ice has given him, he can
easily descry the telltale dorsal fins at a distance of two or three
miles. When a fish has once been sighted, the watch "sings out," and the
vessel is steered directly toward it. The skipper takes his place in the
"pulpit" holding the pole in both hands by the small end, and directing
the man at the wheel by voice and gesture how to steer. There is no
difficulty in approaching the fish with a large vessel, although, as has
already been remarked, they will not suffer a small boat to come near
them. The vessel plows and swashes through the water, plunging its
bowsprit into the waves without exciting their fears. Noises frighten
them and drive them down. Although there would be no difficulty in
bringing the end of a bowsprit directly over the fish, a skilful
harpooner never waits for this. When the fish is from six to ten feet in
front of the vessel it is struck. The harpoon is never thrown, the pole
being too long. The strong arm of the harpooner punches the dart into
the back of the fish, right at the side of the high dorsal fin, and the
pole is withdrawn and fastened again to its place. When the dart has
been fastened to the fish the line is allowed to run out as far as the
fish will carry it, and is then passed in a small boat, which is towing
at the stern. Two men jump into this, and pull in upon the line until
the fish is brought in alongside; it is then killed with a whale-lance
or a whale-spade, which is stuck into the gills.
The fish having been killed, it is lifted upon the deck by a purchase
tackle of two double blocks rigged in the shrouds.
The pursuit of the swordfish is much more exciting than ordinary
fishing, for it resembles the hunting of large animals upon the land and
partakes more of the nature of the chase. There is no slow and careful
baiting and patient waiting, and no disappointment caused by the
accidental capture of worthless "bait-stealers." The game is seen and
followed, and outwitted by wary tactics, and killed by strength of arm
and skill. The swordfish is a powerful antagonist sometimes, and sends
his pursuers' vessel into harbor leaking, and almost sinking, from
injuries he has inflicted. I have known a vessel to be struck by wounded
swordfish as many as twenty times in a season. There is even the spice
of personal danger to savor the chase, for the men are occasionally
wounded by the infuriated fish. One of Captain Ashby's crew was severely
wounded by a swordf
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