head. ‘Though the mesh is a very
large one, valuable fish are not infrequently caught with
the turtles ; sometimes a good-sized alligator is also swept
in, and extinguished with a bullet or cudgel before it can
make itself in any ways objectionable.
The land tortoises of the Galapagos Archipelago,
although they are not fished for, should have a passing
mention. These spend the greater part of their time
away from the water, but visit the streams and pools
periodically, staying there about three days at a time.
They are so large that it would take six or eight men to
lift one of them, and anyone who likes can sit on the
back of one and ride at a speed averaging six yards per
minute, or a mile in five hours. On being approached
_ they draw in head and limbs and drop with a loud clatter
and a good deal of hissing; but all that the rider has to
do is to take his seat and give a few light blows on the
hinder end of the shell; then the legs come out again
and the vehicle moves on.
These reptiles are of great value in more ways than
one. The eggs, which are spherical, white, and rather
larger than those of a hen, are laid in the sand and care-
fully covered, and the natives take them for food when-
ever they can. Some of the animals yield as much as two
hundred pounds of solid meat, which is either eaten fresh
or is salted and dried for export. The fat is rendered
down into a thin oil which now commands a high price.
Unless the tortoise is really fat the natives do not kill it.
Its condition is ascertained by a small slit being made in
294
TURTLES AND TURTLE-CATCHING
the skin near the tail, and if the fat is not then found to
be thick enough, the tortoise is set free again.
Strangers in the parts frequented by the Galapagos
tortoise have, in days gone by, been very much surprised
to find well-beaten, path-like tracks leading to and from
the springs and streams; these have been made by the
tortoises in their periodical pilgrimages in search of water.
On reaching a pool or river they take in a “sea-stock”
or camel’s supply of water, which will last them till the
next visit; and thirsty travellers on meeting the animal
have often saved their lives by killing it, just as desert
wanderers are sometimes reduced to slaughtering a
camel.
The most popularly known of all the turtles is that
from which the soup is made, the green turtle, whose
home is all over the warm quarters of the world, though
it is supposed to have been found originally off Ascension
Island ; it abounds in the West Indies and is often taken
on the high seas, hundreds of miles away from anywhere.
Its flesh is a very profitable article of commerce and its
eggs are highly prized for their richness. It is the largest
of its kind, often weighing six hundred pounds and reach-
ing a length of six feet or more.
While it remains in the water the West Indian negroes
dive after it in the manner already described; but it is
often found on the beach strolling about in great numbers,
and it then forms an easy if ponderous capture. The
hunters surround a small group of them, cutting off all
retreat to the water’s edge, and then, with a batch of men
to each turtle, turn them over on their backs, This is not
295
TURTLES AND TURTLE-CATCHING
as easy as it sounds; figures are deceptive, but if we bear
in mind that a green turtle is somewhere about the size
and weight of a grand piano, we shall not only appre-
ciate the difficulty of the men’s task, but shall hear with-
out wonder that when it is once on its back the huge mass
can never right itself again and is easily killed. This,
however, is not an invariable rule among the ¢estudinata,
for the Galapagos tortoise, which sometimes weighs more
than the green turtle, is more agile, and makes no trouble
of getting back on its legs when it has been turned over.
296
CHAPTER XXIII
AFTER THE SEAL AND THE
WALRUS
The pinnipeds—The seals and their young—Seal-hunting among the
Eskimos—The seal as a fighter—The Eskimos’ summer season—
Varieties of seals—Sealing among civilised fleets—Methods—
Dangers of the work—A seal-massacre—How the seal-colonies
are founded—Sea-elephants, sea-lions, and sea-bears—The walrus
—His enemies—A big catch—Modern methods of walrus-hunting.
HE pinnipeds or fin-footed animals, under which
head are included seals, sea-lions and walruses, are
even less like fish than are the cetacea, for they
possess four legs—or members which serve as such; they
are generally regarded as the link between the land and
the water mammals; but as they spend a good part of
their lives in the water, and are shot or clubbed or har-
pooned for the sake of their skin, fat, etc., we shall devote
a chapter to these remarkable animals.
A whole book might easily be written about the charac-
teristics and uses of the seal, for its many peculiarities
seem to render it a thing apart from the rest of the
animal kingdom. It is born on land, and is even obliged
to learn to swim before it can trust itself in deep water.
Its land movements are certainly neither swift nor grace-
ful, for its funny little feet are hampered by their webs,
297
AFTER THE SEAL
and so its motions are carried on mainly by the muscles of
the body, with the result that its “walking” is merely a
series of awkward, shuffling hops; and practically the
only use its limbs are to it when not in the water, is as a
means of climbing rocks, ice, or a sloping beach. Once in
the water, however, few fish could be more swift and un-
tiring than they.
Over their little ones learning to swim, many curious
stories—some of doubtful truth—have been told. Close
observers say that the young are never driven into the water
by their parents; they maintain that these have little or
nothing to do with the swimming lessons, for the little
ones teach themselves. ‘Those that lie nearest the water’s
edge set the example to the rest by wriggling into the sea
and splashing about in an astonished, half-frightened
manner; when their heads go under they struggle up-
wards again, crawl on to the beach, and go to sleep. On
waking, they return to their task ; the same thing happens
over and over again; dip, ducking, nap—always the nap
—until the neophyte has become a proficient swimmer.
