TRAWLING 



The smack is in thirty, perhaps forty, fathoms of water, 

 and down at or near the bottom are soles and plaice, 

 halibut arid 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. 



" All right ! 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 



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