his largest dimensions, and has inspired the fishermen and boatmen with
such dread of him that, while they hold the universally feared shark in
supreme contempt, the mere rumour of a “devil-fish” anywhere in their
vicinity will bring every nigger within hail scrambling out of the
water in double-quick time.
Whether rightly or wrongly, I have never been able to ascertain by
personal observation, but undoubtedly the fact is that the barracouta
is credited with an infernal propensity for inflicting a nameless
mutilation upon any human being unfortunate enough to get within reach
of him. He is long and narrow, blue-black above, with a silvery-grey
belly, and swift as an arrow. His lower jaw is considerably longer than
the upper, and both are armed with teeth, almost exactly like those
of a dog. From this configuration of the jaws it is unnecessary for
the barracouta to turn on its back, like the shark, when he comes for
you. Silent, straight, swift, and almost invisible in those dark-blue
waters, the first intimation of his presence is often the fatal snap
of those lethal jaws, which leaves the hapless victim beyond hope of
recovery.
Before quitting this portion of the subject a passing reference may
be permitted to a very disheartening occurrence due to the predatory
habits of these fish. At great cost some public-spirited individuals
had stocked the upper reaches of the pretty river Clutha in Otago,
New Zealand, with salmon-fry from ova imported from England. The
incipient salmon flourished until in the course of natural development
they reached the “parr” stage of their career. Then in an evil hour
they journeyed seawards until they reached the estuary of the river.
A school of barracouta had just previously crossed the bar from the
sea, and in their search for living food happened upon the toothsome
innocents from the secure spawning-beds above. Long did the patient
watchers up-country wait, but never more did one of those youthful
salmon return to them. All the money spent was wasted, and all the high
hopes of a plentiful supply of indigenous salmon were frustrated for
years.
There are, of course, many other marine monstrosities to which with
more or less show of reason the satanic epithet has been applied; but
they are very little known or noticed, except within certain narrow
limits. Probably enough has been said to justify simple savages and
almost equally simple-minded seamen in bestowing upon the creatures of
their dread a name which to them embodies all they are able to conceive
of pitiless cruelty, unquenchable ferocity, and unmatchable cunning.
XX
OF TURTLE
By popular consent the rash act of the daring man who first devoured
an oyster has been greatly extolled, but what meed of praise should be
awarded to that dim and distant discoverer who first essayed to break
into and devour the flesh of the armour-clad tortoise or turtle? All
unarmed as he doubtless must have been, except for spear of chipped
flint or charred stick, the mere entry within the _domus_ of the
reptile, even by way of the leathery neck or flank, must have been no
easy feat.
But, once having tasted such good meat, how rapidly the news must have
been spread by our friend! Here was a banquet indeed, ready to hand,
for the acquisition of which none of the ordinary attributes of the
chase were needed. Speed, courage, endurance, cunning, all could be
dispensed with, while even the most unenlightened “salvage-man” would
hardly need the information that it were wise to avoid the front end of
the sluggish creature, with its terrible jaws of keen-edged shell.
Since those far-off days mankind has been faithful in its love for
the genus _Testudo_, whether terrestrial or marine, wherever edible
members of it could be obtained; but when and why the consumption of
turtle-soup became with us a synonym for the highest luxury in the way
of food, and indissolubly associated with the royal hospitality of the
Lord Mayor, is indeed a question to be answered. One may be permitted
to suppose that, during the reign of some more than usually gifted
_cordon bleu_, the grand discovery was made that the peculiar flesh
of this succulent reptile lent itself most amicably and gelatinously
to the wonderful disguise with which it is invested ere it becomes
the dream of the epicure. The pages of ancient Latin writers abound
with descriptions, not only of strange foods, but stranger modes of
preparing them for the table, the mere recital of which to-day is often
sufficient to effectually banish appetite. Among these early recipes
are many for dealing with the flesh of both land and sea tortoises.