Among the seals we shall not see that touching affection
of the mothers for the young that we witnessed with the
cetaceans. ‘The fathers, or bull-seals, do indeed protect
the babies as long as they remain under their eye, but
if a little one choose to wander away from its home, no
effort will be made on the part of either parent to protect
it or bring it back.
Seals are by no means confined to the northern regions,
though they are perhaps more at home there than else-
where. Both the seal and the whale are often erroneously
298
AND THE WALRUS
supposed to cling entirely to the Arctic regions; but
there are few non-tropical quarters where some pinniped
or other may not be found. On the northern coasts of
the British Isles they are plentiful enough; they have
often been seen in numbers off the Norfolk coast even ;
and in inland seas like the Caspian or Lake Baikal,
thousands of them are to be found. River estuaries and
narrow channels are their favourite resorts, because here
the fish on which they feed are less scattered about and
more easily obtained. For their land residence, some
choose sandy beaches, well sheltered from high winds;
some go to the other extreme and prefer a rocky, un-
protected shore. In fine weather they are content to lie
about on the beach or rocks and doze; but when the
weather is rough they will scamper about and play like
children.
Among the Eskimos, sealing is almost as old as the
people themselves ; one can no more dissociate the Eskimo
and the seal than one can think of the Irish peasant
without his pig; there is scarcely an inch of the animal
that these clever Arctic folk do not utilise. The flesh is
tough and not sweet-smelling, yet they eat and enjoy it ;
they make soup of the blood, and drink such of the oil
as they do not use for heating and lighting. The skin
is, of course, made into clothes or used to cover their
kayaks and tents; the tendons become bow-strings, sew-
ing cotton and cord, and the tissues, dried and stretched,
admit a certain amount of light when fastened over the
opening of the hut.
The Eskimo has various methods of obtaining the
299
AFTER THE SEAL
animal that, when dead, serves him in so many capacities.
Often he harpoons it as he does the narwhal, in ice-holes ;
with this difference, that he, and not the hunted animal,
makes the hole. In winter time many thousands of seals
get “iced up,” just as the dolphins do; but they must
come up to breathe from time to time, although they
close their nostrils when they plunge, and though there
is a very long interval between any two respirations.
Therefore the holes which the fishermen make in the ice
are just so many seal-traps, and all that the men have
to do is to stand round the hole and spear each luckless
creature as it comes to the surface of the water, drag out
the carcass, and take it home.
When the frost begins to break up, the seals struggle
out of the water and begin to jump about on the ice or
the rocks. Then the Eskimos vary their methods of
hunting. A band of them, armed with clubs, spears, or
axes, watch the movements of a flock of seals and gradu-
ally manage to cut it off from all return to the sea; then
spread themselves round it and gradually close in. A seal
looks such an innocent, gentle beast when you see it
amusing itself at the Zoological Gardens or Brighton
Aquarium ; its merry, yet pathetic, eyes look as though
they belonged to an animal that could offer no resistance to
any persecutor, human or other ; but sealers tell a different
tale. True, it will not actually pursue a man beyond the
limits of what it regards as its own ground; but in order
to escape to the water when death is otherwise imminent,
it will make as good a fight of it as any other animal.
A bulldog is a small thing, but we do not care to be
300
AN EskIMO METHOD or SEAL-FISHING
The Eskimo has various methods of obtaining the seal; often he harpoons
it through ice-holes.
AND THE WALRUS
bitten by one, and a seal’s bite is rather worse than that
of a bulldog, and a seal has the same affectionate way of
clinging to anything that happens to come between its
teeth. Its nails, too, are not to be lightly considered,
seeing that with them it can tear a large cod piecemeal.
When the prisoners sce that there is no escape, their
first instinct is to huddle together as closely as possible ;
this is the hunter’s safeguard, for if that instinct bade
the animals open out and make a concerted attack, they
could soon tear a small body of their would-be slayers to
pieces.
Gradually the circle closes in, and the outer rank of
seals, howling with rage and fear, spring up on their hind-
quarters and prepare to do battle. ‘The springing up is
rather like the bending of the salmon or the dolphin, for
it is done by means of the backbone, which is so flexible
that the animals can bend themselves almost at a right-
angle, the upper part of the body being kept perpen-
dicular while the lower remains horizontal.
If you want to kill a seal quickly, hit him on the nose
with a stout stick—if he will let you get near enough to
him. One would naturally suppose that a long spear
would be most effective; but the seal is far from being a
fool; in nine cases out of ten he will be sharp enough to
seize the shaft between his teeth, and even if he do not
snap it, there is no getting it away from him; moreover, a
spear-point would have to be driven very deeply to do
him much harm. Often the Eskimos find that the best
plan is to let the animal occupy himself with a pole or
harpoon while they club him across the nose or head.
301
AFTER THE SEAL
In summer the hunters have a wider field, and pursue
their game in a manner that more nearly approaches
genuine fishing. In the deep bays and gulfs of the Green-
land coast, hundreds and thousands of seals may then be
seen disporting themselves. These are principally the
kind known as the Atak, or Greenland seal, distinguish-
able by their short, wiry hair that has nothing of the semi-
woolliness of the common seal about it; it isa great deal
larger than most of its brethren, often measuring from
six to eight feet in length.
