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Wrecked at the Pounds 
Yor«K Spit is a long, submerged ridge of sand 
projecting several miles from the Virginia shore 
into Chesapeake Bay. It makes shoal water to 
the edge of the main channel and forms the 
southern boundary of Mobjack Bay. Near the 
eastern end looms York Spit Light, one of the 
most important between Cape Henry and Balti- 
more. To York Spit come the fishers of pound 
nets in flotillas of log canoes. 
One day in May, 1904, the pound netters left 
New Point Comfort 
draw their As they 
shelter at dawn, the sky: promised 
their little harbors in and 
Poquosin Creek to nets 
cleared the 
a warm, serene day. A few filmy tresses of mist 
caught the first rays of sunlight and flamed 
beautifully over the eastern shore. The wide 
waters rolled with gentle undulation before 
varying southerly breezes—wind the canoemen 
welcomed, since it saved long toil with huge 
oak paddles or heavy sweeps. Of the men in 
the three dozen canoes which flocked from north 
and west toward the spit, not one who cast his 
the 
the 
rhe York Spit sands were fenced from end to 
glance around horizon discovered a trace 
of treachery in weather. 
end with many rows of pound net webbing hung 
upon poles. The pole-tops showed in lines ex- 
tending from the land to the hght, broken. how- 
ever, at intervals of half a mile or Jess by 
openings a few score feet wide, where a cluster 
of poles marked the outer end of the hedging. 
The clusters held huge net boxes in which the 
fish trapped. 
were Every canoe had two or 
three of these nets to fish 
The canoes arrived among the nets almost at 
the New Point Com- 
fort came tacking into the wind, and those from 
the the 
the one 
New 
imagined, 
same time. Those from 
Guinea came with wind over beam— 
the 
prettier 
canoe racing nearest, and 
Points. A 
Not 
all the flotilla but was manned by crews of two 
every 
Poquosins racing the 
could one of 
sight hardly be 
or three whose hearts thrilled as they won some 
‘advantage over a rival, and not a crew but 
longed for a wilder ride, even for one ‘“‘be- 
tween the horns of.death.” Day after day, six 
days a week, they raced, the eldest men of all 
feeling the greatest zest in their sport, fighting 
with eagerness ever growing for any advantage. 
however tiny, their supreme pleasure coming 
when with a canoe some said was faulty in 
design, they won over :-a boat built from what 
was called by others a superior model. 
Among the rest came the Thomas brothers, 
Dave, a one-armed man, and Did, a_ strong 
By RAYMOND S. SPEARS 
man-in an hour of need. They lived together 
beside Poquosin Creek, in a house neatly 
painted, well kept and commanding a wide view, 
ro the other One 
income, one home and one canoe served them. 
The 
either and not the other was in sight, even on 
similar to homes of baymen. 
neighbors would have been surprised it 
the bank of the Poquosin. '“When Dave takes 
a bite, Did begins to chaw,” a local apothegm 
said. 
The canoes came flitting among the nets, 
flashing white as the sails came over. For a 
7 ‘ 
few minutes there was a brilliant spectacle of 
darting and tacking as each crew sought its first 
net, the pointed sails suggesting nothing so 
much as a flight of playing gulls. Suddenly 
the pointed sheets of canvas dropped out of 

“THE ROYAL TERN,” AUDUBON PATROL BOAT NO. 4, 
OFF SUNDOWN ISLAND. 
sight. The task of taking up the heads was 
begun. 
After a time, a sail shone forth for a minute 
while the fishermen in a canoe hastened to an- 
other net, but the sight suggested a gull re- 
folding its wing, rather than a bird in flight. 
Now and then thereafter spread sails appeared 
for brief intervals, yet they served merely to 
heighten the impression of a flock of sea birds 
at rest on the waves: 
It was so pleasant a day, so quiet and calm, 
that the fishermen, having lifted the heads, 
tarried over their nets, scraping off the jelly- 
fish, shaking loose the drift and mending the 

rents in the webbing. The Thomas brothers 
found great masses of seaweed lodged in one 
sag which they had to clean out. As they 
worked at it, suddenly there came a change in 
the weather. Something which cast no visible 
shadow passed before the face of the sun, and 
warm as was the day, the fishermen felt a chill 
tang. The wind whipped around to the west. 
A dark and omingus haze settled upon the wide 
waters to the north. ieeinee the fishermen 
paused. They scanned the horizon; then they 
eyed the clouds. Whatever their feelings might 
indicate, the haze up the bay was the only 
change in the weather which they could see— 
that might mean anything. Forthwith they 
resumed their tasks. 
For a time, the wind, blowing gustily, held 
from the west. Then it died away in warm 
breaths which did not ripple the glaring ‘sur- 
face. The fishermen noticed this with regret. 
Paddling a two-ton log canoe is not a pleasure. 
They were bemoaning their hard luck when 
the sun vanished in a haze which changed 
rapidly from white to a muddy blue. The Wolf 
Trap lighthouse faded from view; a minute later 
New Point Comfort disappeared. Under the 
haze flickered a thin white line which grew 
brighter and brighter—the flurry of a squall. 
As yet, not a breath stirred on York Spit. 
Most of the fishermen now let go their nets, 
cast off their lines, and with sweep and paddle, 
hurried away homeward. Some few, however, 
with tasks almost done, the Thomas brothers 
among the rest, lingered to make a final knot or 
give a final scrape. 
The Thomas brothers were working along-the 
north side of a net about two miles in from 
York Spit Light. They had succeeded in clear- 
ing their hedging to the last pole; in fact, Dave 
was picking out a last handful of seaweed while 
Did shook the halliards, preparatory to hoist- 
ing sail, when the hammering advance gust of 
the storm drové stinging spray against their 
faces. Thereupon Did jerked the sail half-way 
to the peak and Dave sprang to hang the rud- 
der. They were caught unprepared by the fury 
of the gale. The wind slapped into the canvas, 
hrowing the boat far’ over. The waves and 
wind took hold of the uplifted side and threw 
the boat against a hedging stake. Very slowly, 
but without a pause, the canoe heeled till the 
water poured over the side, then the canoe 
turned toward the south, slid over the net bolt- 
rope and plunged head first into the water. The 
fishermen seized the stake, and, standing on top 


of the net, watched their canoe go down out of 
sight. 
Before they had time to exclaim their amaze- 
ment—they were merely amazed!—huge waves 
began to pound them. Did tied his crippled 
brother to the pole with a net fastener, then 
lashed himself fast. 
fishermen had disappeared in the smother, 
driven down the bay before the wind on a wild 
ride to shelter. There wads no taking that gale 
over the beam. The wild hearts among the 
crews beat for joy. The New Pointers, turned 
back,’ ran southward with the Poquosins, all | 
free and not one afraid. If any man 
have foundered. 
Not one of the boats was thirty-five feet long; 
not One was decked; in some boats were mere | 
boys standing at the tillers, while men held the 
sheets; in others boys managed the sails; in 
one craft three gray beards, long-haired and | 
squinty-eyed, peeked and peered about, smil- 
ing when they looked back into the teeth of the 
storm. This same canoe, manned by grand- 
daddies, passed one after another t{ll finally it 
By this time all the other | 
had | 
faltered at sheet or tiller, the unlucky craft must | 