According to their light those ancient cooks excelled in curious ways
of dressing turtle, or rather disguising it, for it must be confessed
that turtle-steak _au naturel_ is not of that exquisite flavour to
appeal to the palate like a plain beefsteak or mutton-chop. Good,
wholesome, and tender as it undoubtedly is, it tastes more like veal
with a nuance of fish than anything else in the best kinds; while many
turtles, from feeding upon cuttle-fish, have a decidedly unpleasant,
musky flavour. Few flesh foods pall quicker upon the palate. In most
West Indian coast towns an abundant meal of turtle can be obtained for
the equivalent of sixpence whenever required, but except by those whose
object is to fill up cheaply and quickly, it is little appreciated.
I was once mate of a barque gathering a cargo of mahogany along the
Mexican coast, and while lying at Tonala the supply of fresh beef ran
short. The skipper bought a fine large turtle for a mere trifle from
some fishermen, and rather chuckled at the prospect of getting two
days’ meat for less than the usual price of one. He gave orders to the
worn-out seaman whom, in common with vessels of that class, we carried
as cook, etc., to apportion the joints. At eight bells a procession
of weary-looking men slouched aft, the foremost one bearing a kid of
something. He came to the break of the poop, and as spokesman inquired
for the captain. That gentleman stepped briskly forward, saying, “Well,
what’s up now?” “What d’ye call _that_, sir?” said the man. “_That_,”
said the skipper, giving just a glance at the queer-looking mess in the
kid; “why yer so-and-so idiot, that’s what the Lord Mayor gives about
a guinea a hounce for. Why, only the haristocracy gets a charnce at
’ome to eat the likes o’ that.” “Oh, very well,” said the man; “p’r’aps
you’ll eat it yourself then, sir, since its _so_ ---- good, and give us
what we signed for. We aint crockeydiles to eat shell-fish, shells an’
all.” With that he planted his little tub, with its strange contents,
down on the poop and stalked forward again, followed by his scowling
shipmates. I am bound to admit that there was little room for wonder
that Jack on this occasion preferred _salt horse_ to boiled turtle.
But this is by the way. Of terrestrial Chelones there is an immense
variety distributed over almost the whole land surface of the globe
where the mean annual temperature does not fall below 60°. The flesh of
these reptiles is, with few exceptions, notably that of the American
Terrapin, very lightly esteemed by civilised peoples, and in some
species highly poisonous. A very strange fact concerning land tortoises
is the presence of the largest members of the family upon such widely
separated and inhospitable spots as Aldabra and Agalegas Islands in
the Indian Ocean, and the Galapagos group in the South Pacific. In
these lonely islets--for they are hardly more--enormous specimens of
these strange reptiles crawl sluggishly about, grazing upon the scanty
herbage, secure from all enemies except man, and apparently gifted with
incredible longevity. As far as natural decay is concerned, they would
certainly appear to be unaffected by the flight of time, although one
need not believe unless he wants to the story of the sailor of one upon
whose shell he saw carved the legend, ‘The Ark--Captain Noah; Ararat,
for orders.’ The Galapagans eat them during scarcity of other food, but
do not hanker after them as regular diet. They do, however, prize the
fat oil which some of these reptiles possess in great abundance, and
whenever they catch one and do not need its flesh, they cut a slit in
the leathery skin between the upper and lower shells near the tail and
take a peep within. If the victim be not fat enough for their purpose
they release him, and he shuffles off apparently quite unaffected by
this rough surgery. Indeed, such is the incredible vitality of these
reptiles that they have been known to live for six months after having
their brains entirely removed, and one existed for twenty-three days
after its head had been cut off.
Redi, the well-known Italian surgeon, who made these apparently useless
experiments, states that, upon opening the body of the last-mentioned
tortoise, on the twenty-third day he saw the triple heart beating, and
the blood entering and leaving it. What he hoped to establish by such
cruel doings is not stated by him.