The natives, seated in their kayaks, take up a position
among the floating ice-blocks, to which the animals will
sometimes flee on seeing the boats. If possible they will
try to take the seals by surprise, drifting silently in
pursuit of single individuals. Arrived within about
twenty feet of one of them, the hunter sits holding an
oar in his left hand and a harpoon in his right; to this
harpoon is attached a bladdered line, the same thing on a
smaller scale as that used by the Eskimos in whaling.
Keeping the buoyed end of the line between his knees or
feet, he throws the harpoon ; and, if it finds a good mark,
he tosses the bladder into the water. Generally the seal
dives, taking the bladder with it, but only for a moment ;
weakened by pain and loss of blood, it is less able than
usual to hold its breath, and soon comes to the surface
again, when the nearest Eskimo gives it the coup de grace
with a stick or lance. After a while the sea becomes
dotted all over with bladders, and fishing ceases for the
day ; the lines are collected and joined up in lots which
are equally divided among the kayaks, and towed ashore.
302
AND THE WALRUS
Another large animal of this neighbourhood is the
Capuchin or hooded seal, eight feet long, and possessed
of a peculiar hood-like organ above its head which it can
bring down at will over its nose. Its bite is as undesirable
as that of a mastiff, and it barks remarkably like one;
varying the bark by a long, wailing whine when attacked.
It will come further south than the Greenland seal, and is
pursued by the North American sealers as well as by the
Eskimos. Most of the skins sold in England come from
this animal. Another peculiarity that it has is the power
of distending its nostrils when diving, till they look like
two great bladders or pouches; and it can remain under
water longer than the other varieties. The Capuchin
must not be confused with the Monk-seal, or pelagius ;
this inhabits the coasts of Sardinia and the Adriatic,
and is said to be the special phocaena whose skin the
Romans regarded as a protection against a lightning-
stroke; Augustus Caesar is supposed to have carried such
a skin with him wherever he went.
The Russians, though insignificant in a general way as
fishermen, are clever and energetic sealers, but they cling
for the most part to old-fashioned methods. In pursuing
the Greenland seal they build high wooden towers, from
which watchmen posted there can tell the numbers and
movements of a body of seals; and the fishermen act
“upon information received.” Dragging small boats
over the ice, they pursue the seals to the water; though
many hunters prefer to dress themselves in long white
smock-frocks which will prevent their being distinguished
from the background of snow, and enable them to shoot
393
AFTER THE SEAL
or spear the animals almost at leisure. This practice is
probably copied from the Eskimos, who even used to go
the length of sewing themselves in sealskins and, at the
risk of being torn to pieces, crawl among a herd and kill
as many as possible with their bow and arrows.
Sealing among the British, American, Dutch, Scandi-
navian, and Japanese fleets is a most important industry,
and is carried on as systematically—if not as profitably
and with as much risk—as whaling. Good-sized ships
of 300 tons and over are fitted out for the work, each
carrying oil-tanks, boilers, etc. British Columbia alone
owns several fleets of such ships. The means of catching
depends on the neighbourhood, time of year, etc. For
open-sea work, harpooning or shooting from small boats
is the surest; and, where the fishermen are active and
industrious, two men can often garner a boat-load in a
few hours. In spring, this method is terribly dangerous
in the northern regions, for the ice is breaking up, and
huge hummocks of it are floating about; the sea is rough
or choppy by reason of the melted snow torrents that are
everywhere emptying themselves into it, and the weather
is still bitterly cold.
The greatest peril is from the floating ice; an oarsman
who knows his way about, can easily dodge a single block
that is making for him; but let him get into a current
among a couple of dozen—perhaps a couple of hundred—
of such blocks, which are cheerfully jostling and clashing
together! I am not quoting an isolated or out-of-the-way
case; such a position exists only too frequently, and the
annual list of casualties that arise in this manner is an
304
AND THE WALRUS
alarming one. In avoiding one ice-lump the boat perhaps
pulls between two others ; if she is going with the current,
well and good; she is through before the blocks can
possibly meet; but often the current is awry and broken,
and as she passes between the hummocks she finds herself
penned right and left by ice, and in front by a force of
water that she can ill battle against ; the hummocks bear
down upon her and she is cracked like a nut. If possible
the crew will scramble on to one or other of the blocks
and it may be well with them; but the hummock may
float away, carrying them out of reach of their com-
panions, to be eventually drowned or starved.
Round about the Baltic, and in parts of North
America, and sometimes in Scotland, the breeding season
among the animals is taken advantage of by the fisher-
men, for then the seals are on land and can, with care, be
taken a whole colony at a time, and shot or clubbed.
The seal, be it remembered, is one of the most intelligent
beings in existence, and all its acts and movements are
undertaken with method and system. In summer the
males, or bulls, come ashore and seek out convenient
homes for the females ; these will not arrive till nearly a
month later. The bulls which come first naturally are
able to choose the best positions—in caves, if possible ;
if not, in well-sheltered spots among the rocks. Late
comers must take their chance; they will try to take
someone else’s pitch, and a fight, sometimes to the
death, will be the result. Even the fighting is done on
systematic lines. ‘Two bulls approach each other, each one
pretending to be interested in something that is going on
U 305
AFTER THE SEAL
elsewhere ; as they come together, one will make a feint
with teeth or nails, dodge, and roll behind the enemy,
hoping to take him from the rear. After a good deal of
such fencing, one will fix the other by the “scruff” of the
neck, driving his teeth through skin and blubber, and
gripping so that only immense force can dislodge him;
and when the teeth are wrenched away, they carry off a
good deal of skin and fat with them.
