Fisherman & farmer. [volume] (Edenton, N.C.) 1887-19??, 1889-08-30
A RHINOCEROS OF THE SEA.
CATCHING A GREAT SwoRDFISH
OFF BLOCK ISLAND.
ParaphernaIia of Fisherman-Ihe
Death-DeaIing Dart-An Ocean
Monsters Desperate Fight for Life.


Ex-Congressman Amos J. Cummings
writes from Block Island to the New
York Sun a breezy account of trip after
swordfish which he took in a small
schooner. We quote as follows:
Block Island lies at the entrance
of Long Island Sound, between Maria
gansett Bay and Montauk. The island
has about 1900 inhabitants in winter and
between 5000 and 6O00in summer. The
natives are mostly hardy fishermen.
The Napoleon of all the tinny tribe is
the swordtish He is courageous and
voraclous. Like the rhinocercs, he
carries a deadly weapon upon his nose,
and is INSCRIPTIONS in its use. Indeed,
he may be aptly termed the rhinoceros OF
the seas. The waters of Block Island are
his summer home. Nowhere in American
seas does he appear in greater numbers.
His weight here runs from $50 to 600
pounds. His flesh sells IN Eastern markets
at from fifteen to twenty cents per pound.
A score or more of smacks are now en-
gagged in the fishery.
1t is glorious sport. I shipped for a
day on the schooner Mystery, a regular
fishing boat. 1t was 6 A. NJ. when |
boarded her. AS we mounted the swells
of the Atlantic / sat in an armchair and
scanned the little craft with a critical
eye. There was nothing ornamental about
her. She was equipped for business
alone. Four or five red kegs, rugged as
floats, for use after the fish is struck, were
upon end near the cabin. Two rusty
Iances shaped like shoeknives, gave hint
of the coming conflict. They were after
ward used in giving the death blow to
a great fish.
Away off on the tip of the bowsprit
was small pen made of iron bars and
shaped like the lectern of an Episcopal
church. 1t is called pulpit. From
this pulpit the expert hurls brass dart
into the fish below him. The swaying
vessel losses him above the waves, as,
harpoon in hand he awaits the coming of
the monster.
The little schooner was manned by
three persons, including the skipper and
steward. The former was Captain VIM.
F. Hooper, wellknit young man, with
blue eyes and more than ordinary intelli-
gence. A bronzed sea-dog was the
steward. He had short gray hair, a
merry eye and paws like pine knots. The
crew was a sawed off little fellow about
five feet two inches long.
With all sail set we headed for Nan
tucket The steward took the tiller,
while the crew lighted a pipe and climbed
the foremost to act as a lookout. Above
the peak block there was a small plat
form, upon which he took his stand.
After lashing himself to the mast, he
shaded his eyes with his hand and began
to scan the ocean in search of fish.
Meantime the skipper rugged his dart
and glided along the bobstay to the pull
pit. He lashed the haIpoon across
stanchion and returned to the deck. Not
long afterward he swung a little seat
from the rear of the pulpit, and sat
down therein while awaiting call from
the masthead.
We were we'll out to sea, and nearing
the feeding grounds of the sWordfsh.
The sun was hot, but the breeze was cool
and refreshing. Half an hour passed. A
dozen schooners and sloops were within
two miles of us. The little speck over
their bowsprits told US thai they were
upon the same GRAND as ourselves. Sud
denly we saw a red key shooting over
the waves. At times it disappeared like
the float of a rod and reel when a big
fish has been struck. Anon it came to
the surface and fairly sized over the
water. A sloop not far away came about
and picked it up, but she was so distant
when she secured the fish that we could
not see how large it was. Within twenty
minutes I saw the skipper of a sloop on
our left strike fish. He was tall, ath-
letic man, with a long reach. AS he
stood upon the bowsprit silhouetted
against the sky, harpoon aloft, he made a
picture not easily forgotten. He struck
the fish as it was disappearing under the
bow of the sloop.
Another monotonous hour passed. The
steward held on to the tiller, and scanned
the horizon for novelties Montauk
Point doomed up in the south like low
cloud.
''Hold her up" suddenly shouted the
lookout. "There's a big fish on the
weather bow"
The skipper saw the monster, and be-
gan to poise his iron. Fright your
wheel, he roared, land haul her up on
the wind!"
Two great fins began to cut the water
not forty feet away. [ sp-ang upon the
cabin. A mOnstrous fish was numbering
along in heavy swell. He was evi-
IDENTIFY going to cross our bows if we held
our course.
tSteady-hold her hard! :" cried the