A TRIP IN A TRAWLER.
IT was on a dull and cloudy morning, but with promise of a fine day withal, that we hurried down at seven o'clock to the Barbican at Plymouth. A perfect fleet of trawlers, with sails hanging loosely about their masts, were noiselessly gliding out of the harbour. The smartest-looking craft of them all, the Coquette, was the one which had invited AR to be her guests for the day, for your trawler is no vulgar merchantman, and scorns to receive anybody but visitors in addition to her regular crew. The Coquette, Captain Tilled, is the finest vessel of her kind which bails from the port of Plymouth, and had recently won the first prize at the regatta. She is seventy-two tons' burden, and "sails like a witch." With all her ordinary sails set she quickly passed all her rivals and left them far behind. Out of the hun- dred and fifty trawlers which belong to Plymouth, there, are several that fall but little short of the Coquette, for the fishing vessels of the present day as far surpass those of twenty years ago as the modern clipper ship surpasses the old Margate hoy. Each crew consists of three men and a boy. They are a superior class of fishermen, and have generally—the captain nearly always—a share in the vessel in addition to their wages, the amount of which depends upon their success in fishing. The vessel takes three-sevenths of the whole net profit, and the remainder is divided as follows :—One share and a half to he captain, one share each to the other two men, and a half-share to the boy. The title by which the captain is familiarly addressed varies curiously. For some years consecutively he is styled "Skipper," which appella- tion in course of time gives way to " Uncle," to be in turn superseded by "Old Man." Our skipper—for that is the term in vogue just now—having most cordially welcomed us on board, "rigged up" a comfortable seat, consisting of a broad plank laid on inverted fish-tubs and covered with rugs, and served us some excellent coffee. As we sailed across the magnifi- cent Sound, the picturesque expanse of the Three Towns astern, the glowing cliffs of Studdon Heights on our left, and the bright green lawns of Mount Edgcombe overshadowed by noble trees growing down to the level of the water on our right, he proceeded to explain the mechanism of the Trawl net. This net is about one hundred feet long, and thirty-five feet in width at the mouth, which is fastened at the upper edge to a huge wooden beam of the same length and of the thickness of a man's body in the middle, but tapering slightly towards both ends. This beam is supported at each extremity by an iron frame, which keeps it at a height of four feet from the bottom when it is being dragged along the ground. These frames are called the trawl heads, and from them two ropes are fastened to the trawl warp which tows the net, and passes over the side of the vessel near the stern. The lower edge of the mouth of the net, which drops con- siderably behind the straight line of the upper edge and the beam, is fastened along its whole length to a stout rope, as big as a man's arm, termed the ground rope. The net gradually tapers away to a point, and some yards from the end a screen of netting drops across the net called the "door," and forms a kind of huge trian- gular pocket. The bottom of the trawl-net itself is protected by several thicknesses of old nets, denominated "rubbers," which, as they become worn out, are constantly replaced by fresh ones. As the net is towed along, the ground rope first touches the fish, which, springing up, is stopped by the overhanging beam, and so passing onwards and inwards, strikes against the door, that swinging open to receive it, closes again and prevents any chance of escape. The rate of sailing is usually three miles an hour, and the net remains down for periods varying from four to fifteen hours, depending on the time most convenient for disposing of the fish on shore.
As may be imagined, it is not all fish that comes to the net, and a curious museum might be formed of the odds and ends the I trawlers haul on deck,—fragments of clothing, pieces of wreck, bottles, and all sorts of utensils, and now and then even portions of dead bodies. These last are immediately thrown overboard, and nothing is said about them, lest inquiries should be made with a view to a coroner's inquest, and the sale of the fish interfered with thereby.