When the females come ashore the fighting will have
to begin all over again, for each bull means to possess as
large a harem as possible. He goes down to the water-
edge, courteously conducts the lady of his choice up the
beach to his home, and leaves her there while he goes in
search of more wives. While he is gone another bull will
come, take the bewildered cow by the neck, and drag her
gently to his own home; this, of course, means a sub-
sequent fight. Meanwhile, the females at the water-line
have become bones of contention, and each bull’s strength
and ingenuity must be exerted to the full before he can
carry off and keep his various wives. ‘The size of the
harems depends on the fighting powers of the husbands ;
one will have five females, another thirty-five. Sometimes
one cave will contain nearly a hundred families of ten, and
in such caves the young are brought forth and suckled.
The sealers choose night time for a descent on one of
these colonies, for by day the bulls are too wary; even at
night they make some attempt at posting sentries, in
imitation of the walruses. Putting off from their ship in
small boats, the fishermen, each carrying a stout pole shod
with iron, and an unlighted torch, creep silently to the
306
AND THE WALRUS
nearest cave, and on entering, every man seeks out a place
where he can press himself as close to the rock wall as
possible. Suddenly someone strikes a match; this is a
signal, and everyone lights his torch and starts shouting.
The wretched animals, thus taken by surprise, huddle
together or rush for the entrance; and now is seen the
wisdom of each man having packed himself in as small a
compass as possible, for the stampede is sometimes terrific,
and anyone who attempted to stem it would be trodden
down and crushed to death, if not torn in pieces by the
infuriated bulls.
The first rush is allowed to pass unchecked, but when
it is over, the massacre of those that have stayed behind
commences ; and in this way an enormous pile of carcasses
is soon stacked up on the shore, ready to be taken aboard
or to be cut up on the beach.
As a rule the skins are removed there and then, and
with them the thick blubber-coat which adheres. The
depth of this coat may be anything up to four inches;
that taken from the young seal is the best and most
plentiful, for a very interesting reason.
While the bulls have been settling about their future
homes, watching them and their families night and day,
what time have they had for obtaining food? Seals live
on fish, and cannot, or will not, eat anything else; and
for two or three months the whole colony, or “ rookery,”
has been away from the chance of fishing. During all
that time the adults have sustained life by absorbing the
fat with which their bodies are so liberally supplied.
The skin and blubber thus obtained is made into
307
AFTER THE SEAL
bundles and taken aboard, though many fleets set up
their furnaces on the beach and boil the carcasses as well,
for these yield a surprising quantity of oil.
When the ships reach their own ports the blubber
is separated from the hides; the latter are dried and
salted for export to England and the States, where they
will be converted into leather, while the blubber is
crushed by machinery, steamed, exposed in open tanks to
the air and sun, and finally put into barrels.
Between Cape Horn and the Tropic of Capricorn are
various other kinds of seals. One of them, the narrow-
snout, more nearly approaches a fish form than any other,
for its claws are small and drawn together, so that they
look like the serrated edge of a fin. The roaring noise
made by this variety during the night has often deluded
sailors into the belief that it proceeded from the bellowing
of cattle on shore.
To the fishermen there are but two classes of seals,
haired and furred. Under the first head come all those
that are pursued for the sake of their fat and their hide ;
under the second, those whose thick growth of velvety
under-hair makes the animals one of the most valuable
captures that the sea has to offer. True, the fur seal has
plenty of oil of its own, but it is of so rank a nature that
it is seldom thought worth while to go to the expense of
clarifying and cleansing it.
The best fur-yielders are the seals from round Cape
Horn and those found in the Behring Sea; several
millions of the latter haunt the Alaska coast during the
season. Yet, in spite of such apparent abundance, the
308
AND THE WALRUS
fishermen observe the greatest care as to what animals
they destroy. ‘The invariable rule nowadays is, kill no
females. There need be no difficulty in keeping to this
regulation, for size is the predominant distinguishing
feature between the sexes ; whereas a well-grown bull-seal
will be seven or eight feet long, the cows rarely reach
more than four feet.
The skin is at its best when the young male has
reached nearly the age of three years. As soon as the
animals are killed the skin is removed, separated from the
fat and well coated with salt. A sealskin that has been
newly removed would be almost unrecognisable to those
who have only seen the article when worked up into a
lady’s jacket. Apparently it is a mere rough mat of
coarse, long hair. If, however, the coat be closely
examined it will be seen that the hair is simply an outer
covering to a thick mat of soft fur.
To get rid of the long hairs is easier than would appear,
for the roots penetrate far more deeply than those of the
under hair. Therefore it suffices to peel or scrape the
inside of the skin with sharp knives till the roots are cut
free and the long hairs come away like separate threads.
The skins thus prepared are shipped to London or New
York for final treatment. ‘Their value varies according to
size and fineness ; some are worth a sovereign, others as
much as five pounds. Recently South Africa has gone in
largely for sealing, and several thousands of skins taken
in the Indian Ocean are sent from Cape Town to London
every year.
