Two hundred barrels the skipper had said, but long before we were all
pursed up we knew that five hundred barrels would never hold the fish
in that seine. The size of that school filled us with joy and yet it
was the very size of it that caused us our trouble. It was too big for
the seine, and when they began to settle down and take the twine with
them the trouble began for us. No bit of twine ever made to be handled
from a seine-boat was big enough to hold that school of fish when they
began to go down.
The skipper was awake to it early and signalled for the vessel to come
alongside. So the Johnnie stood over to us, and Hurd, pushing the
spare dory over with Moore's help, came jumping with it to the side of
the seine where I was alone in the first dory. He hadn't even stopped
to get into his oilskins, he was in such a hurry. By the skipper's
orders I had made fast some of the corks to the thwarts in the dory
and Billie took some into the spare dory. The whole length of the
seine-boat they were making fast the seine too. In that way the
skipper hoped to buoy up the fish and hold them until we could lighten
the seine up by bailing some of the fish onto the deck of the vessel.
But it was of no use. There must have been a thousand barrels of them,
and dories and seine-boat began to go under. It was over the rail of
my dory and spare dory both, and both Billie and myself to our waists,
when the skipper sung out for us to jump and save ourselves. We hung
on a little longer, but it got to be too much for us and overboard we
went. We were not in danger then. It is true that the sea was making
and we were weighted down with oilskins and rubber boots, but we had
for support the corks that had not yet gone under. And along the corks
we hauled ourselves toward the seine-boat. I was praying that the
sharks that sometimes follow up mackerel would not bother us. It is
probable that they would not even if there were any around, as
mackerel are better eating. And such a fuss as we made hauling
ourselves through the water! We'd have scared away a whole school of
sharks. Before we could get to the seine-boat that, too, was under.
"Jump!" called the skipper, and "Jump everybody!" called Clancy, and
themselves both hanging on to a last handful of twine. The men in the
seine-boat jumped and struck out for the vessel, which was now quite
close, with the cook, the only man left aboard, throwing over
keelers, draw-buckets, the main sheet--anything within his reach that
was loose and would support a man.
The skipper and Clancy hung on to the last. "Jump you, Tommie!" called
the skipper. "Not me till you go," answered Clancy. They couldn't do a
bit of good, but they hung on, each grabbing handfuls of twine in a
last effort to hold up the seine. The seine-boat went under--and they
up to their necks--and then it turned over and in toward the seine.
Some of us hollered--we were afraid that it was all up with both of
them--that they would be thrown toward the inside and tangled up in
the seine. But both of them bobbed up, the skipper saying nothing, but
Clancy sputtering like a crazy man. The dories coming loose gave a few
of us a chance to climb up on the bottom of them, and when the
seine-boat came bobbing up most of the others climbed up on the bottom
of that. And there was some swearing done then, you may be sure! The
gang would have been all right then, waiting to be picked up by the
cook from the vessel, which was then pretty handy; but the seine-boat
started to go under again and then came the slap of a little sea, and
overboard went seven or eight of us. Clancy was one of those thrown
into the water. We all remembered it afterwards because he called out
for Andie Howe.
"Where's Andie?"
"Here," said Andie.
"Where?"
"Hanging onto the bow of the seine-boat."
"Well, hang on a while longer," said Clancy and struck out for the
vessel, and made it too, oilskins, big boots and all. He threw two or
three lines out at once--one especially to Thad Simpson, the other man
of the crew besides Andie Howe who it was known couldn't swim. So
Clancy hauled him in. The third man he hauled in was Billie Hurd.
"Good Lord, Tommie," said Billie, "you hove a line over my head to
Andie Howe."
"You pop-eyed Spanish mackerel!" roared Clancy at him, "you ought to
know by this time that Andie can't swim."
"I know, but he was all oiled up, and look at me----"
"Go to hell," said Clancy.
We all got aboard after a while, but our fine new seine was gone, and
the big school of fish too. After a hard grapple we got the dories and
a little later the seine-boat, and after a lot more work we got them
right side up. The dories we pulled the plugs out of to let them drain
and then took them on deck, but the seine-boat we had to pump out. By
then it was pretty well on in the night and I remember how the moon
rose just as we had it fairly well dried out and dropped astern--rose
as big as a barrel-head and threw a yellow light over it, and then
went out of sight, for a breeze was on us.
And "Oh, Lord! that thousand-barrel school!" groaned everybody.