Part 7

The proper way to capture these creatures, if any one cares about an occasional hour’s excitement, is with the harpoon. As for catching them on the rod, it is only done by foul hooking, and it merely strains the arms and tackle in what cannot be described as a very good cause. Harpooning, however, may be really exciting, and I will try to describe such an adventure to the best of my recollection.

You take the harpoon and get your guide to row you along the shore northwards. Standing in the bows, behind the neatly coiled harpoon line, you keep a sharp lookout for game, and very soon you see a mighty disc lying on the sand at no great depth. Poising the harpoon in the air, you let drive at the object of your desires; it vanishes in a trailing cloud of sand, and you have an opportunity of seeing how poor a shot you made by insufficient allowance for refraction, which, of course, distorts the size, shape, and position of objects under water; and, as you assure yourself that in this case the harpoon went a good five feet ahead of the fish, you resolve to study the position of the next more accurately.

Look out! Here is a long, dark object coming straight at you. It is a shark. Let him have it right in the neck. That is better. The harpoon has struck this time. Habet! Only the weapon has entered near the tail, not within four feet of the spot you thought to reach. You have to keep the rope close to the bow, or the brute may capsize you. But the harpoon has come away, and you coil the rope for the next comer. There is a sting ray right under your boat. No calculation necessary this time. You strike it fair in the centre. Be careful how you handle it, for should it get its spike into you, you will remember the wrenching out of the barbs.

All ready again! See that dark patch a hundred yards ahead! It is a whip ray, weighing perhaps 400 lb. How gracefully it flies beneath the water! You take careful note of its bearings, and reckon that it lies about seven feet deep and perhaps seventeen feet ahead. This means that the centre of the fish is some nine feet nearer to you than appears to be the case. Good! You threw too far again, but the ray is struck near the head, and you will get some sport anyhow.

The infuriated fish tows the boat in all directions. It is too heavy to haul in, and must be got ashore. This is not very difficult, for you let it run free when heading in that direction, and check it when making a move for deeper water. At last it is beached. There is no occasion to cut out the harpoon, for all you need do is to thrust in your finger and press up the barb on either side, and it comes away at once.

As a trophy, the back of this ray, with its black ground and small white rings within larger ones, characteristic of old fish, makes a handsome table cover. The tail is about six feet in length, and less in thickness than a cedar pencil, and at its base are three or four barbed spears. It feeds entirely on crustacea, never taking a fish bait, and is caught only by foul hooking. In the roof of the whip ray’s mouth will be seen a series of processes like corrugated grinding stones, and there is a corresponding series on the lower jaw. It is between these that the shell fish are thoroughly triturated. I have somewhere read that the male rays have sharper teeth and no grinding arrangement, but I am not sufficiently acquainted with the sex distinctions to bear this out.

CHAPTER VII

Harpooning a Monster

CHAPTER VII

HARPOONING A MONSTER

I remember another exciting adventure, which resulted in the capture of a giant ray, weighing many hundred pounds. The wind had just gone to the south after many days of cold northers, and, whereas it would require several days of such wind to bring the tarpon back to a feeding humour, this first breath from the south was sufficient to stir up a long line of foam and slush that means food to the devil-fish. Twenty feet and upwards across these monsters may measure, and they have been taken weighing over 4,000 lb. In the corners of the mouth, which gapes like a letter-box, are coiled fans that are used in waving the food into the throat. Three of these devil-fish we saw on the day in question, coming along and raising breakers as if they were steam-propelled rafts. With the tips of their great wings occasionally showing, and their huge shining black backs continually appearing above the surface, they looked very terrible.

In full pursuit was the man with the harpoon, who had been waiting such a chance for weeks. And now, as we can plainly see, he is close to this moving line of flesh. Whiz goes the harpoon, hurled by a strong and practised arm; not only the metal head, but also the shaft is deeply buried in that three-feet slab of flesh, and the maddened monster bounds off with lightning speed. The next moment the man changes places with his guide, no easy proceeding in a slender 14ft. craft, but it is necessary that he should do so, for he killed a devil-fish alone not a month since, and the skin has not yet grown again on his raw hands. Ere the boat has got properly under way a loose bight of rope catches the guide round the leg, and flings him into the gunwale; there is plenty of way on now, and a dangerous list into the bargain as the bow dips under water. The man rushes, knife in hand, to his guide’s assistance, but the latter succeeds with great dexterity in freeing himself from the coils, and there is no need to cut loose.

And now the pace grows fast and furious. Eighty feet of line are out, waves are flying from the bow, and the boat speeds so that no launch in Florida could catch her. The great fish is close to the bottom, and suddenly shifts its course. This manœuvre is like to cost it dear, for it enables six

other boats, which had already stopped fishing, to join in the chase, to cut off a corner and hitch on to the circling harpoon boat. A seventh boat from the fishing grounds has failed to make connection, and, before the day is over, others will wish they had done likewise.

