VIII. THE CONGER EEL 



By F. G. AFLALO 



ORDINARILY speaking, the freshwater eel is, perhaps, 

 the most disgusting fish caught on rod and line. Of 

 course, if a man fishes deliberately for eels, by the method 

 known as bobbing or otherwise, I suppose eels are wel- 

 come as a trout on a mayfly; but to catch one accidentally 

 is no more agreeable than finding the point of a pin in a 

 bran pie. I recollect hooking a large eel once in a quiet river of the Ardennes 

 when worm-fishing for trout, and there was something so outrageous in 

 the sight of its yellow body bending my split cane trout -rod that I instantly 

 cut the line rather than play such vermin to the net.* 



The conger is, however, somewhat cleaner and brighter than the eels 

 of rivers. A conger of twenty or thirty pounds is a bold female — ^male 

 congers are degenerates that weigh no more than a pound or two — and 

 a very Amazon to fight in the darkness of an August night. There is, more- 

 over, irresistible glamour about the strange conditions of this night fish- 

 ing, when the boat, anchored at sundown within hail of the cliffs, rocks 

 ever so gently on an uneasy sea, and the twinkling lights of the pilchard 

 fleet drift past, and drowsy little sea birds mew in their roosting places 

 overhead. 



Anyone looking out for as much excitement as possible should fish 

 for conger with a rod, though, personally, having once caught one of 

 twenty-four pounds in this fashion one pitch-black summer's night off 

 Mevagissey, I find that the handline gives all the enjoyment I ask for. 

 That particular conger all but broke the thumb of my left hand, ruined 

 a valuable reel, and finally kicked over our only lamp, subsequently 

 raging up and down the boat for several minutes in all the joy of 

 life, whilst my boatman and I belaboured each other with bludgeons 

 in a vain attempt to calm it. It was a very foolish performance for all 

 concerned, and anyone who calls such knockabout frolic sport is welcome 

 to it. 



Conger fishing cannot be made very artistic work at best, but a night 

 on board a lugger anchored on the conger ground is an interesting change 



*I once landed a (mall eel on a red spinner when fly-fishing for trout in a Scottish bum. The condition to which 

 that creature reduced a fine gut cast was truly Gordian. — ED. 



ccc 377 



