FISHERMEN'S OWN BOOK, 57 



though ; became successful, and very soon others were on the stocks modeled 

 after the Romp^ the pet of the fleet. 



Six sloops, one boat and one shallop composed the Cape Ann fleet in 

 1693 ; now it has nearly five hundred sail, of almost twenty-eight thousand 

 tons, and Gloucester is the largest fishing port in the land. Its fleet is 

 manned by men of every clime. A tide of young men, mainly from the 

 Provinces, sets steadily toward this port. Many have the characteristic 

 recklessness of the sailor, and earnings of weeks are spent between sunset 

 and sunrise. There is among them no sailor cut of clothes, and ashore they 

 follow the prevailing fashions down to lager beer. All haunts are prepared 

 for Jack, and he is prepared for all haunts. As in all other callings thrift 

 follows prudence and industry, though he seems to lie open to the changes 

 and chances of luck. You will see his cottage commanding the finest sea 

 view, for on the heights lie the cheapest lots. Alas ! that the waiting wife 

 can look harborward on every coming sail, often to see the flag "half-mast" 

 — for whom ? 



Here are no labor strikes. The sailor brings in a fare of fish, perhaps 

 all he has caught, by themselves ; they are weighed off, the vessel is put to 

 rights, and he goes up to the counting-room for his check. The whole value 

 of the fish is reckoned by the vessel-owner or his clerk ; then is deducted 

 cost of ice and bait bought; then one-quarter of one per cent, for the Wid- 

 ows' and Orphans' Fund ; one-half the remainder belongs to the owner, the 

 other to him. From his part is then deducted charges for wood-sawing and 

 splitting, for water, medicine-chest, condensed milk, and any charge for la- 

 bor on the vessel which belonged to him to do, but which has been hired 

 done. His check is then handed him, and he presents it in person, or it 

 finds its devious way to the bank by other — perhaps not cleaner — hands. 



One of the most exciting scenes imaginable is that of a fleet of hundreds 

 making the port in a storm. In a northeast gale they must beat in. All 

 day long, by twos and threes, they come. It is luff, bear away, or tack ship 

 to avoid a smash. Crack, snap, goes a jib-boom off. Crack, snap, there 

 is one main-boom the less. Hoarse voices of the skippers howl in entreaty 

 or command above the howling gale, and the shore is lined with listening 

 lookers-on. — ''^Century Magazine^ 



