The boats employed by the French and Dutch in the herring fishery are about sixty tons burden. They generally depart for the Orkney and Shetland isles. They afterwards betake themselves to the German Ocean, and fish the Channel in November and December. These boats carry up to sixteen hands, according to their size. Arrived at their fishing ground, they cast their nets, as seen in Pl. XXIX.
Plate XXIX.—The Herring Fishery.
The lines of the Dutch fishermen are five hundred feet in length, composed of fifty or sixty different nets. The upper parts of these nets are supported by empty barrels or cork-buoys, the lower edge being weighted with lead or stones, which are kept at a convenient depth by shortening or lengthening the cords by which the buoys are attached. The size of the mesh of the nets is such that the herrings of a certain size are caught in it by the gills and pectoral fins. If the first mesh is too large to hold them they pass through, and get caught by the next or succeeding mesh, which is smaller. The herring-fishery is regulated by Act of Parliament, and the legal mode of capture is by means of what is called a drift-net. The drift-net is made of fine twine, marked with squares of an inch each to allow for the escape of the young fish. The nets are measured by the barrel bulk, a net measuring fifty feet long by thirty-two deep, and each holding half a barrel. The drift is composed of many separate nets fastened together by means of a back rope, and each separate net of the series is marked off by a bladder or empty cask. The process is that described by Dr. Bertram in an article published in the "Cornhill Magazine." The writer had made his arrangement for a night at the herring fishery under the auspices of Francis Sinclair, a very gallant-looking fellow, who sails his own boat from Wick, and takes his own venture. Bounding over the waves with a good capful of wind, they had left the shore and beetling cliffs far behind them; they reached their fishing ground, where they tacked up and down, eagerly watching for the oily phosphorescent gleam which is indicative of herrings. "At last, after a lengthened cruise," he says, "our commander, who had been silent for half an hour, jumped up and called to action. 'Up, men, and at them!' was the order of the night. The preparations for shooting the nets at once began by lowering sail. Surrounding us on all sides was to be seen a moving world of boats; many with sails down, their nets floating in the water, and their crews at rest. Others were still flitting uneasily about, their skippers, like our own, anxious to shoot in the right place. By-and-by we were ready; the sucker goes splash into the water; the 'dog,' a large inflated bladder to mark the far end of the train, is heaved overboard, and the nets, breadth after breadth, follow as fast as the men can pay them out, till the immense train is all in the water, forming a perforated wall a mile long and many feet in depth; the 'dog' and the marking bladder floating and dipping in long zigzag lines, reminding one of the imaginary coils of the great sea-serpent. After three hours of quietude beneath a beautiful sky, the stars—
'The eternal orbs that beautify the night'—
began to pale their fires, and, the gray dawn appearing, indicated that it was time to take stock. We found that the boat had floated quietly with the tide till we were a long distance from the harbour. The skipper had a presentiment that there were fish in his net; and the bobbing down of a few of the bladders made it almost a certainty, and he resolved to examine the drifts. By means of the swing rope the boat was hauled up to the nets. 'Hurrah!' exclaimed Murdoch of Skye; 'there's a lot of fish, skipper, and no mistake.' Murdoch's news was true; our nets were silvery with herrings—so laden, in fact, that it took a long time to haul them in. It was a beautiful sight to see the shimmering fish as they came up like a sheet of silver from the water, each uttering a weak death-chirp as it was flung into the bottom of the boat. Formerly the fish were left in the meshes of the net till the boat arrived in the harbour; but now, as the net is hauled on board, they are at once shaken out. As our silvery treasure showers into the boat we roughly guess our capture at fifty crans—a capital night's work."
But there is a reverse to this medal. Wick Bay is not always rippled by the land-breeze as on this occasion. "The herring fleet has been more than once overtaken by a fierce storm, where valuable lives have been lost, and thousands of pounds worth of netting and boats destroyed, and the gladdening sights of the herring fishery have been changed to wailing and sorrow."
The Yarmouth boats are decked vessels of from fifty to eighty tons, with attendant boats, costing about one thousand pounds, and having stowage for about fifty lasts; nominally, ten thousand, but, counted fisherwise, thirteen thousand, herrings, besides provision for a five or six days' voyage. Leaving a hand or two in charge of the vessel, the majority of the crew are out in the smaller boats, fishing.
The Dutch herring fishery is usually pursued during the night. When the nets are in the water the boat is left, as we have seen in Dr. Bertram's excursion, to drift in the meantime. Each boat is furnished with a lantern, which serves the double purpose of attracting the shoals of fish, and preventing collisions with other boats. The herring fishery is extremely capricious in its results; one or two boats have been known to carry into port the whole takings of a night. Valenciennes witnessed the capture of a hundred and ten thousand herrings in less than two hours. The nets are hauled in when moderately charged with fish by the crew; but it is often necessary to have recourse to the capstan in the process. Some of the hands are stationed to detach the fish from the nets; others detach the nets from the buoys; while others again fold up and stow away the nets for future use.