C.A. Cottrell
If I can leave behind me, here and there
A friend or two to say when I am gone
That I have helped to make their pathways fair,
Had brought them smiles when they were bowed with care,
The riches of this world I'll carry on.
If only three or four shall pause to say
When I have passed beyond this earthly sphere,
That I brought gladness to them on a day
When bitterness was theirs, I'll take away
More riches than a billionaire leaves here.
The chronic trout fisherman is by nature secretive. He is loath to tell where he made his big catches and shrouds the location of the streams in mystery. If pinned down closely he will sometimes indicate a general locality but it is hard to get him to be more definite. The reason for this is obvious. He is zealous of his rights as a "discoverer" and feels that he is not obliged to share his knowledge with anybody. He won't take the risk of having the stream "fished out" by others than himself. The secrets of the location of gold strikes in the days of '49 were no more closely kept.
When the 15th of April comes around each year there are certain wise men who proceed to load up their automobiles with their fishing tackle and in the early morning turn Capeward. They have experiences of previous years to guide them and know certain brooks and pools where the speckled beauties await them. The wise ones know just where to throw their lines and the kind of bait that is sure to lure the denizens of that particular spot. For fishing is a science, as well as a sport requiring skill and judgment. The born fisherman seems to have an uncanny sense of piscatorial thoughts and almost instinctively can determine just the right thing to do and the right time to do it, while the mere amateur fisherman who only wets a line occasionally guesses whether to use a fly or a worm.
Yes, the Cape is a noted Mecca for trout fishermen, at least certain parts of the Cape. Within the confines of Bourne, Mashpee, Falmouth and Barnstable are many likely trout brooks and from them are annually taken many catches that gladden the hearts of the sportsmen.
These brooks run into the ponds and the sea, they run through marshes and woods. They abound in trout, of the square-tail variety, and those who know them keep their secrets closely.
Sometimes a fisherman exhibits a basket of fish that astonishes all beholders. Big speckled beauties they are and in quantity sufficient to satisfy any one.
Some of the biggest of them may be "salters," fish caught near the mouths of the brooks that run into the sea and weighing all the way from a pound to two pounds or more. There is authentic information that trout weighing more than two and a half pounds have been taken from these Cape Cod streams.
Unfortunately for the general public many of the brooks are "posted," but there are a lot of fishermen that "don't believe in signs" and when they see a sign of "no fishing here" they are apt to challenge the statement and some of them aver that there is very good fishing there indeed.
It is a matter of history that the Pilgrims found trout in the Cape Cod streams. It is a matter of fact that many of the brooks have been stocked by private individuals and by the state. Every year the fish in these stocked brooks increase in size and the sophisticated fishermen keep track of them from year to year. The state keeps a record of the stocking of streams and that information can be obtained and made use of.
At Sandwich the state maintains a trout hatchery where millions of eggs are secured. These eggs develop into fry and fingerlings and they are distributed throughout the state, the Cape getting its full share.
A visit to this hatchery is interesting. It demonstrates how the state strives to increase sport for its residents. Science and experience are exercised and the result is that the fishing advantages of the state are steadily increasing.
One of the chief drawbacks of having well stocked streams is the unsportsmanlike conduct of many fishermen. To them a trout is a trout regardless of its size and hundreds of small fish are taken from the streams that should be put back and allowed to grow for another year. There may be satisfaction for some in catching a large quantity of seven-inch fish, but there is a greater satisfaction in catching fewer in number and larger in size.
Many of the streams are suitable for fly-casting and experienced fishermen delight in that method of filling their creel. To cast a gossamer silk line with an alluring fly into the deeper pools and to feel the thrill of a strike as the fly flits over the surface is a joy that far outweighs the less spectacular method of fishing with worm or grub and dragging the trout from the water by main strength. There is a skill in fly-casting that comes from long practice and the fisherman who is expert in this method cares to use no other.
The trout is a shy fish and the blundering sportsman who goes stumbling through the underbrush, who allows his shadow to fall upon the pool, or who in other ways announces to the fish lurking under the bank that he is present with homicidal intent often wonders why it is that the results are so small for the amount of effort expended. He may aver that the stream is barren of fish when the fact is that his own clumsiness is responsible for his lack of success.
In other words there are all kinds of fishermen; to the victor belongs the spoils and the greater the skill the greater the spoil. We are not asserting that Cape Cod trout streams are as prolific as are some in more remote regions, they are fished too frequently for that, but any one wanting a day's sport will not find them entirely lacking and very often will proudly exhibit catches that will by no means be insignificant, even to the most experienced and enthusiastic fisherman.
"No sah, ah doan't neber ride on dem things," said an old coloured lady looking in on the merry-go-round.
