“Yes––and seining this spring. But suppose now you were haddocking––trawling––eight or ten dories, and you just arrived on the grounds, picked out a good spot, and there you are––you’re all baited up and ready?”
“Winter time?”
“Winter time, yes.”
“First I’d single-reef the mains’l. Then I’d hold her up a little––not too much––me being skipper would be to the wheel myself––and then 32 I’d give the order, ‘Dories to the rail!’ and then, when everything was all right––when I’d be satisfied we wouldn’t foul the next vessel’s trawls––I’d call out, ‘Over with your wind’ard dory!’”
“Loud and clear you’d holler, because the wind might be high.”
“Loud and clear, yes––‘Let go your wind’ard dory!’––like that. And ‘Set to the west’ard,’ or the east’ard, whatever it was––according to the tide, you know. I’d call that out to the dory as it went sliding by the quarter––the vessel, of course, ’d be sailing all the time––and next, ‘Wind’ard dory to the rail!’ And then, when we’d gone ahead enough, again, ‘Let go your looard dory!’ and then, ‘Looard dory to the rail! Let go your wind’ard dory! Let go your looard dory!’ and so till they were all over the side.”
“And supposing, they being all out, it came on thick, or snowing, and some of them went astray, and it was time to go home, having filled her with eighty or ninety or a hundred thousand of fresh fish, a fair wind, and every prospect of a good market––what then?”
“Oh, I’d have to wait, of course––cruise around and stand by.”
“And suppose you couldn’t find them again?”
“Why, after waiting until I was sure they were gone, I’d come home.”