July 1901.JULY 1901.
JULY 1901.
Excessiveheat, coupled with an unusual continuance of fog, have been the principle features of this month. The continual booming of our explosive fog-signal every five minutes, night and day, would be rather apt to “get on” a stranger’s nerves were he compelled to sleep within a few feet of it; as a rule, it does not disturb us in the least, but with such protracted spells as we have had this month it does become a trifle irksome. The first shot generally sends the beads of some of the window cases rattling down the traps. This has a more disturbing effect on us when asleep than the actual shot itself, of which we are just dimly conscious.
The few boats which have been prosecuting the lobster fishing here for the last three months have now abandoned it. Although fairly successful at the commencement, they were latterly reduced to a mere pittance. A return of four lobsters for the hauling of fifty “sunks” is but a precarious living. Anchored close to the Rock, in order to avoid being run down by prowling trawlers, they often passed the night, sleeping underneath their sails. Their cooking range, consisting of an old metal pail with holes punched through the sides, set on a stone slab, while an empty meat tin did duty as kettle, fish-pan, or tea-pot, as occasion required. It is only within this year or two that the Rock has again attracted the attention of the lobster fisher, after a lapse of many years. Prior to that time, we could always rely on an occasional lobster being found in the holes on the Rock at low water; while crabs, which could be had in abundance, are now extremely scarce, and the lobster, as far as we are concerned, might well be as extinct as the Dodo. We had rather a surprising catch in a lobster-creel one time here. On hauling our creel, instead of the expectant lobster a huge conger-eel was found in possession, his girth just barely admitting him through the “funnel.” A further surprise, however, awaited us; for, on being cut open, a full-grown lobster was found in his stomach. How the biter in this case escaped being bitten is a mystery, as one would naturally suppose the lobster, with his powerful claws, would be more than his match. This recalls an incident which happened the other day. A pretty little fish, of a kind we had not yet seen, was, after some manœuvring, placed in a bucket of water along with some other fish, sea weeds, and shells. On examining our catch a little later, our pretty stranger was nowhere visible; suspicion falling on an ugly-looking little “poach” complacently resting at the bottom of the bucket, Jeddart justice was summarily meted out to the suspected cannibal; a post-mortem conclusively established his guilt. That these fish are cannibals there is not the slightest doubt. I picked up one about a foot long on a beach in Orkney, which had partly succeeded in swallowing, tail first, a brother half his size, but had been choked in the attempt; the horns on either side of his victim’s head becoming embedded in his gullet, he could neither entertain nor reject him. Amongst the numerousaliasesby which the “Poach” is known are thefollowing—Bullhead, Hardhead, Cobbler, Shoemaker, Gunflucker, Comper, and Johnny Mainland, the latter being his Orcadian name.
The terns have increased to over a hundred this month; from daylight to dark their creaking voices are dinning in our ears. Most active little birds, they are almost continually on the wing, wheeling and diving with wonderful celerity. Their prey beingsurface-swimmers—chiefly herring-fry atpresent—necessitate a dive of only a few inches. The young birds, of which there is a goodly sprinkling, though almost as big as the parents, have not yet acquired the forked tail nor the pronounced plumage of the older birds. Awanting also in dexterity, they are being frequently fed by their parents. It is amusing to witness the chagrin of a youngster when, as sometimes happens, an old one has mistaken it for its own offspring, and only discovers the error when about to drop the glistening prize into its gaping mouth. Woe to the gull who dares invade their sphere of operations when following a shoal of “fry”; he is soon put to rout at the point of thebayonet—for their bills are quite as sharp pointed. While stationed in Orkney I have, when in the vicinity of their nests, been “assaulted to the effusion of blood” as the police reports say, their bills easily penetrating my tweed cap. Horses and cattle are driven in mad flight before these bold little birds, they all the while pecking mercilessly till well clear of their nursery.
The pleasure steamers which formerly visited the Rock from Leith and Dundee have this summer scarcely made an appearance, possibly the attractions of the Glasgow Exhibition is the cause; as yet, only three visits have been made, and these from Dundee. An hour’s fishing is generally given the passengers by the Dundee steamer. The diversity of tackle with which some of these amateur fishermen are equipped is fearful, and clock-weights, half-bricks, and scrap-iron of every conceivable shape take the place of the ordinary sinker. Closely ranged along the vessel’s sides, one can imagine the result of lines so differently weighted, and should a fish be hooked confusion follows. If the sea happens to be a bit “choppy” many of them may be seen earnestly engaged in compulsorily contributing to the support of their erstwhile intended prey, each drawing his own line of demarcation down the vessel’s side, as if suspicious of his neighbour encroaching on his territory.