"Why, de other day I seen dat Rastus Johnson git on an' ride as much as a dollah's worth an' git off at the very same place he got on at, an' I sez to him: 'Rastus,' I sez, 'yo' spent yo' money, but whar yo' been?'"
—Ladies Home Journal.
Emma B. Pray
Not very long ago, in one of the newspapers, I read of a lady who had traveled some thirty thousand odd miles in her life time, and the item set me to thinking of the many times I had traveled with my husband some years ago when he commanded a clipper ship on Eastern voyages. For Curiosity's sake I looked over my journals and found that in the few voyages I had made I had covered two hundred forty-nine thousand two hundred sixteen miles—but how it all came about is a long story.
When I was a young girl, if any one had told me that I should spend a certain number of years travelling about in Eastern countries, passing three or four months at a time on the ocean, I should have said, "What an idea! Here I am, born and brought up in a small New Hampshire town, in a family whose idea seems to be to keep as far away from the water as possible, and with no thought of ever crossing it, 'Unless,' as my father used to say, 'there should be a bridge built by which we could do so'."
In fact my knowledge of a ship and its belongings was nearly equal to that of the young lady who was about to make her first trip across the ocean with her father. Seeing the sailors about to weigh anchor she inquired why they were working so hard. Her father replied, "They are weighing the anchor, my dear." "How absurd! If the Captain wants to know the weight of the anchor why doesn't he have it weighed beforehand and not wait until we get ready to start and then keep us waiting for the men to weigh it?"
However, it is the unexpected that always happens, and one day I married a young sea captain from a seaport town. He was soon to sail for Australia, and to me such a trip was literally going to the ends of the earth. I feel sure that my parents never expected me to return. What preparations we made for that voyage! What pickles, preserves, cakes, and everything that would keep, were packed for me and sent aboard our ship which was lying in New York harbor!
Our cabins were beautifully fitted up with every convenience and comfort that we could have on shore. The saloon, or after-cabin, was finished in bird's-eye maple and satin wood veneering. Wilton carpets and furnishings of raw silk made a homelike and attractive room. Our stateroom, with large double bed, and our own private bath opening from the stateroom, left us nothing to wish for in the line of comfort. The second cabin, or dining quarters for the Captain and First Officer, was finished like the after-cabin, while forward of the two was the mess room for the Second and petty officers.
At last the day came on which we were to sail, and, realizing that I was not a born sailor, I made up my mind that I must make myself over into one, though the making over process proved to be nearly the death of me. For the first ten days I can recall but little outside of a promiscuous tumbling about of movable objects and, though urged strongly to go on deck I refused to do so, caring little whether I lived or died. However, one day I was literally taken up, carried on deck, and placed in a steamer chair, and from that time I recovered rapidly.
So many people have asked me if the time at sea did not hang heavily on my hands. What did I do? Was I not lonesome, homesick, and innumerable other like questions to which I have honestly replied that I was not lonesome or homesick. We purchased books by the hundred before sailing, and with a piano and flute, passed many pleasant hours. So much fancy work was always on hand that I have cared but little for it since. Whenever the weather permitted I walked two or three miles up and down the quarter deck, so many times up and back making a mile. Occasionally we took with us as passenger some young man whom we knew very well and who wished to take such a voyage. At one time a brother of mine, also one of the Captain's were our companions; two other times, young men from our own state proved to be excellent company, and to this day we enjoy nothing more than talking over our odd experiences in the different countries to which we traveled. Though I was the only lady on board I did not feel the lack of companionship of other women. A queer life it was! No one to come and no one to go, with nothing but the sky and water to be seen.
In two weeks time we had the N.E. Trade Winds and fairly flew along. Each day brought its own particular work aboard the ship, for a sailor is never idle. There is always something for him to do. Chafing gear, of which there is a large amount, is always being worn out and has to be renewed, sails made and repaired, work on rigging, tarring, painting, etc.
Perhaps the most interesting part of each day was the marking off of the chart at noon. At that time the Captain would work out his latitude and longitude, mark our position for the last twenty-four hours, and shape our course for the next twenty-four. We often towed lines for dolphin, and it was curious to see their change of color as they were hauled in. We had them baked occasionally and found them very fair eating. On opening one, at one time, it was found to be packed with flying fish which had been swallowed whole and which some of the sailors took out and had cooked for themselves, though for my part I should have preferred having the first eating of them. The flying fish which came aboard were usually served to me as they were considered a great delicacy. We caught many jelly fish or Portuguese men of war as they are sometimes called, and they were very curious to look at. They are of a jelly-like substance, with apparently no eyes or mouth, and are bluish in color. They have a pink crest and when the wind strikes them, as they float on the water, they rock and sway like a boat. Dangling from the lower part are many small feelers, some of which are short and thick, and others of great length, which they turn and twist rapidly about.
