FISHERMEN'S OWN BOOK. 21 



diligence whenever the weather will permit it. And in this matter of suita- 

 ble weather the fishermen are not at all fastidious, nor can they afford to be. 

 Thus the boats are often caught out in heavy squalls and driven away to 

 float helplessly for days and nights until their occupants succumb to hunger 

 or succeed in reaching some other vessel. Other dories are upset on 

 " rough " days, and though the men are sometimes rescued, more frequently 

 they become exhausted and sink in the icy waters. Again, the men will put 

 out in the midst of the dense fogs so characteristic of the Newfoundland 

 Banks, and lose the position of the vessel in spite of loud fog-horns ; or, in 

 winter, they will be overtaken by blinding snow-squalls, hiding everything 

 in a thick and turbulent waste of dashing spray and drifting snow. 



On idle clays, or when, late in the evening, the crew.gather in the forecastle 

 for their usual lunch before turning in, you will hear thrilling tales of these 

 adventures, and escapes by only the breadth of a hair from boundless torture 

 or sudden death. Nor are these "yarns" — they are reserved for the gaping 

 crowd around the stove at the corner grocery ashore. When fo'c's'le men 

 compare notes, each one knows the rest are critics, and dares not draw the 

 long bow — at least not beyond the limit of true dramatic effect. Yet who- 

 ever heard that these narrations of peril ever deterred a dory's crew from 

 putting off when it seemed necessary? Mr. Stedman, you are right : — 



" Brave are the hearts that man 

 The fishing smaeks of Gloucester, the sea-boats of Cape Ann." 



STARTING FOR THE BANK. 



The fittings, including ice, provisions, water, 

 boats, and fishing apparatus, having been tak- 

 en on board and snugly stowed away, next 

 comes the day of sailing, which oftentimes is 

 quite an episode in the fisherman's life, since 

 he must then part with all he holds dear, 

 knowing full well what dread uncertainties 

 ^ lie between his departure and return. The 

 sailing clay may occur at any season, and 

 each time may vary in some particulars, though 

 the general features remain the same. The account of the day of which 

 I now write I find in my journal under date of January 24, 1879. 



The men composing our crew came down to the wharf, alongside of which 

 lay our vessel, about half-past eight o'clock in the morning, many of them 

 bringing a small calico bag containing a small supply of clean clothes, and 

 providing themselves at the fitting-out store with pipes and tobacco for the 

 trip. Two of the crew are sent off to the "baiter "—a vessel lying at anchor 



