Page:The Pacific Monthly volumes 1-3.djvu/93

 make the drift so as to catch the bar at low slack. The nets are heavily leaded, usually 300 fathoms in length, and deep enough to drag on the bottom. This dragging retards the progress of the drift, but a shallower net would permit the salmon to pass underneath. The meshes are of two general sizes, 9% inches and 11 inches. The former are intended for the average fish, the latter for the large ones.

The nets are put out at right angles to the current, and as far apart as the limited space will permit. Frequently the boats are so numerous that they may be seen drifting not over 150 yards distant from each other.

A good fisherman figures on the position of the nets about him, and lays his own so that he will not be in the rear of any. The flood-tide drift is not considered as good, though it is utilized because it is on the way home.

Fishermen have no regular sleeping time. When two tides a day are worked, only three or four hours are left for sleep.

A ton of fish is not an infrequent result for one boat's work. Sixty or eighty dollars is a fair return for seven or eight hours of toil and exposure. The desire to be "high" boat is responsible for the pernicious habit of "corking," which is to deliberately steal another's legitimate position, thus shutting him out entirely. This is done stealthily at night time, and before day dawns the robber has taken in his net and moved away unobserved.

It is ordinarily safe to lie with a good portion of the net out close to Peacock spit, at slack water. The net is stationary, and in fair weather there is only a heavy swell from the breakers, probably not 300 feet away. Before the first of the flood, the net must be well into the boat. The moment the tide turns the "break" becomes heavier, and a strong current sets in directly over the spit. If the net is caught in the eddy, there is only one of two things to do — cut it loose and save yourself, or stay with it and take the breakers. Many have chosen the latter course and escaped with their lives after a terrible ordeal. The life-saving crews have rescued hundreds who had strength enough left to cling to some part of the boat, but countless others have been swept into eternity. An upturned boat when the morning breaks, or a twisted net cast ashore, tells the story of doom.

During an unexpected storm some ten years ago, it was estimated that over 300 lives were lost in a single night. The suddenness of the gale prevented the fishing fleet from escaping to shelter behind Sand island, the usual refuge of the bar fisherman in wild weather.

There are several things for a fisherman to take into consideration while plying his vocation. He must keep his gear in first-class order, know the exact stages of the tides, observing how they are affected by storms or heavy winds; must be perfectly familiar with the shoals and channels; and must have located each snag in order to avoid it; he must be enough of a weather prophet to ordinarily predict and so escape an approaching storm; know where the best fishing grounds are, and precisely when and in what manner to lay out his net; and understand the handling of a boat in rough weather. These are the necessary qualifications of a successful Columbia river fisherman. A lack in any of these things is likely to result in disaster.

The actual mortality attendant upon this work will probably never be disclosed. It is the policy of the Fishermen's Union to be non-communicative concerning any and all affairs relating to the organization. Whenever a body is recovered and identified, it is conveyed to Astoria and given a plain burial. When drowned fishermen are unidentified, the Union does not bury them. That act is performed in the county where the body is found, and, since there is no provision made for such burial by either state or county, these victims of the treacherous sea are laid to rest in the sands of the shore above the reach of the tide. Unwept and nameless, they sleep in unmarked graves, and the ceaseless moan of the waves is their requiem.