1 88 FISHERMEN'S OWN BOOK. 



veered out for the occasion, often amounting to three hundred and fifty or 

 four hundred fathoms, if there is a heavy gale, and the vessel is in deep 

 water, though on the shoal part of the Bank, in thirty to fifty fathoms, much 

 less cable is required. 



In ordinary gales fishermen are rarely anxious for their safety, for, like 

 veteran soldiers, they come to think little of their perils, and while the 

 storm howls, the vessel rolls, staggers, rises and plunges again, the crew off 

 duty will frequently gather in the cabin and "pitch in for a sing," and at 

 such times groups of four often improvise a low table on the cabin floor, 

 and have a game of " Seven Up," or " Euchre." Exclamations of " Swing 

 for his Jack," "That makes us game," and the like, are sometimes inter- 

 rupted by a dash of water down the companion-way, which obliges every- 

 body to scramble to their feet to save themselves and the precious cards 

 from a wetting. 



But furious hurricanes often sweep across the Banks with almost resistless 

 fury, carrying destruction and death with them, and appalling even the 

 stoutest hearts. Such was the terrific gale of Sept. 9th and 10th, 1876, in 

 which many staunch vessels succumbed to the power of the wind and waves, 

 carrying down with them the hardy and. daring men who formed their crews. 



The writer was then in command of the sch. Howard — one of the very 

 few, if not the only vessel, to hold on and ride out the gale at anchor. The 

 vessel was on Banquereau, and the following extract from a letter gives the 

 principal incidents of the occasion : 



On the morning of the 9th of December we made sail* before daylight 

 and got all ready to set our trawls, but by the time it was fairly light it blew 

 up smart from the southeast and began to snow. We lay by for awhile 

 around the Andrew Lcighton and her dories, some of which were out. After 

 an hour or two, finding the wind increasing fast, we ran in on the Bank un- 

 til we reached a depth of sixty fathoms, where we anchored and got all 

 ready for a gale. The southeaster blew heavy, but was of short duration, 

 being about what Winter southeasters generally are. 



The night of the 9th the wind jumped in to west-northwest, and towards 

 morning of the 10th blew very heavy; so hard indeed that, fearing the rid- 

 ing-sail would go to pieces, we hauled it down. The riding-sail, which be- 

 longed to another vessel, and which we had taken temporarily, was a new 

 one which had no reef in it, as did our own. The latter had been left 

 ashore, as it was too old for a Winter trip. 



The gale increased in fury, and after daylight blew extremely hard, while, 

 to make matters worse, the tide set out to run to the southward, hawsing 

 the vessel up in such a manner that she lay almost in the trough of the sea. 



*Set mainsail and jib. We had been lying to during the previous night under a foresail. 



