_ got summut under their feet--somewhere they can get in
under, out the way o'it. They _can_ make themselves comfor'able, an
ride out a storm. But if it comes on to blow when we'm to sea in our
little open craft, we got to hard up an' get home along--if us can.
For the likes o' us, 'tis touch an' go wi' the sea!"
Tony knows. At places like Seacombe every boat, returning from sea,
must run ashore and be hauled up the beach and even, in rough weather,
over the sea-wall. The herring and mackerel drifters, which may venture
twenty miles into the open sea, cannot be more than twenty-five feet in
length else they would prove unwieldy ashore. To avoid their heeling
over and filling in the surf, they must be built shallow, with next to
no keel. They have therefore but small hold on the water; they do not
sail close to the wind, and beating home against it is a long wearisome
job. Again, because the gear for night work in small craft must be as
simple as possible, such boats usually carry only a mizzen and a
dipping lug--the latter a large, very picturesque, but unhandy, sail
which has to be lowered or 'dipped' every time the boat tacks. Neither
comfort nor safety is provided by the three feet or so of decking, the
'cuddy' or 'cutty,' in the bows. To sleep there with one's head
underneath, is to have one's feet outside, and _vice versa_. In
rough broken seas the open beach drifter must be handled skilfully
indeed, if she is not to fill and sink.
I have watched one of them running home in a storm. The wind was
blowing a gale; the sea running high and broken. One error in steering,
one grip of the great white sea-horses, meant inevitable wreck. Every
moment or two the coastguard, who was near me with a telescope to his
eye, exclaimed, "She's down!" But no. She dodged the combers like a
hare before greyhounds, now steering east, now west, on the whole
towards home. It was with half her rudder gone that she ran ashore
after a splendid exhibition of skill and nerve, many times more
exciting than the manoeuvres of a yacht race. Were there not many
such feats of seamanship among fishermen, there would be more widows
and orphans.
[Sidenote: _BOATS SHEERING_]
Those are the craft, those the sort of men--two usually to a boat--that
put to sea an hour or two before sunset, ride at the nets through the
night, and return towards or after dawn. Anything but a moderate breeze
renders drifting impossible. In a calm, the two men are bound
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