Three other important members of the family are the
309
AFTER THE SEAL
sea-elephant, the sea-lion, and the sea-bear, all pursued
whenever it is possible, for the sake of their skin and fat.
These have an external ear and are otherwise distinguished
from the true seals by the formation of their limbs and
teeth. ‘The sea-elephant—or elephant-seal, as the fisher-
men call it—reaches a length of twenty-five feet and
more, and the males have a prolongation of the muzzle
which has some resemblance to a trunk. It is to be
found principally off the southern shores of South
America, but it has no objection to fresh water, and
large specimens have been shot in the rivers or on the
marshy banks or pools some distance inland. The people
of the Argentine regard the tongue of the animal, dried
and salted, as a very great delicacy, though the rest of the
flesh is uneatable. A great many elephant-seals are har-
pooned by the Antarctic whalers in the outward or home-
ward course of the ship; the oil is more valuable than
that from the whale, and the skin, though useless as “ seal-
skin,” is tanned for carriage-covers, etc.
The sea-lion is less terrible than its name suggests, and
like other seals, will only bite in self-defence. It gets its
name on account of the thick mane which covers its head
and shoulders, and perhaps by reason of its generally
savage appearance and loud, lion-like bellow. ‘Those of
the south—Chili and Patagonia—are generally snapped
up by the whalers for the sake of their oil; but the
northern lions—those from Kamchatka, the Aleutian, and
the Kurile Islands generally—become, with the seals of
that neighbourhood, the property of the Japanese sealing-
boats, large steam-craft built on European lines,
310
AND THE WALRUS
The sea-bear, a kind of fur-seal, is very valuable, and is
rapidly becoming extinct; its fur is of a pale brown, almost
yellowish tint, and this used to be exported from North
China in great quantities. Some years ago, however, the
Russians contrived to get the greater part of the trade
away from the Chinese, and they have pursued the animals
so ruthlessly that they have left none for anyone else.
The establishment of a close season for sealing has
happily now put a stop to the wholesale destruction
of such valuable animals. By agreement among the ship-
owners, almost the whole of the seal-fishery is at present
confined to the early spring.
The walrus, morse, sea-horse, or whale-horse, is easily
distinguished from the other pinnipeds by its two upper
canine teeth which, projecting downwards, form two
powerful tusks; in length it is about thirteen feet; in
shape very much like a seal; in colour from tawny to
dark red. It is only found in the northern seas—round
Kamchatka is a favourite locality—and it is hunted by
the natives or by the big sealing-fleets for the sake of its
somewhat scanty though exceedingly pure oil, and of its
tusks, which are from fifteen to thirty inches long, and
are of the finest and hardest ivory.
The use of the tusks is not primarily as a weapon, but
as a means of progress. In climbing an ice-floe the
walrus digs the points in the surface of the ice and easily
drags himself from spot to spot.
The skin is tanned and used in various manufactures, or
is cut up into thongs which are absolutely unbreakable ;
311
AFTER THE SEAL
the flesh is boiled down for oil, and the tusks come away
uninjured when the head is immersed in boiling water.
On land the animal is far more awkward in its move-
ments than the seal, though just as active in the water. It
can remain a long while below the surface, having, like all
the other pinnipeds, special reservoirs into which the over-
strained veins can discharge the blood which would other-
wise suffocate them when breathing was suspended for any
length of time. A fisherman can distinguish a walrus
from a seal at a great distance by its manner of diving;
whereas a seal sinks as naturally as a whale, a walrus
heaves up its back, rolls forward, and then disappears.
The walrus is almost a vegetarian; its throat is so
small that it could not even swallow a herring, and it lives
on seaweed, which it ekes out with molluscs scraped from
the rocks or burrowed out of the sand with its tusks. It
is of milder disposition than the seal, though a terrible
enough opponent when forced to fight for its life. Its
great enemy is the Polar bear, and in the fights between
the two animals the bear does not always win; more often
than not a bear that has been indiscreet enough to pick a
quarrel with a walrus is soon glad to retire, gored and
torn and bleeding. ‘To guard against a surprise visit
from its foe, the intelligent sea-horse places sentinels
which give the alarm by loud signal roars, at the first
sound of which the walruses all scuttle off to the water.
While on the land or on the ice they are generally careful
never to rest far from the water-line.
As a profitable occupation, walrus-catching is not what
it used to be; two hundred years ago a few English
312
AND THE WALRUS
sealers slaughtered eight hundred of them in six hours.
Such a thing could scarcely happen nowadays, for past
experience has given the animals a horror of ships and
men, except when feelings of revenge are aroused in them ;
and they seem to be steadily migrating further and
further north. Moreover, on landing, their instinct
inclines them to rocks and ice-floes which are inaccessible
to men and often to bears.
Nevertheless, the Japanese, American, and English
fleets score a pretty good total among them in the course
of a year, both land and water hunting. ‘The procedure
is much the same as in sealing, except that the vigilance
and unity of the bands make the task more difficult and
uncertain. The only very successful way of killing
walruses on shore is for the crews to sneak in as quietly as
possible, and shoot the sentries before they can give the
alarm; then to spring ashore and line up between the
water and the herd. On shore the animals are unable to
harm any persecutor who can keep them at arm’s length,
and the whole colony soon fall victims to the axes and
pikes of the fishermen.
