MR. T. J. WIGG ON THE HERRING FISHERY. 
355 
In preparation for the fishing, the Corporation had extended the 
Quay to the south of the Fish Wharf, and this portion was set 
apart for the exclusive use of the great army of Scotchmen who 
frequent this port. 
Very little fishing could be done during the first half of October 
on account of the boisterous weather, and those vessels whose 
crews were brave (or ill-advised) enough to venture out to sea, 
were glad to return, showing signs of the buffeting they had 
experienced. However, “ It’s an ill wind that blows nobody 
good,” and the rough weather had the effect of bringing together 
the shoals of fish, so that they were more in touch with the fishers. 
The scene at the Fish Wharf soon became an animated one, and 
the Wharf Master and his assistants were most active in providing 
berths for incoming vessels, and doing all in their power to prevent 
utter confusion. The salesmen, too, were hard at it, and had but 
little leisure time. The clanging of bells and shouting of “runners,” 
mingling with the clattering of carts removing the Herrings to tho 
gutting grounds and houses, made up a scene that must be seen to 
be fully realised. 
The ‘Yarmouth and Gorleston Times’ of November 2nd, 1901, 
thus describes a scene at the Fish Wharf : — “ It was a sight to see 
the Fish Wharf on Sunday, October 20th, but remembrance of that 
scene faded away before that which met the eye on Sunday the 27th. 
The English boats, which had been out on Saturday, began to 
return into port early on Sunday morning, and as they had, all of 
them, big cargoes, it was patent to all that the boats must have 
struck great shoals that are now working their way up from the 
North. The Fish Wharf was speedily lined with steamers, loaded 
with eighteen to twenty-two lasts of Herrings per boat, and the 
work of landing began without loss of time. A boat discharged, 
and there were others ready to take her place, and soon the Wharf 
right up to the ferry was thickly covered with hundreds of thousands 
of Herrings, which glittered and sparkled in the rays of the 
autumnal sunshine. Counting was out of the question, as the 
boats were all eager to get out again after more, so the Herrings 
were put into huge heaps, encircled by swills, and plentifully 
sprinkled with salt. The Wharf being full up, the covered-in 
market was quickly filled up also with heaps of “shiners;” but 
the cry was “still they come.” Carting is not done on Sundays to 