The men lead a hard life, leaving home on Monday morning and never going ashore until Saturday night, only putting into port at intervals to land their fish and starting back again for the fishing- ground immediately. "We never stop out on Sundays if we can anyway help it," said our skipper, " for we go home and have a good wash and change our clothes, for while we are at sea no water goes near our skin, except the spray which comes in over our bows." Though they have comfortable berths and bedding on board, they never use them ; but throw themselves down, in their clothes, on the deck or on the benches in the cabin. The space below the deck is divided into three compartments,—the cabin ; the hold, for stowing fish - tubs and baskets called "mavens," and the fore-cabin, for storing spare sails, spars, cordage, &c. While the above description was being given us, we had left the Breakwater far astern, and were approaching the fishing- ground, which is about ten miles from the land. As there was but little wind, the square sail and stern sail were hoisted up and set, the former a huge expanse of canvas contain- ing some three huudered and seventy yards. This having been done, the trawl net was let go, the tiller unshipped, and the vessel being left to steer herself by the net and drift with the tide, the men threw themselves on the deck, and pipes and chat became the order of the day, the chief staple of conversation being afforded by fishing anecdotes. One of the crew, answering to the name of "Carotty Bob," a sobriquet bestowed upon him in honour of the flaming bristly stubble which crowned his sconce, came out ex- ceedingly strong, especially with sundry smuggling stories, of which not he himself but " feyther " was the hero. This was one of them :—" Feyther used to live at Downderry, just in round Rome Head, on the Cornish coast, and he used to do a deal of smuggling, along with Farmer Treffry. Well, one night there was a heavy cargo of brandy and 'baccy run ashore, and there were a great many extra hands employed ; amongst them, several strangers. There was one man in a green smock-frock, who had been working on Farmer Treffry's farm for a day or two before, and he made himself uncommon busy to be sure, in fact, he was the best hind of the lot. Well, the stuff was all safely stowed in different places, when early in the morning the officers came and nabbttl it all and everybody that had helped to run it. You see the man in the green smock-frock was an exciseman sent down from Lunnon on purpose to catch Farmer Treffry. Well, feyther, he had six months in Exeter Gaol, and when he came out, he swore he'd have nothing more to do with smuggling. And he never did."
By this time the clouds had cleared away ; and with the sun shining brilliantly overhead, and the sea smooth as a mirror below, the time passed pleasantly away until about noon, when we began to cast longing looks towards the well-filled hamper which we had brought with us. The skipper, interpreting our glances, informed us that he could not permit us to dine on our own provisions, but expected us to share his dinner. This was not long in making its appearance, and was served in state on an inverted fish-tub. First came a lordly leg of mutton boiled in sea-water, —and no one who has not been fortunate enough to taste it can have any idea what a delicate morsel that homely joint becomes when served it la Neptune. Shades of Kitchener, Glass, and Soyer, there is one
gastronomic delight that you dreamed not of ! Then there were magnificent potatoes with their jackets on, a dish of cabbage, and " figgy puddings" served up in the basins in which they had been boiled, and which it is the West-Country fashion to eat with the meat. "Sorry we have nothing better to offer you, gentlemen," said the skipper, "but that's the dinner we always have at sea."
"A dinner fit for a lord," interposed Carotty Bob, who was look- ing on, but whom bashfulness prevented "falling to until the gentlemen had finished." That was not soon, however, for, what with the aforesaid dance Neptunienne, and that most ancient and best of condiments, hunger, we all declared we had never made a better dinner in our lives. "And now," said our friend P., "we will smoke such a pipe !" Glasses on board there were none, and we were obliged to discuss our Bass and our sherry with the aid of large teacups. The fishermen never take any beer or spirit to sea with them, but drink coffee or tea, as they find they can do their work better with beverages that are not intoxicating.
Our crew were all temperate men, and Carotty Bob in particular declined our offers of "something to drink," for he confessed, with
a somewhat sheepish air, that he had "got tight on shore about three months before, and made a fool of myself, and therefore promised the misses not to drink anything for a year to come." Soon after dinner we drifted close to a large flock of gulls busily engaged in superintending a " school " of mackerel. "These are the best fishermen," cried out "friend Robert," who was evidently the wit of the party. And shortly afterwards, when we came close to a guillemot—called " mur " by the sailors—floating solitarily along, but diving out of sight at our approach, our joker exclaimed, " Ah, he's gone in and shut the door after him !"