In the water the case is altered, and the risk is so great
that many seasoned whalers and sealers will have nothing
to do with such work. The instinct of the herds tells
them when the odds are against or in favour of them; if
they are strong in numbers, and there is but one boat, the
men will do well to content themselves with what they
can kill by firing at long range. Even then a herd will
often follow a boat for miles.
When several boats are attacking, the walruses swim
313
AFTER THE SEAL AND WALRUS
away, but they can often be “cornered” on account of
their refusal to land when pursued. ‘Then when they find
themselves hemmed between boats and shore they make
a united dash for the nearest boat, and the fight is
generally a lively one. Some of the heavy tusks hook
themselves over the gunwale, and the boat is held
prisoner, while others of the herd puncture the timbers
and try to tear the vessel in pieces or drag it under ; and
it is not till rifle and axe have been plied unceasingly that
the men can regard their lives as their own.
This is but another example of the dangers and hard-
ships which are part of the fisherman’s lot. Whether
he is in pursuit of walrus or whale, codfish or herring, his
calling is a perilous one; and what he adds by his industry
to the wealth of his country is too often won at the risk
of his own life.
314
INDEX
Adriatic : oysters, 122 5 sponge-
harpooning, 26135 fisheries,
147, 150
Africa ; river fishing, 211, 212
Air-pump for divers, 256
Albicore or horse-mackerel, 153
Amber, 19, 147
Ambergris, 249
American fishermen, 25, 29,
124, 125
Anchovy, 148-150
Andalusian fisheries, 148, 149,
153
Angling, 23; salmon, 73-82;
tarpon, 82-87; among the
Chinese, 180, 181
Annam, 179, 180, 187
Antarctic whaling, 233, 245
Arab pearl-divers, 221
Arapaima, 205-207
Arcachon, 112, 122, 123
*¢ Archer,” 187
Arctic: fisheries, 217 ; whaling,
245-249
* Argentine,” 230
Armado, 207, 208
Arrows, 206, 289
Artificial breeding: fish, 70, 148;
oysters, 121: sponge, 262
Asiatic fisheries, 179-190, 212—
21
Actoalta: fisheries, 216; oysters,
122; pearls and pearl-shells,
230
Austrian fishing-fleet, 147
Bahamas, 262
Bait, 23, 26, 27, 52, 55, 1293
salmon, 75, 813; tarpon, 84;
cod, 94, 106; lobster, 168;
crab, 173
Barge, 52, 53
Beluga, 277-279
“ Bending-on,” 55
Bergen, 60, 168-170
Biscayan fishermen, 20, 233
Blue-fish, 124
Boar-fish, 151
Board of Trade, 20, 193
Boats, 24
Bomb-lance, 246
Breton fishermen, 89, 99; em-
barkation of, 91
“¢ Brisse,”’ 20
British Columbian salmon-fleet,
66
Brittany, 27, 89, 148
Brixham, 41; trawlers, 33
“* Brood,” 112
Brood-getting, 112-122
Brown’s Bank, Io!
Bulters, 58, 174
Caaing whale, 277, 278
Cachalot, 244
Cape Hatteras mackerel-ground,
126
Canadian fisheries, 20; salmon,
66
Casting-line for salmon, 74, 76
Catching fish on land, 208
Catching turtles with fish, 287-
289
Caviare, 166
315
INDEX
Ceylon pearl-fishing, 221-229;
dugongs, 280
China: fisheries,
fishing, 180-186
Christianasund lobster-fishery,
168-170
Cleaning fish, 28, 57, 67, 97,
107
Close time, 21; salmon, 71, 735
oysters, 1123; seals, 311
Cod: Iceland, 88-99; American,
100-I10
“Cold Wall” current, 103
Collecting-boats or carriers, 107,
{21,, 127, 130, 146, 202
Colony of seals, 305-307
Columbia river, 62, 64, 66
Congers, 54, 194, 195
Coral, 19, 147
Cormorants, 182-185
Cornish fishermen, 156, 173
Cowries, 19
Crabbing, 24, 173, 174
Crabs, 46, 119, 170-173; fresh
water, 173; land, 172, 173
“ Cran,” 145
Cray-fish, 170
Creels, 55
Currents, 28, 103, 168, 194, 222
Cutter-rigged smacks, 25, 41,
113, 193
Cuttle-fish, 26, 210
18635 river-
Dabs, 47
Dangers of the fisherman’s call-