A shade of homesickness came over me as I saw the North Star for the last time but I was soon interested in the Southern Cross of which I had heard so much. I wish I could describe some of the beautiful colorings shown in the tropical sunsets. I missed the twilight effects as seen at home, for as quickly as the sun goes down, darkness closes in. As I was enjoying my evening walk with the Captain at one time, a small boy who had been sent to sea apparently with the idea of getting him out of the way, came to me and said, "Wouldn't you like some Youth's Companions to read? I have lots of them." At that time I had more of a juvenile than a matronly air and I presume he thought they would furnish me with appreciative reading matter. He had not then learned that he should not speak unless spoken to. One day on being told to make a rope fast he replied, "I did hitch it." An order to let go a brace was answered by the question, "Which string do you mean?" At one time he was placed on duty to open and close shutters during squally weather and the officer told him to use a good application of soap and water before coming aft. When the novelty of his new duty had worn off and he had rather forgotten why he had been placed there the officer called to him and said, "What did I tell you to do?" "Wash myself, sir," was the reply. It was a long while before he could obey an order without replying and at the same time to remember his "Sir" when a reply was necessary.
As we approached the equator it could be seen that some special interest in the voyage was being taken among the sailors and we learned that three of them had never crossed the line before and that an initiation of so doing was about to take place. The crew assembled at the bow of the ship and at the blowing of a trumpet by one of their number, Neptune appeared inquiring the name of the ship, where she was bound, etc., and announced that he would like to pay her a visit. Before his apparent arrival a staysail had been fastened to the rigging and filled with water. A bucket had been filled with a mixture of lamp black and grease with a few other combinations, while a razor, a foot or more in length, had been made by the carpenter. As soon as Neptune and Amphitrite—two sailors fantastically dressed—appeared, the candidate for crossing the line was blindfolded and brought before them. A number of absurd questions were asked the candidate and he was finally ordered to be shaved, which was done by applying the mixture with an old paint brush and shaving it off with the razor. He was then thrown backwards into the sail of water and I was much surprised to see how good naturedly the men took so many surprises—for we had an excellent view from the quarter deck, of the whole entertainment. We heard afterwards that it was considered a great success, also that one of the men had been watching through a glass for the equator, seeming to think that a straight line passing through the center of the earth should certainly be seen. He thought he surely saw it when a hair was drawn tightly across a spy glass without his seeing it and the glass then given to him.
In one of his rambles about the decks, on a moonlight night, one of our passengers told me of some of the tattooes he had seen on the arms of different sailors. One had his mother's gravestone, with a weeping willow over it; another had the Goddess of Liberty remarkably well done. The large number of different sketches was really quite an entertainment. That reminds me of an engraved whale's tooth which I have in my possession and which was given to my grandfather in Nantucket many years ago. A full rigged ship with every rope, even to the smallest one, is carved upon it, with the engraver's name and the name of the ship. It is now nearly a hundred years old and among my most prized possessions.
We soon sighted the Island of Fernando Norouha which is a penal settlement for the convicts of Brazil. This island is about six miles in circumference and two thousand and twenty feet high. It had a rocky barren appearance with nothing to be seen but a few birds around it. About thirty miles from this island are the Martin Van Rocks, three hundred feet high. In the south Atlantic we sighted the group of Tristan Da Cunha Islands which had a very gloomy, foggy look. Tristan is inhabited by English people and I have been told that the women are particularly handsome there. In this region it is very chilly and damp and though the thermometer stood at fifty-five degrees it seemed much colder. At this time we began to prepare for the heavy weather of our Easting, as the run across the Indian Ocean is called. New sails were bent and everything battened down. The days were very short, the sun rising at about half past seven and setting at five o'clock. We usually made the run about forty degrees south in order to get better winds. What a dreary outlook it was! Nothing but sky and water with waves which were mountains high. The only bit of life outside of our ship's company was a number of birds of a different nature from any I had ever seen and they followed the ship day after day. Cape pigeons and albatross were in large numbers. We caught many of the latter and measured them. I remember one weighing thirty pounds and measuring fifteen feet from tip to tip of the wings. Cape hens about as large as good sized turkeys, ice birds, and many other small birds. I enjoyed feeding them and it was very funny to watch them tumble over each other in their efforts to get something to eat. Such a noise as they did make with their squabblings! Many sharks were caught and I never knew a sailor to have any compunctions about disposing of these man-eating creatures. A shark line was towed astern at different times and one day it took the combined efforts of five men to haul one in. Whales, all of ninety feet in length, stayed about the ship several days at a time. We saw many sun-fish which are a light gray in color. They have one large fin out of the water and are very hard to harpoon.
