Turtling is much resorted to by the inhabitants of Grand Cayman, 160 miles north-west from Jamaica. The turtle are now chiefly caught on the Mosquito coast, or on the South Keys of Cuba, and sold either in Jamaica or to homeward-bound vessels. Formerly, these valuable animals were abundant at Grand Cayman itself, but the very reprehensible practice which has prevailed there, for some years past of making use of large quantities of their eggs deposited on the shore, has almost frightened them entirely away.
In an account of Jamaica, published in 1683, we find the following statement respecting turtle hunting and other articles of food:—
‘Tortoise are taken much on this coast, but chiefly at the island of Caymanos, thirty leagues to the west of this island, whither the vessels go May, June, and July, to load of their flesh, that they pickle in bulk, and take them in that season when they come on shore to lay their eggs, which they do, and cover them with sand, that hatches them; and then by instinct they crawl to the sea, where they live, and feed on weed that grows in the bottom or floats. In many rivers and ponds of Jamaica, there is vast numbers of crocodiles or allegators, that is an amphibious creature, and breeds an egg, hatch’d by the sun in the sand. A tortoise egg is just like the yolk of a hen egg, of which she lays near a peck at a time; but the allegator but a few, and are like a turkey’s. Their flesh is not good; they are voracious, and live on fowls and beasts that they catch by surprise, but seldom or never hurt any man.
‘Here’s an Indian coney, called racoon, that is good meat; but of a distasteful shape, being something like an overgrown rat. The snakes in this island are not at all hurtful, but were eaten by the Indians as regular as the guanaes are by the Spaniards; it is but small, and of the shape of an allegator, and the flesh is sweet and tender.’
I was told a story not long ago of a distinguished American politician from the rural districts, who came to New York, and resolved to give a splendid dinner to some of his party friends. In order to make sure that everything should be of the very best quality, he went to the market himself, and bought first a turtle. After taking great pains to select one of the finest specimens in the lot, and ordering it to be sent home, he said to the tradesman, by way of making it quite right, ‘This is a right down genuine turtle, aint it?’
‘Oh, certainly,’ was the reply, ‘one of the very best.’
‘Because,’ he added, ‘although I ain’t been in the city long, I ain’t to be humbugged: it won’t do for you to try to put off any of your confounded mock turtles on me!’
The turtle dealer stood astounded at his customer’s sharpness.
Sir James E. Alexander calls Ascension ‘the headquarters of the finest turtle in the world,’ and his account of the operations connected with turtling in that locality is so interesting that I must copy it.
‘We walked down to the turtle ponds, two large enclosures near the sea, which flowed in and out through a breakwater of large stones. A gallows was erected between the two ponds, where the turtle are slaughtered for shipping, by suspending them by the hind flippers and then cutting their throats. About 300 turtle of four and five hundred pounds each lay on the sand or swam about in the ponds—a sight to set an alderman mad with delight!