The profits of the business soon attracted many outside capitalists, and it became difficult to procure divers. Not only did the pearlers—and particularly new-comers—resort to impressing the blacks into service, but skilled fishermen were brought over from the Malay Archipelago, and in some cases the methods used in securing them were by no means regular.
In 1871 the Northwest pearl fishery gave employment to 12 vessels of 15 to 50 tons each, and yielded about 180 tons of mother-of-pearl. During the same year, in Torres Straits, where the industry had extended about 1868, there were 10 vessels—mostly from the port of Sydney—and the catch of mother-of-pearl approximated 200 tons, valued at £60,000 in London.[[250]] Each vessel was commonly manned by two or three white men and from ten to fifty divers, who worked from dinghys, in gangs of six or eight each with an overseer in charge.
As the fishery increased rapidly in extent, the problem of securing nude divers became a serious one, and “nigger hunting” became rather common, the Australian black man representing the cheapest form of labor, working for his food, tobacco, and the simplest articles of clothing. There was no complaint that the men thus impressed were treated with inhumanity; on the contrary they were well fed and cared for; yet, with a view to protecting them and preventing even a suspicion of wrong-doing, the Australian government enacted regulations restricting pearling contracts with the natives. Nearly every year these regulations became more stringent, affecting the hours for diving, and limiting the work to depths of six and a half fathoms, so that the employment of Australian aborigines in the fishery became extremely troublesome and annoying.
The government of the Netherlands also placed severe restrictions on the employment of natives of the Dutch Indies, requiring security of £20 per head for the repatriation of each man; and the local chiefs or rajahs also expected a rake-off before permitting their men to ship. These Malays—from the islands of Solor, Allor, Adonare, etc.,—also expected much better pay and better provisions than the Australian blacks.
The following interesting account by Henry Taunton gives a graphic description of the fishery as carried on at that time:
The work was far from easy. It was exhausting and perilous for the divers, and full of privation, exposure, and danger for the white men. Only the hope of a prosperous season reconciled one to the life. When shells were plentiful and the weather fine, the work was exciting and interesting enough; but during rough weather, when one had to be constantly straining at the oar to keep the dinghy from drifting too rapidly, or when hour after hour might pass without the men bringing up a single shell, the discouragement was great. The rays of the vertical sun beating down on one’s shoulders at such times seemed as if it would never reach the western horizon, which was the signal for returning on board.
As may well be imagined, when three or four white men had to control and compel some thirty or forty natives to carry on work which they detested, a very strict discipline had to be maintained. It was the rule that no talking was allowed amongst the divers when in the dinghy, nor were they even permitted to address the white man, unless, maybe, to answer a question as to the nature of the bottom, whether nanoo (sand) or bannin (shelly bottom), etc., or unless some urgent necessity arose. Sometimes, indeed, I have pushed off from the vessel’s side of a morning and have not heard a word spoken until we returned on board at night, unless chance might take me within hail of some other dinghy, when felicitations or condolences would be exchanged, as good or bad luck might happen. At times, when the “patch” was small, the dinghys of the whole fleet might be congregated on a very small area, in which case the scene was animated enough. On all sides you could see divers slipping into the water and others just coming to the surface, puffing, blowing, and coughing to clear their eyes, ears, and mouth from the salt water—some with, others without shells. Others would be swimming to regain their dinghy or squatting in their places for the few minutes’ rest permitted, and, if the wind were at all fresh, shivering with cold; for although the weather might be extremely hot, the constant plunging in and out for many hours at a time tended to reduce the bodily temperature considerably. The white men would be seen standing up in each dinghy. They were lightly clad, with shirt sleeves and trousers rolled up, in all varieties and colours of costume, from the regulation shirt, trousers, and felt hat, with leather belt sustaining sheath-knife and pouch, to the more comfortable pyjama suit, or even the Malay sarong. Some would be straining hard at the end of the scull-oar, forcing the boat against wind and tide in the endeavor to keep it as long as possible on the “patch,” which was marked by the discoverer’s buoy, which also might be observed nodding on the surface, and canted over by the swiftly rushing tide. Others, their men all being below, just kept the dinghy’s head to wind until, by judicious use of the oar and well-calculated drifting, all the divers reappear on the surface within a short distance from their own boat. This is the secret of saving the divers from wasting their powers and time uselessly.... As may be supposed, where the tide sweeps the divers along the bottom at the rate of three or four or even six miles an hour, they have to be very smart in seeking and grabbing any shell within reach. I have never tested them with a time-keeper; but by counting seconds on many occasions, from the moment a diver’s head sank below until it again came above the surface, I estimated the average time under water was fifty-seven seconds. Part of this is of course expended in swimming to the bottom, where they can remain only a very few seconds, as time must be allowed for reaching the surface before letting go their breath. Practice in ever-varying depths enables them to gauge this limit of time to a nicety. But sometimes they cut things too fine, and then a catastrophe was inevitable, unless much watchfulness was exercised by the white man, who has to keep his eyes turned in all directions once his men are down. So long as a diver can hold his breath the pressure forces him to the surface at a speed which seldom requires accelerating by strokes with the hands or feet; but the moment he lets go his breath—if under water—his upward course is arrested and his body commences to sink. Now, when the white man sees this, either he must plunge in to the rescue himself, or direct such divers who may be on the top to do the needful.
On a calm day, when one can see far into the blue clear depths below, I have often seen one of my men shooting rapidly upwards until within perhaps a foot or two from the surface, when a sudden gush of bubbles from the man’s mouth would tell its own tale. Instantly he would begin to sink gently downwards, and only quick action could save this diver who had miscalculated his time. However, as it was not infrequent for divers to go down and never come up at all, one may conclude that, where the time to be allowed is comprised in so few seconds, even the most experienced make fatal errors.[[251]]
The difficulties in securing labor at length resulted in experiments with the scaphander or diving dress, and gradually its adoption by most of the pearling fleet. The labor problem and the exhaustion of the oysters in medium depths developed more quickly in Torres Straits than on the northwest coast, and diving outfits were introduced there about 1879, while this was delayed about five years longer on the northwest coast. The outfit did not immediately supplant nude diving in either locality. In 1883, only 80 of the 206 Queensland vessels were supplied with scaphanders, the others continuing to use nude diving, and even yet nearly one third of the vessels depend on that form of fishery. Of the 353 vessels fishing in 1904, 108 depended on nude divers and 245 were supplied with armored equipment.
In 1881 the Queensland government took cognizance of the rapidly developing industry, and enacted a license system and other regulations. For every boat under two tons an annual license fee of £1 (in 1886 this was reduced to ten shillings) was enacted, and for every vessel of ten tons or under, the sum of £3, with an additional amount for vessels in excess of that measurement; but not exceeding £20 in any case.[[252]] In 1886 it was required by the Queensland government that every person employed “as a diver, and using a diving apparatus,” must be licensed annually, for which a fee of £1 is exacted.[[253]] And in 1891 it was required that “every diving dress and air-pump and all air-tubes and gear used in the fishery in connection with diving must be submitted to an inspector for examination once at least in every period of six months.”[[254]] The license system was adopted in Western Australia in 1886, a fee of £1 per annum being exacted for each vessel engaged in the fishery.[[255]] In 1891, South Australia adopted the license system, requiring that every boat of two tons or under should pay ten shillings, and that each boat over that measurement should pay twenty shillings.