ing, 28, 29, 33, 49, 90, 98, Ior,
103, 156, 237, 304, 305, 314
Danish cod crews, 89
Diodon, 209, 210
Dip-nets, 185, 189, 211
Divers: pearl, 221-227; sponge,
251-2504 . turtle, 20050
Tierra del Fuego, 211
Dogger Bank, 33, 373 54
Dog-whelk, 117, 219
Dolphin, 265-268
Dory work, 102-106
Dragonet, 150
Dredge, 27, 114
Dredging: oysters, 113-121;
mussels, 52; sponges, 259-
260
Drift-nets, 26, 137-144
Drum-fish, 212
Dugong, 280, 281
Dutch : fishing-boat, 43; fisher-
men, 43; Banks, 39; oyster-
beds, 122; whaling, 233
East Coast fishermen, 33
East Indies, 172, 204, 220, 289
Eels, 200, 201
Egypt, 204, 211
Eskimos: fishing, 217; sealing,
299-302 ; whaling, 232
Essex shrimpers, 42
Experience, 27, 28
Faroe Islands, 92, 268
Fighting-fish, 187
Finns, 69, 70
Fishermen, 27-29; attitude to-
wards strangers, 32, 33, 176
Fish-wheel, 65
“ Wive-fingers,” 56, 117
“ Fleet” of nets, 26, 140, 161
Florida, 130; Keys, 262; sponge,
262-264
Fly-crabs, 46
Flying-fish, 83, 86, 87, 210, 214
Fox-fish, 47
Fox-shark, 243
Fraser River, 60-62
French fishermen, 100, 104, 105,
125,155
French trawling, 101, 104, 105
“Fry”: oyster, 112; salmon,
2
Gaffing salmon, 80
Galapagos tortoise, 294-5
Galilee (Sea of), 151; fishing,
213
316
INDEX
Ganges, 150, 269
Garum, 150
Gear, 25-27
Gentles, 23
Gill-net, 102, 107-110, 129
Grampus, 270
Grand Banks, 20, 100-110
Greek sponge divers, 251-259
Greenland, 20; whale, 245
Greenlanders, 272, 277, 279
“‘ Greenlanders’ whale,” 278
Grilse, 62, 78
Grimsby, 39, 41, 124, 146, 191
Gulf of Manaar, 221-225
Gulf of Mexico, 82, 83, 125, 131,
287
Gulf Stream, 33
Haddock, 25, 36, 56, 152
Hag-fish, 56
Hake, 194, 199
Halibut, 56, 194, 199
Hardanger Fjérd, 68
Harpoon, 153, 235-242
Harpoon-gun, 246
Harpooning: fish, 205 ; sponge,
2603; whales, 235-242
Hatch-boats, 58, 132
Hawaiian outriggers, 216
Hawk’s-bill turtle, 291
Herring, 19, 129, 130, 133-146
Herring fishery : American, 129,
130; Norwegian, 146; British,
133-145
Historical notes, 20, 59, 60, 125,
220312825233, 200, 2712
Hooks, 19, 23, 54-56, 105
Hooking for sponge, 263
Horn-mussel, 50
Horse-power for nets, 65, 150,
154
Iceland, 93; cod, 93-98; nar-
whal-hunting, 272, 277
Indian Ocean, 187, 210, 252,
291
Indians spearing salmon, 66
Inia, 269
Irish fisheries, 41, 147, 191-202
Irish fishermen, 193; salmon-
fishing, 74-80
Isinglass, 166, 213
**Tslandais,” 98, 102
Italian fisheries, 148
Ivory: narwhal, 275; wauirus,
311
Japan: fisheries, 188-190; seal-
ing, 304
* John Dory,” 151
Jotunfeld, 68, 81
Jumping salmon, 60, 61, 66, 81
Junks, 186, 188
Keeling Island, 172
Kent Flats, 112
Kentish fishermen, 29, 113
Kuro shiwo current, 66
Labrador current, 103
Lapps, 69
“Last,” 145
Law as to salmon, 70, 71; crabs,
174
Levant, 152, 251
Life on board a smack, 34, 35,
QI-97
Lines and line-fishing, 25, 53-
585 155
Ling, 199
Lobsters: Colonial, 168; Nor-
wegian, 168; pots, 167-168
Lorcha, 186
Lowestoft, 33, 124, 191
Luggers, 24, 134, 193
Lug-sail, 24, 176, 186
Lythe, 136, 137
Mackerel, 124
“Mackerel guide,’
?
or gar-fish,
195
Magna Charta, 20, 70
Maigre, 151
317
INDEX
Malacca, 179
Malay : fishermen, 173; pirates,
186, 215
Manatee, 281-283
Manatide, 280
Mango-fish, 213
Man overboard, 198
Massacre of seals, 309
“ Maze,” or ‘* Mease,” 145
Mediterranean : fish, 148-155 5
sponge, 251-262
Menhaden, 132
“‘ Mermaid’s Glove,” 251
Migration : anchovy, 148 5 mac-
kerel, 127; salmon, 60-62
Moored-nets, 27, 63, 66, 69, 72,
107,110,150
Mother-of-pearl.
Mullet, 130, 150
Murex, 19
Mussel, 50-53; fresh-water, 220;
pearl, 230
See Nacre
Nacre, 218-219, 230
Narwhal, 272-277
Natural salmon-traps, 63, 68
Nets. See Moored-net, Drift-
net, etc.
