112 THE SALT OF MY LIFE 



enjoyment, even beyond the mere catching of 

 fish, with the fair summer sea around, with the 

 play of sea-fow] and porpoises, with the occa- 

 sional passing of a picturesque sailing ship or 

 more business-like torpedo-boat ; but he must 

 be an eccentric sportsman indeed who, after some 

 experience of the sensation, can find much satis- 

 faction in staring through the cold darkness of 

 an English night at the glow of his boatman's 

 pipe and hauling an occasional eel for his pains. 



Drift-line fishing for mackerel has been referred 

 to in passing as the method by which the largest 

 fish of that species are caught. My best experi- 

 ence of drift-lines was on a Saturday morning in 

 1894. It was a pity that it was a Saturday, for 

 that meant no afternoon market for George to 

 sell his fish at, so that Nature's bounty was wasted 

 on us. We anchored on Martin Vane in a glassy 

 smooth sea, and the great mackerel were darting 

 to and fro beneath the boat literally in hundreds. 

 The water was so still and clear that we could 

 watch each fish take the bait and even pull it 

 away from a small aspirant, so as to give a better 

 fish the option. We caught about a hundred and 

 then left off, simply tired of the sport and con- 

 scious of the fact that the fish would fetch no price 

 worth speaking of the same day and would be 

 absolutely putrid by the Monday. These large 

 mackerel give pretty sport on fine gut tackle, but 