Varieties of land tortoises are exceedingly numerous, and embrace some
very peculiar forms, notably the _Emysaura serpentina_, which is a kind
of compromise between a lizard and a tortoise, lives in and around
Oriental lakes and rivers, and feeds indiscriminately upon small fish,
reptiles, and birds. The _Chelodina Novæ Hollandiæ_ of Australia, with
its long snake-like neck and wide gaping jaws; the _Chelys matamata_,
loving stagnant pools, and adorned about the head and neck with
sprouting fringes like bunches of rootlets, giving it a most uncanny
appearance; and the _Gymnopus_ of African rivers, which feeds upon
young crocodiles, and whose flesh is nevertheless most delicate and
highly prized, and many others, furnish a most interesting study, but
not strictly germane to our subject, which is turtle--the _Thalassians_
or oceanic tortoises, from which alone our supplies are drawn.
Among marine tortoises or turtles there is vastly less variety than
among their congeners of the land. Sir Richard Owen decided that only
five well-defined species are known to exist at the present day,
although the fossil remains of true turtles show that a much greater
range of these varieties existed in prehistoric times. The principal
difference between tortoise and turtle is the shape of the paws,
which in the land varieties are always armed with claws, and have a
strong likeness to the legs of a lizard. In the turtles these clawed
feet become flippers, almost fins, wonderfully adapted for swimming
purposes, but rendering the turtle when on land more helpless and
clumsy in his locomotion than even a seal.
Turtles are true amphibians, although, owing to the extent and
volume of their arbitrary lungs, and perhaps also to their general
sluggishness of habit, they can and do remain under water for a longer
time than any other amphibian, with the exception, perhaps, of the
crocodile. But, like the saurian just mentioned, it is imperative
that they leave the sea periodically for the purpose of laying their
eggs, which they do in loose sand, leaving them to be hatched by the
heat of the sun. It has been authoritatively stated that when the
young turtle first emerges from the egg his shell is not formed, and
that he is white in colour. Perhaps different species may account for
a discrepancy here; but I can only say, that having, for many hours,
along the shores of islets in the Caribbean Sea and around the Gulf
of Mexico, amused myself by digging up turtles’ and crocodiles’ eggs,
breaking them, and sending the lively occupants afloat, I have never
seen either a white or a shell-less one. Of course the shell was not
of the substance one would expect in a full-grown individual, but it
was hard and perfectly formed, while the tiny creature was wonderfully
swift in its movements. Innumerable enemies await the infant turtle,
extending even to his own kind, and but a small percentage of those
hatched are privileged to arrive at maturity. Nevertheless, such is the
fecundity of these reptiles, that their numbers are exceedingly large,
and even where old-established stations for turtle-catching exist, no
diminution of their numbers is ever seen.
Having reached a weight of about twenty-five pounds, they are
thenceforth safe from all enemies except man, and even he gets but
scant opportunity to molest them save when they visit their favourite
beaches for family purposes.
When a lad of thirteen I had the misfortune to be cast away upon one of
the reef-fringed islets in the Bay of Campêche. The vessel became a
total wreck, and we escaped to the islet, finding it bare of everything
but an immense number of boobies and frigate-birds, the beach being
covered with the eggs of the former, and the rocks plentifully
besprinkled with the eggs of the latter. The first night of our stay I
was taking a lonely stroll along the beach--the whole circuit of the
isle could be made under an hour--when I saw a light cloud of sand
rising from the smooth white plain just ahead of me. At first the idea
of an inrush of the sea occurred to me; but going carefully nearer,
I saw an immense black centre to the misty spot, apparently digging
furiously. Hurrying back to camp, I gave the alarm, and three of the
men accompanied me back. Without any difficulty they managed to secure
the creature, which was an enormous turtle weighing not less than 1800
lb. It was rather a tough job turning her over, but once on her broad
back she was helpless, and was speedily towed to camp. Next morning
at daybreak she was butchered, and more than eight hundred eggs, of
which only thirteen were with shells, were taken from her ovary. The
carapace was so large that it made me a good bath. The meat was all
removed and hung up, only the head and tail being left attached to
the shell. Late that afternoon a young Dane, in some foolish freak or
another, must needs go and introduce two of his fingers into the open
mouth of the apparently dead head. Like the action of an iron-shearing
press the jaws closed, taking off the two fingers as clean as possible.
