TRAWLING 



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, 



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