Once in a while another ship would come in view and if near enough we always spoke to one another by our flag code. This was always an interesting event. Certain sentences given in the code book would be represented by certain flags, each flag representing a letter of the alphabet. The questions usually asked were, "Where are you from?" "Where bound?" "How many days out?" and then a wish for a pleasant passage. My experience in running down the Easting has always been the same and I have made the trip a number of times. I have heard of ships running across the Indian Ocean with royals set but whenever I have been, we have had a succession of heavy gales. In thirty-six degrees fifty minutes south and Lon. twenty-nine degrees fifty-nine minutes east a heavy gale sprung up which gradually turned into a hurricane. The barometer was falling fast when I retired and at eleven o'clock it stood at 28.50. I have merely to close my eyes now and I can hear the wind as it shrieked and roared about us. We ran before those mountainous seas with but one thought and that to keep them from breaking over the ship. All hands were on deck all night, each one lashed, with the exception of those who were between decks passing out oil cases which were broken open and thrown overboard by those on deck. Fifteen hundred cases were used that night with good effect. The seas were as high but the oil prevented them from breaking over the ship. During the worst of the gale one man was washed overboard but his loss was not discovered for nearly twenty minutes, and even if it had been, nothing could have been done to save him in such tremendous seas. Clark Russell says that the grandeur and sublimity of the ocean can be best seen on a yard arm during a gale of wind, but somehow I have not been able to make those words applicable to the gales through which I have passed. Through our ninety degrees of Easting I had but little exercise. The lee side of the cabin usually found me with my books, work and numerous small articles for ready use. I think the most exercise I had during those days was when I tried to dress, as it was almost impossible to stand in one spot any length of time on account of the rolling and pitching of the ship. With a firm stand I would place myself in front of my mirror, only to gradually slide away across the room to a lounge where I would sit down, then I would climb back, and with as much speed as possible do what I could before disappearing again. In a length of time I was able to make my toilet, and when made it was not changed during the day in those latitudes.
They were certainly strenuous days, but we were well and had good appetites for the excellent meals which were served to us by our capable Chinese steward and cook. The doings and sayings of our cabin boy would fill a book, but he was trustworthy and attended faithfully to our wants. One night after I had retired, a heavy thunder storm came up which might have caused us considerable trouble had not our usual strict discipline been carried out. Having become so used to confused sounds on deck I did not realize that the ship had been struck by lightning, though I heard a sound which in my dozing condition I laid to something falling down in the bathroom. When the Captain came in to ask if I were all right I sleepily said, "Why not? I think something has fallen down." He did not tell me until morning that the ship had been struck and had caught fire aloft. By changing the course the sparks were made to fall overboard while men were sent aloft to cut away the blazing fragments. About ten minutes before the vessel was struck, a dozen men were aloft furling a sail just where the lightning struck us, and when the storm was over it seemed a special act of Providence that we still had these men with us.
I have so often been asked what could we possibly have to eat that would be appetizing for such lengthy voyages. We always carried fowl in large numbers and it was very seldom that we did not have fresh eggs enough for our table during the voyage. Potatoes, onions, and lemons we always had in abundance and they were very important items of our food. The following is one of the menus served to us on quite a stormy day as we were running across the Indian Ocean. For breakfast: baked beans, fish balls, brown bread, hot biscuits, tea and coffee. For dinner: soup, roast chicken, cold tongue, boiled potatoes, squash, and onions, English pudding, hard sauce, and coffee. For supper: warm biscuit, cold chicken, cold tongue, fried potatoes, cake and tea. In fine weather our menus were more elaborate and I never knew any one to complain of being hungry aboard ship while I was going to sea.
After eighty-seven days of such sea life I was aroused one morning to go on deck and see if I could see anything that looked like land and saw what at first seemed to me to be a small cloud in the distance about thirty miles away. As the morning wore on, the Australian coast gradually loomed up before us, the land first seen proving to be Cape Bridgewater. We sighted Cape Otway in the afternoon, the lighthouse being plainly seen in the evening, and such a beautiful evening as it was! Not a cloud in the sky! The stars shone like diamonds and the reflection on the water of the beautiful moon put a finish to the charm of a perfect night. The Southern Cross was almost directly over us, while in close proximity to the moon was the brilliant Venus. We remained on deck very late that night to enjoy our beautiful scene. During the evening a very pretty phenomenon took place when the sky became a brilliant red, like the reflection of a fire, forming an arc through which the stars could be plainly seen. It remained thus for some time, until it gradually changed into a white light, the Southern Lights or Aurora Australis as the change is called.
The Old Town Crier
