128 THE SALT OF MY LIFE 



every prospect that, judiciously edited by man, 

 they will yet give better fishing than Nature 

 intended. They may indeed have arrived at that 

 desirable stage already, for ten years of effort must 

 be placed to their credit since I knew them. In 

 those days at any rate, Australian anglers looked 

 to the salt water for practically all their sport. 

 Fortunately, the comparatively few indentations 

 of that unlovely coastline are so capacious, withal 

 so sheltered from rough weather, that landlocked 

 in)ets afford, where they are not overfished, all 

 manner of excellent sport in absolutely stil] water. 

 That Sydney Harbour itself gave much fishing 

 even ten years ago could not be pretended, for 

 the Australians, careful in all else to claim their 

 inheritance for themselves, had with perverse 

 apathy given over the fishing to Italians, the most 

 wasteful fishermen perhaps in the wide world, 

 with the result that the beautiful anchorage was 

 denuded of its fauna. To-day, if the same policy 

 has persisted, it must be nearer exhaustion than 

 ever. The most plentiful fish within the Heads 

 was the blackfish of Middle Harbour, where lads 

 used to angle for it with rods, baiting their hook 

 with a weed which they obtained from the quays. 

 At odd times, too, I saw the crew of the pilot- 

 steamer Captain Cook, stationed at Watson's Bay, 

 haul trevally, just within the South Head, as fast 

 as they could bait their lines. 



