March 1903MARCH 1903.
MARCH 1903.
Traditionallycorrect, the advent of this month was decidedly leonine, and its exit as certainly lamb-like; but between these periods, though a few really beautiful days could be credited to the latter symbol of peacefulness, the lion was largely in the ascendant. Borne on the off-shore wind comes the odour ofheather—not the fragrant perfume one usually associates with this sweet-smelling plant, but the smoky incense consequent on moor-burning—and at night the higher levels of the coast line exhibit lights which are certainly not recognised in the Mariners’ Sailing Directions.
Over a score of steam trawlers have been busy in our neighbourhood all the month. Sunday or Saturday is all the same to them; they are at it night and day, and the weather must be bad indeed to detain them in port. Often they are seen passing here burying themselves to the foremast in the seas on their way to the fishing grounds, perhaps twenty miles outside of us. The Rock seems to be a recognised stage in their journey; for, whenever abreast of it, over goes their log, and a compass course is laid for the distant banks. Here, far outside the three-mile limit, the presence of theBrendaor theMinna[1]causes no alarm; and, providing their numbers are correctly exposed, receive no interference from these coasting policemen. A few summers ago, one of these same trawlers, while on her way out from Dundee one Sunday, surprised us by driving right up on the reef in broad daylight, a hundred yards from the tower. Fortunately, the sea was like glass at the time, otherwise the consequences must have been disastrous. The tide being on the ebb, their attempts to back off were unsuccessful; and there they remained hard and fast from one o’clock till six in the evening, when a passing trawler succeeded in towing them off, evidently none the worse of their brief acquaintance with the Bell Rock. During their detention, the crew paid us a visit in their boat, recalling to our mind a story in which a clumsily handled brig, in coming to an anchorage in a crowded harbour, ran aboard of a vessel already anchored. Visiting this vessel a few days later, to apologise for the occurrence, the offender was thus announced by the steward: “CaptainS——has come on board, Sir.” “Oh, indeed,” sarcastically remarked the aggrieved mariner. “Has he brought his brig with him?”
The rocks are this year more plentifully strewn with mussel-spawn and acorn barnacles than usual; and already the whelks have sallied from their winter’s sleep, bent on their destruction. Hundreds of hermit crabs have also made their appearance, notably first in the deeper pools, but gradually taking up their quarters in the shallows. Towards the end of the month, a few small spats of paidlefish spawn were seen deposited in convenient crevices of the rocks. This is unusually early for “nesting” operations, and engenders hopes of an early fishing, as the ova is generally the first inducement for the wandering cod to come within reach of our rods. Numerous clusters of the wheat-like ova of the white whelk are also seen; but, unlike that of the paidlefish(lumpsucker)—which may be detached from its gelatinous fastenings in a solidmass—each egg adheres separately by its own footstalk. Though the adult “paidles” are only to be seen here during the period ofincubation—the term seems quite applicable, seeing that the guardian “cock” is always in close attendance, with his nose thrust into the centre of the mass of ova, at which point there is always a depression, and frequently a hole right throughit—juveniles are occasionally met with at all seasons; and, on the first anniversary of their birthday, are seen to have attained the length of two inches.
Numbers of peculiar looking slugs are met with at present, somewhat resembling a section of a small orange with the skin attached. On their upper surface, near to one end, a minute orifice is seen, through which a small rosette like arrangement is protruded when at rest, but which is instantly withdrawn when the animal is disturbed. This is the only visible sign of life in this otherwise inert object, and is probably its means of obtaining a living. Its under or ambulatory surface is similar to that of a limpet, without its tenacity, but with a somewhat similar rate of progression. Another small slug noticed thismonth—no larger than one’s finger nail and recalling the general appearance of the “fretful porcupine,” with “quills” arranged along its back, and displaying beautiful shades of brilliant blue and crimson.
Saturday, 14th.—A beautiful warm sunny day, the sea like glass, dappled here and there with great greasy-like patches peculiar to still weather. Flocks of eiders, longtails, and gulls appear to be having a day off, and float listlessly hither and thither, seeming only intent on making themselves aggressively audible in the stillness, the longtails piping a shrill treble to the sonorous bass of the eiders, while the gulls contribute a fairly good imitation of a laughing chorus. Later, the gulls are seen to bestir themselves, as myriads of small circles break the glassy surface in their vicinity, betraying the presence of “fry,” their legitimate food. Pecking from side to side as they float silently through the shoal, they evidently enjoy the feast thus provided for them. The sight of the gulls thus engaged apparently reminds the ducks of their negligence in this respect, and paddling full speed ahead, they are soon busy diving in the shallower water of the reef. The longtails push their way right up to the base of the tower, round which they are seen circling, plucking at the green vegetation adhering to the stonework, and cackling loudly as they breathe for a few seconds on the surface, all unconscious of our presence on the balcony above them. A small piece of coal dropped while they are still under water causes them to shoot away like startled minnows, and only when they have put some distance between them and the source of alarm do they make their appearance on the surface, evidently much flustered by the mysterious noise. Though a couple of fathoms deep, their alarm was apparent at the same moment the coal struck the surface, proving that the sound and not the appearance of the falling body was the disturbing cause. The end of the month still sees them in close attendance, but any day now may witness their exodus. But few spring migrants have come our way this month, principally a few blackbirds, thrushes, and starlings.
[1]Fishery Board cruisers.