great and hostile immensity. Among the seasons when this has happened, 

 one particularly tragic toll occurred in 1908, when 230 fishermen disappear- 

 ed thus, escaping the search of the Naval Station and the hospital ship, Oeuvres 

 de Mer . 



All drif tings, happily, do not end so tragically. It frequently happens 

 that lost dories are picked up by another vessel, or that they make land at 

 Newfoundland or at Saint-Pierre-et-Miquelon. It is in view of such accidents 

 that regulations make obligatory the placing, on each dory, of two gaffs, two 

 bailing scoops, five oars, a fog-horn, at least 9 pounds of biscuits and 6 

 quarts of water, these provisions being sealed in small tin containers. 



The vessels themselves run risks which have resulted, among the bank 

 fishermen, in a number of victims. The most feared is the danger of en- 

 countering drifting ice, the shock of which, coming unexpectedly in fog or at 

 night and impelled by the current, is often mortal for the vessel. Collisions 

 with steam vessels crossing the banks also causes equally, in some years, 

 numerous accidents. They are now, fortunately, extremely rare since pas- 

 sage by liners traveling from Europe to New York is forbidden across the 

 banks. These vessels are particularly dangerous because of their great size 

 and speed, even when they reduce speed in the fog. 



On returning to the ship, the men raise the dories to the deck if there is 

 need of precaution for the night. In good weather the dories remain, at night 

 as well as day, tied to a mooring cable passed over the stern. 



The crew eats when all the dories are back. Men designated in turn man 

 the pumps to free the bilges of brine exuded from the piles of salted cod in 

 the hold, as well as some seawater. 



On vessels on which the custom of a prayer is maintained, this is recit- 

 ed aloud before the assembled crew either by the captain or by a sailor called 

 by his co-workers "The Cure. " 



The anchor lights being lit, everyone goes to bed except the men on watch. 

 After July, one man on watch is assigned a squid jig which he keeps constantly 

 over the side. If a school passes, he immediately wakes the whole crew and 

 each one, whatever the hour, takes his place at the rail, jig in hand; for one 

 never lets pass an opportunity for catching squid, the best of baits. 



At the first light of dawn, the men on watch wake the crew so that the dor- 

 ies will be ready to take to sea as soon as it is light enough to see the buoys. 



86 



