166 OLD PLYMOUTH TRAILS 



his nerve ganglia deep sea knowledge galore. 

 By it shall come to him in time all creatures of 

 the vast deep. 



Lovers of deep sea fishing grow best from 

 small beginnings. They yearn from tide flats to 

 the spar buoy in the harbor channel, thence 

 through Hull Gut to the rocky bottoms about the 

 Brewsters. After that the sirens sing to them 

 from every wash of white waves over ledges far 

 out to sea, caution drowns in the temptation of 

 blue water, and they fish no more except it is 

 "down outside." They who dwell on the very 

 rim of this deep sea, at Marblehead or Nahant, 

 at Cohasset or at Duxbury never know the full 

 depth of its lure as do those who must win to it 

 from the Dorchester flats or the winding reaches 

 of the Fore River. To these latter only is the 

 perfection of desire and the full joy of fulfilment. 

 You can leave the shallow bays inland only when 

 the tide serves, hence gropings for a tender on 

 the beach of starlit mornings, the chuckle of hal- 

 liard blocks in the rose of dawn and a long drift 

 in the pink glow of morning fog while the boom 

 swings idly and the turn of the flood drifts you 