Newfoundland, 100, 107, 278
Nile, 211-212
Norway, 67, 81, 168
Norwegian : salmon-fishing, 67—
69, 81, 823 whalers, 92, 234,
245
Oil: cod, 88; dugong, 280;
seal, 299; porpoise, 272;
shark, 152; sturgeon, 166;
whale, 245, 249
Oyster, 19, 111-1233 beds, 121,
123; pearl, 220, 2213; varie-
ties, 122
“¢ Oyster-catcher,” 123
Oyster-catching, 122
Packing pilchards, 163
Pearls: fixed, 228; loose, 229
Phosphorescent track of fish,
127, 136, 140
Pilchard, 148, 156-164
Pilchard-seine, 158-162
Pilot-fish, 152
Pinna, 155
Pinnipeds, 297-314
Piracy, 104
Porpoises, 135, 215, 270-272
Portuguese fishermen, 20, 125,
186
Pots, 27, 1675 crab, 173, 1743
lobster, 170; whelk, 177
Prawns, 50
Private grounds, 71, 121
Proas, 215
Puget Sound, 62, 63
Purse-seines, 126, 127
Push-nets, 23, 42
(ueen Charlotte Sound, 63
Queensland, 168
Rafts, 24, 180-185
Ray, 200
“Red snappers,” 131
Registration of nets, 70, 158
Remarkable hauls, 77, 127
Remora, 287-289
Re-stocking oyster-beds, 113,
122
Rod-and-line fishing, 23, 73-87
Rorqual, 243
Russian sturgeon-fishing, 164-
166; sealing, 303
St. Ives, 156-158
St. Peter and the tribute money,
151
Sampan, 188
Sardines, 148, 163
Saw-fish, 152
Scandinavian fishermen, 29, 67
School of whales, 237
Schooners, 25, 101
Scotch fisheries, 33, 52, 1343
salmon, 71
318
INDEX
Sea-bear, 311
Sea-cat, 196
Sea-cow, 281
Sea-elephant, 310
Sea-horse, 271, 311
Sea-lion, 310
Sea-mouse, 119
Sea products, 19
Sea-serpent, 214
Sea-spider, 119
Sea-swallow, 69
Sea-urchin, 118, 119
Seals, 297-311
Sealing, 189, 304-311
Seasons for fish: cod, 89;
mackerel, 125; salmon, 74;
shrimps, 43; herring, 133;
lobster, 169; mullet, 130;
pilchard, 157
Seines, 26, 64, 68, 71, 148, 149,
279
Seine-boat, 158
Sharks, 124, 127; skin, 152;
oil, 152; teeth, 19
Shark-charmers of Ceylon, 226
Shrimps, 23, 42, 44, 503; boil-
ing, 48, 49; opossom-shrimp,
217
Shrimping, 42-49
Shoals: herring, 135; mackerel,
126; pilchard, 157
Shore-weirs, 124, 128
Siam, 180, 187
Sicilian fisheries, 153, 154
Signalling the shoals, 158
Signs of a shoal, 133, 149, 153,
157
Skate, 19, 200
Skins, 196
Slaughtering tunny-fish, 154
Smacks, 25, 33
Smolt, 62
Snapper turtle, 286
Sogne Fjérd, 68
Soles, 19, 56, 117, 193
Soosoo, 269
South African fisheries, 168, 309
South American fisheries, 204-
211
South Sea Islands, 215
Spain, 122, 148
Spawn: salmon, 61; cod, 89;
oyster, 112; whelk, 175
Spawning time: cod, 107; sal-
mon, 60-62; oyster, 1123
mackerel, 130; tunny, 153;
pilchard, 157; sturgeon, 164
Spearing: fish, 205, 212; mnar-
whals, 274; turtles, 289
Sperm whale. See Cachalot
Sperm oil, 249
Spermaceti, 249
Spitzbergen, 20, 233
Sponge: diving, 251-258 ; hook-
ing, 263; dredging, 259
Spy-glass for sponge fishing,
260
Squid. See Cuttle-fish
Stake-nets, 71
Steam-trawling, 4o
Sterlet, 165
Stop-seines, 159
Stow-nets, 72
Stromé6: dolphin-hunting in,
268
Sturgeon, 20, 164-166
Sucking-fish. See Remora
* Sulking”’ salmon, 79
Superstitions among the fisher-
men, 104, 118, 119
Sweep-nets, 71
Sword-fish, 152
Tackle: salmon, 74, 75; tarpon,
4
Tarpon, 82-87
Taxing of salmon-nets, 72
Terrapin, 286
Testudinata, 285
Thunder-fish, 211
Tierra del Fuego, 210
Torpedo or electric ray, 155
Tortoises, 285
' Tory Island, 202
319
INDEX
Transplanting : “brood,” 113,
122; mussels, 52
Traps: beluga, 279; eel, 201
Trap-nets, 69
Trawls, 26, 34
Trawling, 30-41; Irish, 194-199
Tropics, 83, 308
** Trots,” 174
“‘Tucking,” 162
Tunny, 153-155
Turbot, 19
Turtle, 147, 284-296
Typhoid from oysters, 123
Tyrian purple, 19
United States, 20; fish, 132;
fishermen, 29, 104, 124, 1253
fishing stations, 124; fisheries,
124-132; treaty, 21
Walrus, 311; hunting, 311-
314
“Wash,” 120
Whales, 231, 232
Whaling, 234-249
Whalebone, 243
Whelks, 174-178; red, 123,
8
17
Whelk tingles, 123
Whelk-boats, 176
Whiting, 47
Wind, 84, 222
Xebecs, 149
Yarmouth, 33, 19!
Yawls or yawl-rigged smacks,
24, 33, 91
WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD.
PRINTERS, PLYMOUTH
Live Music Archive
Librivox Free Audio
Metropolitan Museum
Cleveland Museum of Art
Internet Arcade
Console Living Room
Books to Borrow
Open Library
TV News
Understanding 9/11