SWORD FISHING IN THE EARLY DAYS

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 22, 18 April 1927, Page 6

SWORD FISHING IN THE EARLY DAYS

(Written for THE SUN by Captain Oswald Schulze.) JJEOPLE of extensive reading must have come across the remark .when reading of the mercantile fleet of Great Britain a century or more ago, that some of her vessels coming home, notably from the Indies, arrived in a very leaky state and that only by the heroic effort of the crew in keeping the pumps going day and night were the vessels saved and brought to port. Upon examination of the vessels in dock it was sometimes found (or so they said) that the sword of a large swordfish had penetrated a ship's bottom and put her into a leaky state. In my opinion it must have been honest work and not swordfish which caused . such leaks. Vessels of that time were built of solid oak —the planks of any large vessel were three inches thick—and if a swordfish could not penetrate the two-inch plank of an eighty-ton schooner, as I will presently explain, neither could one eleven feet six inches or even twice that size, which they never obtain, penetrate the three-inch oak planks of a ship. A seaman would sooner believe a yarn which went around New Bedford half a century or more ago that a cow pursuing a whaleboat which had killed her calf finding that the boat had taken shelter behind her ship of eight hundred tons, ran into the vessel and sunk her bodily! A large sperm whale’s front is as large as the top of a dining-table 10ft x 4ft. at least. It would deliver a horrible blow. But would the vessel offer sufficient resistance for such a blow to sink her? I doubt it. I sailed for a considerable time between Sophia Island, the innermost of the Ellis Group, and Samoa. To the south-east of Sophia, just within sight of it, are extensive shoals with eight to ten fathoms of water. These shoals ‘swarm with fish and sharks —a sure place to find swordfish. Calms at certain seasons of the year are frequent. On the occasion of which I write, having had some days calm, a light breeez sprang up. The vessel was making about two miles with a

glossy sea. We had a lieavy fishing line and hook out astern, baited for sharks, which we could see now and again. Presently we sighted a bonita (a heavy fish, two to three feet long) appearing from underneath the stern of the vessel, skipping along on top of the water, evidently in great terror. It had been wounded trying to escape from a swordfish which we could not then see. This swordfish must have charged the bonita first and having pierced its victim—as is the custom of his kind—had prepared to shake it to pieces in readiness for fi meal. Losing sight of its prey the monster dashed from under the stern, mistook our shark’s bait for a tasty morsel of bonita and speedily swallowed it. We have read of fighting salmon which make off at right-angles from the captor; those are the tactics of the swordfish with this difference—one can easily tire a salmon! I had a big Samoan halfcaste on board as mate. The Samoans are invariably good fishermen, whereas my skill in that respect does not amount to much. The yells of the cook and crew when friend swordfish was hooked brought the coloured mate on deck. I handed him the line which was a very long one. When, the fish went off at right-angles he gave him the scope of the whole line. This he hauled in and paid out frequently until he had the fish fairly close to the vessel. I asked him why he did not haul him right on board. “I would like to,” he replied, “but unless I tire him he will break away from a line that is not very strong for a fish of his size.” Thus he played the swordfish. Suddenly he checked the line with a quick jerk which brought the fish to a standstill and infuriated him for he made straight for the ship, striking her three inches below the waterline, piercing copper and plank to the depth of one inch, at which point the sword broke and stuck. (Subsequently we recovered it.) That stunned him. Before he recovered from the blow we had him alongside and a heavy harpoon did its work. After the fish had ceased lashing the water in his death struggles we put a tackle on the mast and took him on board. He was twelve feet six inches long and weighed between five and six hundredweight. The flesh was white and of good flavour as long as it was fresh, but my native crew salted the whole of it and used every morsel, either pickled or dry salted.