County also dropped, from 309 in 1995 to 166 

 last year. 



The only area where pound net permits 

 have not dropped significantly is along the Outer 

 Banks. In Dare County, the number of permits 

 declined slightly from 1 18 in 1995 to 100 last 

 year. 



"There are probably 15 to 20 pound netters 

 left on Hatteras Island," says Mike Peele. "When 

 my father and I did pound netting, there were 

 probably 30 or more." 



In Carteret County, there are a number of 

 pound netters who fish the Pamlico and Core 

 sounds. 



For more than 25 years, Gilgo has set his 

 nets in Pamlico Sound. 



"Pound netting has been good this year 

 except the price is the lowest in 15 years," 

 according to Gilgo, in an interview last fall. 

 "I caught 3,000 pounds in one day." 



But, he does not plan to set pound nets in 

 fall 2002. 



"I set five nets this year," he says. "I am 

 getting out of it. I am 57. It takes a toll on your 

 back. You have to go out in rough weather. It 

 takes a special breed of person to pound net 

 because it is so strenuous." 



Old Fisheries 



Pound netting has a strong heritage in 

 North Carolina. In 1869, pound nets were 

 introduced into the Albemarle Sound and 

 revolutionized fishing, according to the N.C. 

 Maritime Museum. One account tells of an 

 individual who pulled in one million herring in a 

 single night in 1890 using a pound net. 



In February or early March, fishers set 

 pound nets for river herring in the Albemarle 

 Sound and Chowan River. 



Herbert Byrum and his brother, Bobby, are 

 the only river herring fishers left at Cannon's 

 Ferry on the Chowan River in Tyner. 



"There used to be 20-something fishermen 

 at Cannon's Ferry," says Herbert Byrum. 



Byrum' s fish house, which has an 

 American flag flying in the front, is on the banks 

 of the Chowan River. 



As you walk down the pier, you can smell 

 cheese used for catfish bait and shrimp used for 

 crab bait 



"We went from making $40,000 a year for 

 herring to $10,000 a year," says Byrum. "Now, 



Hatteras Island fisher Wayne Basnett has been pound netting since the 1950s. 



we crab and catfish to make up the difference." 



On his dock, Byrum shows his 20-foot 

 boat used for catching herring. When it's full 

 from gunwale to gunwale, it holds up to about 

 4,000 pounds of river herring. The striped bass 

 go back over the side. 



"In the heyday in the '60s, '70s and '80s, 

 we would catch 10,000 pounds of herring a 

 day," he says. 



Now, fishers are allowed to catch only 

 200,000 pounds for the whole season in the 

 Chowan River, adds Byrum. 



On a recent day, Byrum, who has been 

 pound netting since he was a high school student 

 in the 1960s, leaves the dock and heads out into 

 the muddy river. He stops in an area where the 

 wooden stakes are shaped like a heart. The fish 

 swim into the heart of the net along a lead set 

 near the shore. 



'Pound netting is beautiful fishing," says 

 Byrum. "It gets in your blood. It is hard work 

 and exciting. If you pull up a net with 5,000 to 

 10,000 pounds of fish, it is a pretty sight On 

 some days, we release 6,000 to 7,000 pounds of 

 rock fish a day," he says. 



Along the river, there are a few remnants 

 of when herring fisheries dominated the area 



Some of the wooden pilings of an old fish 

 house, which collapsed during a 1993 north- 

 easter, lean into the water. 



"That was where they processed herring," 

 he says. "You used to pull the boat up in the 

 middle. The fish ran up a big washer, scale and 

 cutting bench. There would be 100 women 

 cutting heads and guts of fish." 



The decline of the herring fisheries forced 

 Walt Jeffreys to relocate to Buxton. 



"I pound netted on the Chowan River until 

 1985 when herring left," says Jeffreys. 'Trouble 

 came with the river flooding in '82 and '83. 

 When I was a boy, we used to say herring ran in 

 30-year cycles. Had bumper crops from 1955 to 

 1982. We used to ship as high as 90,000 pounds 

 of herring a day." 



When Jeffreys moved to Buxton, he 

 switched to flounder fishing. Until his brother 

 died a few years ago. the two fished as a team. 

 Now, Jeffreys has another worker. 



"I've got six flounder rigs," he says. "I fish 

 in water 14 to 18 feet deep." 



Occasionally, Jeffrey's grown daughter, 

 Heather Glisson, helps him. 



"I like pound netting," says Glisson. "It is 

 different." However, Glisson doesn't want to 

 fish for a living. "It is too hard," she adds. 



Jeffreys is tired of fishing, and says he 

 wouldn't go into the business if he were starting 

 out today. "It is like family farms," he says. 



"Only big time fish places, like in 

 Wanchese, can survive." □ 



COASTWATCH 19 



