The shark, though in reality but little out of harmony with the law of Nature, which is “one with rapine,” has acquired with all nations, civilized and barbarian, a reputation even worse than that enjoyed by its terrestrial prototype—the tiger. It would be superfluous on my part to describe the arrangement of his fins, or the size and number of his serrated, lancet-shaped teeth; for do they not nowadays teach Natural History even in Board schools!
Still more remarkable than anything about the shark itself is the presence of the two pilot-fish that almost invariably flank its head on either side. These interesting creatures instantly swim towards anything that is thrown on the water, swim round it, and then return to their patron; if it be a bottle, or any other inedible object, all three then remain aloof, but if fit to eat, the shark immediately makes for it.
When he is captured, indeed, they will swim for days on either side of the rudder, with the fidelity of dogs; and on one occasion I managed, after several hours’ hard work, to entrap them both in a bucket. Belonging, as they do, to the Scomberidæ, they bear in shape a pronounced resemblance to the mackerel; the average length is one foot, and the body, which is of a silvery gray, is marked with five transverse dark bands; while the dorsal fin, when erect, reminds one forcibly of the perch, but the family to which they belong, and which includes the albacore, bonito, and mackerel, has no representative in fresh water.
Fried steaks cut from the tail-end of the defunct shark were served that day at the Junior Officers’ Mess, of which I was elected an honorary member; and I must say that the dish was palatable in spite of the associations that clung to the monster. The sailors of those days had a firm conviction that the appearance of a shark forecasted a death on board. A lady occupying a cabin next to mine was rapidly nearing her end from the ravages of consumption, and I never looked out upon the warm, still sea without perceiving a huge shark swimming leisurely round the ship as it crept slowly on. It was, of course, the merest coincidence, and a word of encouragement from the captain would have again placed shark-steaks on the ménu; I was so impressed, however, with the hideous idea, that only the presence of several invalids on board and the consequent necessity for avoiding all unnecessary disturbance, prevented me from putting a rifle-bullet into him as he neared the surface.
At last the unfortunate lady succumbed, and the shark immediately dived after the coffin, which was, however, extra-heavily weighted at one end and pierced with numerous holes; whether he accomplished his nefarious purpose after the coffin rested amongst seaweeds, strange crustaceans, and nautili, who shall say? Anyhow, we saw no more of him.
Traversing the ocean in a modern steamer would give one the idea that it is but scantily inhabited; the churning of the screw is heard some way ahead, and all the fish are scared away to the depths, so that an occasional school of porpoises, too eager in the pursuit of flying-fish, is about the only sight worth recording, and then it only lasts a few moments, while the affrighted creatures tumble headlong over one another in their frantic endeavours to escape. Of a sailing vessel, however, they take but little notice, gambolling around in the most leisurely manner. They are gregarious, not unlike the dolphin, but with a less elongated snout, well armed with teeth adapted for seizing the small fish that form their staple article of food.
Another fish partial to the wake of a sailing-ship, on account of the amount of animal refuse which is thrown overboard, is the bonito, closely allied to the tunny, though smaller and more graceful. The average length is between two and three feet, and it is, for its size, the strongest fish I ever met with. Like the mackerel, its congener, it is most beautiful directly after its removal from the water; its back is steely-blue, which grows lighter at the sides and eventually shades off into silver under the belly, along which run several horizontal lines of darker hue. The sailors harpoon it for sport rather than for the sake of its flesh, which is coarse and somewhat rank. When the ship is only creeping along with but little wind, it is possible to take bonito on a spinning bait; but very strong tackle is requisite for bringing it on board. I have seen a successful (?) handliner, who hooked a large bonito while fishing from a small boat, towed in every direction for a considerably exciting time before he could come to closer quarters with his capture.
On one occasion I enjoyed some excellent mackerel-fishing off St. Helena, catching enough to fill two ship’s buckets in a very short time and with no other bait than a few shreds of red rag. Suddenly the biting ceased, and as the water was beautifully clear, one could plainly discern the approach of a dim figure, large and powerfully built—in fact, a bonito—which just sniffed at the hooks and passed on majestically, after which the terrified mackerel returned—to the buckets!
This novel sport was very enjoyable, lasting until I was called away to conduct a party over the island and make a few purchases. The scenery was certainly lovely, and the various spots connected with the brief imprisonment of Napolean Buonaparte excited the interest of the entire party; yet I must confess that I should not care about it as a place of residence for any length of time: it is not to be compared with Madeira in any one particular.
The albacore, another of the Scomberidæ, is also frequently caught or harpooned; it is a much thicker and deeper fish than the last-named, sometimes attaining to an enormous size. Its flesh, too, is in much higher repute, and was equally appreciated by the nations of antiquity who dwelt upon the shores of the Mediterranean, in which sea it thrives along with its near relative the tunny. The dorsal fin, which is situated rather far back, graduates somewhat abruptly, vanishing into a number of small finlets up to its unusually crescentic tail with the same arrangement of finlets underneath.