Hauling on this rope and “pursing” the seine is the hardest part of the entire job, and takes the united efforts of the seine-boat’s crew. It is also a most exciting operation, for if it is successfully accomplished the fish are caught and an ample reward for all the previous toil is almost certain. If, on the other hand, the fish take alarm at the last moment and dart downward through the still open bottom of the net, all the hard work goes for nothing and must be done over again, perhaps many times before a successful haul is made.
Such was the case in this instance. Success was almost within reach of the Curlew’s crew, when suddenly the entire school of fish, upon which they were building such high hopes, dropped out of sight like so many leaden plummets, and were gone. They had evidently decided that there were more chances for life among the sharks and dog-fish than within the power of their human enemies, and had wisely seized their last chance of escape from them.
It was a bitter disappointment, and it was made the keener by the sight of certain movements on board the rival schooner that indicated a successful pursing of their seine and a heavy catch of fish. Slowly, and with much grumbling over their hard luck, the Curlew’s men gathered in their net and empty seine. They piled it up carefully, rings forward and corks aft, in the after-part of their boat, ready for the next time. Then they listlessly pulled towards their schooner, which was lying near by, and on board which breakfast awaited them.
The Curlew sailed close to the other schooner in order to learn her luck, and witness the lively scene about her. The stranger’s seine had enclosed an enormous school of fish, which was estimated at nearly, if not quite, five hundred barrels. One end of it had been got on board the schooner, and the dipping out of the fish was about to begin. They were greatly frightened, and rushed from side to side with such violence that many of them were crushed to death. All at once they sank, and their weight was so great as to draw one gunwale of the heavy seine-boat under the water, although eight men were perched on the opposite side to counterbalance it.
When a crew find a greater quantity of fish on their hands than they can take care of, as was the case now, it is customary, if there is another vessel within hail, to give her the surplus rather than to throw it away. Having often done this himself, Captain Coffin did not hesitate, as the two schooners drew close together, to hail the other skipper and ask if he had any fish to give away.
“No, I haven’t,” was the surly answer. “If you want fish go and catch ’em.”
“All right,” answered Captain Coffin, somewhat provoked, but still good-naturedly; “we’re the lads can just do that, and we’ll beat you into New York yet.”
“Looks like it now, doesn’t it?” shouted the other, scornfully. “If you do, though, it won’t be because I helped you. I’d rather lose every fish I’ve got alongside here than to give you one of them.”
These words were hardly out of his mouth when the captured fish darted violently towards the bottom of the net, and the seine-boat was nearly capsized, as has been related. Its crew hurriedly scrambled to the upper side. Suddenly the boat righted, so quickly that the whole eight men were flung overboard, and found themselves floundering in the cold water.
The situation was startling as well as comical, though the explanation of what had happened was very simple. The frightened fish, in their downward rush, had torn a great hole in the net, which was an old one, and through it they had instantly darted to depths of safety. The seine, being thus relieved of its burden, no longer pulled the boat down, and it at once yielded to the weight of the men on its upper gunwale.