On, and ever on, speeds this extraordinary procession, the like of which was surely never seen under other circumstances, propelled by an unseen power to an unknown destination with a force so great that it makes no account so far of the additional strain on its resources. Some have tried to back water as a check on the runaway, and have for their pains been almost thrown out of the boats and had the oars torn from, their hands. Onward they tear, the great fish keeping carefully in the deep channel-way, and avoiding treacherous shallows on its unrestrained course to the open sea. When the ray has thus run for five miles, it quite suddenly doubles on its course, with the surprising and discomforting result that the seven boats are tied in a knot. Quickly they will have to extricate themselves, else, as it is impossible to go full speed ahead in that formation, over they must go.

The pace gradually slackens during the next three miles, and at last all oars are shipped and the guides back water. This is not without its effect on the “devil,” who promptly heads again for the open sea, and moves on until the shore is but a streak on the horizon. Anxious eyes are now seeking for the smoke of the steamer that they hope will have been sent to their assistance. It is two hours or more since the giant was first harpooned, and it is tiring sufficiently to allow of its being brought now and again to the surface to receive a Winchester bullet or two in its spine. Its mighty wings still flap, however, and it is like some great unwieldy water bird for ever struggling onwards. And now the welcome smoke can just be seen in the distance, though it will take the steamer a good hour to reach the ground, and goodness knows how many hours to tow such a flotilla home.

Only two hours of daylight remain, and one of these is well nigh gone ere the steamer comes along, and promptly crashes into the somewhat erratic harpoon boat, striking her fair amidships, almost the worst disaster of the day. Fortunately she was a nice limp boat with scarce a sound rib in her, and she gave so freely to the sudden blow that little fresh damage was done and she leaked but slightly more than usual. The rest of the day’s sport, the slaying and towing ashore of the giant ray, was a matter of time only, yet, curiously enough, when that man went harpooning devil-fish again he went alone. The rest of the company had somehow lost all taste for such weird recreation.

CHAPTER VIII

The Loggerhead Turtle

CHAPTER VIII

THE LOGGERHEAD TURTLE

One of the favourite objects of the harpoon in those waters is the loggerhead turtle, and as the procedure differs in some respects from that followed in the pursuit of the unprofitable ray, I will attempt to give some account of the way in which amateurs spear their turtle. If you must catch your turtle before you cook him, you must as surely find one before you can spear him. Turtles are in the habit of coming up for a breather somewhere about slack water, and at such times they may be seen basking lazily at the surface.

A small and sharp harpoon is necessary to penetrate the turtle’s shell, and it is important to make this change in your equipment if you go from rays to turtles. All being ready, your guide paddles you as quietly as possible into the pass, and you must get in the way of standing motionless in the bow in a slight lop, for roughish weather is undoubtedly the best for turtle-spearing.

At length you see a great loggerhead some three hundred yards ahead on the port bow. The loggerhead turtle is the most common on this coast; the more delicate green turtle is the rarest; and between them in point of numbers comes the leathery species. It is most important, when you have sighted a turtle, to creep up as close and as quickly as possible, without making the slightest noise. You must even stand quite steady and crouch without kicking the boat, as the least disturbance may send the turtle to the bottom. The great thing is to restrain yourself from letting drive with the harpoon until the most favourable moment, and the most favourable moment is that at which you are closest to your quarry, so that it may feel the full force of the harpoon.

If, when you are within reach, the turtle shows signs of diving, in with the harpoon; otherwise, get a little nearer. Now put all your back into the cast, and the barbed point goes clipping through the shell. You think that it did not penetrate very far? Well, your instinct is probably correct, so it will be as well to fix another dart ready and, playing him gently the while, strike again the moment he comes up to breathe. He may remain beneath the surface fully twenty minutes, on the move the whole while, but he will soon want air after that time has elapsed. If you were sure of having struck the barb well home, the more usual course

would be to haul in at once; but it is sometimes safe to give the case the benefit of the doubt, and to handle the captive gingerly at first, until a second blow has made things doubly sure.

Up he comes at last; a second barb is driven into shell and flesh; and now, being quite sure that there is a firm hold, you alter your tactics and haul boldly. As he comes floundering to the surface you seize one flipper (careful! that beak, which is fashioned to crush the strongest shells, could easily nip your hand off at the wrist!) while the guide lays hold of the other. You both keep well on the opposite side of the boat to prevent her collapsing, and the turtle, weighing 200 lb., is finally lifted in tail first and laid on his back. You are very careful to keep your legs out of his way, for the flippers hit hard and the male’s nails tear deep. Blindly in his impotent wrath he flounders, striking out in all directions and chipping away planks like matchwood if he gets the chance.

Before hoisting in a turtle, see that your oars are properly stowed away. We once landed a heavy loggerhead upon an oar half drawn into the boat, with the result that it was driven through the bottom, and the accident discovered only when the boat was a third full of water. In spite of hard bailing, by the time the turtle had been shifted, and the guide had whipped off his shirt and stuffed it into the hole, the boat was in a sinking condition, and the turtle had most of the fun to itself.