The bright afternoon sped swiftly on, and the time approached for hauling in the net. Our improvized couch was cleared away, and tubs and baskets got ready for their legitimate use. The winch was manned, and we all took our turn at the handles as the tow-rope came slowly in. In about half an hour the beam made its appearance at the side of the vessel. Inch by inch it rose, the strain was enormous, and a small guy rope which led from the net to the stern " parted " in the middle with a loud snap. There was undoubtedly a great catch of something or other. Inch by inch rose the beam, but no fish were visible, because they were all in the "pocket." At length, as we peered over the side, a dull white mass began to be perceptible looming dimly up from the depths of the sea. Soon some few fish could be descried swimming about and endeavouring to escape through the meshes of the net, but the great white mass still remained opaquely dull and motionless. The pocket come up alongside the rigging, and there, owing to the snapping of the guy rope, stuck fast. But Carotty Bob was equal to the emergency. Springing lightly on the gunwale, and holding on to the rigging with both hands, he pushed with all the strength of his broad back against the slimy net. So on the pocket came clear, and plumped down on the deck with a thud which made the stout timbers of the Coquette tremble, and master Bob himself emerged from the fray with a magnificent Vandyke pattern conspicuously tarred upon his flannel trousers. The skipper, taking hold of the apex of the pocket, emptied its contents upon the deck. What a seething, struggling, writhing, wriggling mass it was ! An appa- rently inextricable intertwining of heads and tails, with here and there a portion of a white belly or a dorsal fin just visible. At the first glance, the haul appeared to consist entirely of dog-fish, which look like miniature sharks, as they really are, and the fisher- men were evidently grievously disappointed, for they make no use of them. "Up at Dover," said the skipper, "they skin 'em and sell 'em for Dutch eels, but the Plymouth folks ain't to be took in that way." Such an enormous quantity of dog-fish they all declared they had never seen at one time, and some idea of their numbers may be formed from the fact that five of us were occu- pied for a whole hour in throwing them overboard again. They are extremely voracious, and destroy a vast quantity of fish, and we came across more than one fine whiting with a huge slice taken out of his middle by their sharp incisors. To our surprise, they were tossed over the side to take their chance of life or death, for the men said it was too much trouble to kill them. As the heap began to lose its pyramidal shape, we found many other kinds of fish, and the dull leaden and white colours of the shark tribe appeared diversified with the bright silver of the whiting, the gold of the john dory and the pollack, the dull crimson of the red mullet, the brilliant reds and yellows of the gurnard and the connor, and the beautifully variegated spots of the larger dog-fish or bounce. The skins of these last are sometimes dried and used by cabinet-makers in polishing their finer work. No one who has not seen sea fish just as they are taken from the water can have any true notion of the vividness of the hues of some of them as they lay gasping and quivering in the sunlight. The under sides of the pallock especially look as if they had been bathed in liquid gold, but this lovely tint lasts but a few moments after they have ceased to live. Among other fish, we came upon a strange-looking monster, which the men called a monk, confound- ing it with another fish which it strongly resembles, but which was in reality the fishing frog or angler, known in some parts as the sea-devil, and in Scotland by the very expressive title of wide- gab. It seemed to be all mouth, which gaped to the width of fifteen inches, the whole length being three feet, while the body tapered rapidly away from the back of the head. Our skipper expounded the habits of this odd-looking creature. At the ex- tremity of the upper jaw are two slender filaments, which the fish can erect or depress at pleasure. One of these, which is about a foot long, terminates in a triangular piece of skin, about the size of a half-a-crown, and having a shining appearance. As the angler lies flat at the bottom, he raises this filament, and the triangle plays about in the water, attracting his prey, which, incautiously approaching, is ruthlessly gobbled down. "I wish we could catch all the fish we want with as little trouble as he does," remarked Carotty Bob, with a tone of envy in his voice, as he took hold of the unsavoury-looking monk and flung him overboard. The dog-fish and other useless fish having been thrown away, the crew proceeded to assort those that were fit for the market. Among other odds and ends were a very large lobster, some "baby lobsters" and "baby soles," a fine fresh-looking cabbage, with a long stalk and roots all complete, sundry whelks and other shell fish, including some scallops, and an old Wellington boot. The whiting filled several mawns, the John dory, brill, and rays another, the gurnards, connors, and mullet a third, and so on, the finest fish being placed on the top. " Ah !" slyly remarked our irrepres- sible wag, "there's cheating in all trades except fishing." There was only one mawn full of hake, a fish which, twenty years ago, has been known to be sold at ninepence the dozen, but which has now become so scarce as to realize from one to two shillings each. It need hardly be added that the skipper stoutly refused to allow that this scarcity could be at all due to the destruction of the spawn caused by the incessant dredging of the trawlers.
While the fish were being assorted we had slowly sailed back to the harbour, and we took leave of our kind hosts about seven o'clock in the evening, delighted with our excursion, and with the feeling that we should not soon forget our trip in a trawler. A. R.
Previous page
