Actually it is one of the hardest bits of work a man can do. If the first shoot of the nets is successful the boulter is baited without delay, and the luggers may sail away at once far beyond the Eddystone to the fishing-grounds some fifty miles from Draeth. Often, however, it happens that the nets are shot two, three, or even four times before the men have fish enough to bait the hooks.
The boulter is made up of thick, weighted ropes. As each boulter is fitted with two thousand hooks, and as these hooks are fastened to it with cotton-line about eight or nine feet apart, it follows that the whole boulter is from three to four miles long.
All the two thousand hooks pass four times through the hands of the men on the lugger. First of all they must be baited, and after this they must be shot. To the end of the boulter that is shot first from the boat a cork buoy bearing a flag is fastened. This is called the dan. At the middle of the boulter is a second dan. “This,” as Tregennis had explained to the ladies, “do give a second chanst, for when once ’tis gone overboard you can’t never even say it do belong to ee. Anythin’ may ’appen to ’e, you can’t never tell.”
When the fish is caught on the two thousand deadly hooks these pass for the third time through the fishermen’s hands, for now they must be hauled. Lastly, when the lugger is back in the harbour, they must all be cleared, not cleared of the catch only, but of all the mutilated bits of bait. Then they are thoroughly cleaned, carefully coiled round and put away in readiness for the next time the boats are afloat.
Miss Margaret and Miss Dorothea were discussing the heaviness of the work and the hard lot of the fisher-folk as they watched the luggers sail away round the curve of the coast towards Mevagissey and the bait.
As they spoke a cormorant dived in front of them beneath the water.
“There!” said Miss Dorothea, indignantly. “Just as if it wasn’t enough for these people to have steam-trawlers, and weather and dog-fish in array against them! And now the cormorants are coming in flocks and are eating up all the smaller fish along the coast. It’s an arrant shame!”
It was just one o’clock. The last lugger had rounded the curve. The ladies picked up their books and walked slowly home over the polished rocks and along the firm wide stretch of sand that grew still wider as the tide flowed slowly out.