Then another man essayed to cut off the tail, but as soon as the knife
entered the skin the tail curled up and gripped the blade, and it was
nearly an hour before he could withdraw it. So that their vitality must
be little, if any, inferior to that of the land tortoise.
One of the most favoured spots frequented by turtle is, or used to
be, the desolate island of Ascension in the South Atlantic, a barren
volcanic patch belonging to Britain, and, because used exclusively as
a naval depot, entered upon the books of the Admiralty as one of Her
Majesty’s ships. An enormous number of turtle were annually “turned”
there, and preserved in a small lagoon from shipment to shipment. It
was my pleasant privilege to assist at one of these turnings, and I
bear a very vivid recollection of the game. Crouched low behind an
immense boulder one evening about eight o’clock, we could hear a hollow
reverberating murmur of the mighty surf outside, suggesting sleepily
irresistible force. A dazzling wreath of snowy foam, gleaming like
burnished silver, fringed the quiet stretch of glittering sand, which,
gently sloping upward and landward, was bounded by gloomy bastions of
black lava. Beyond that shining semicircle of glowing white lay the
sombre blue-black bosom of the quiet little bay, now heaving gently as
that of a sleeping child. Hither and thither, threading its mysterious
depths, glided spectrally broad tracks of greenish light, vivid, yet
ever brightening and fading, as if of living flame. Presently there
emerged from the retreating smother of spume a creeping something of
no very definite shape, under the glamour of the molten moonlight, but
making an odd shuffling progress inland, and becoming more recognisable
as it rose. Another, and yet another, and still more arrived as the
shining tracks converged shorewards. At last the dark shapes came near
enough for a novice to know them for turtle. Soon the first-comers
reached their limit, and began the work for which they were here. Each
massive reptile, by an indescribable motion of its fore-flippers,
delved into the yielding grit, throwing the spoil behind it and upward
withal until it was enveloped in a misty halo of shining sand. Then
the whole beach was alive with the toiling Chelones and their male
attendants, who shuffled about, emitting curious noises, but whether of
encouragement or affection this deponent sayeth not.
Divers of them came from far--so far that none who have not witnessed
the swift cleaving of their true element by these ungainly monsters
could believe how the wide sweep of those eager flippers devours the
fleeting leagues. In a short time many of the delving turtles had sunk
below the level of the surrounding sand, while some had ceased their
digging and commenced to deposit their eggs. Suddenly we rushed upon
them, and for some minutes the swarming beach was apparently a scene
of wild confusion. Really, the plan of attack was well ordered; and
when the first scurry was over nearly all the visitors were to be seen
wrong side up, waving their flippers deprecatingly. In less than half
an hour the loneliness was again regnant, the victims having been towed
off through a gap in the rocks to a spacious spoilarium in the lagoon
behind, there to await their transit to the goal of most good things,
London town.
While the capture of turtle upon a sandy shore necessarily admits
of but few variations, the pursuit of these reptiles in their
proper element lends itself to many peculiarities. How often does
the ever-hungry sailor, striving wearily to forget his plentiful
lack of tasty eatables while on the look-out of some calm-bound
“wind-jammer,” get a delightful thrill upon seeing the broad shining
back of a sleeping _Spharga_ calmly floating upon the sunlit surface
of the silent sea! Visions of “a fresh mess for all hands” nerve the
watch to desperate efforts in order to quickly free the gig from its
long-disused trammels. Once afloat, there are several ways of securing
the prize. Roughly, the orthodox method is for one hand to “scull” the
boat with one oar over the stern _à la Chinoise_, while one stationed
in the bow may, when near enough, drive a harpoon through the carapace
of the slumberer. Or one may not. And candour compels the statement
that the percentage of successes is not high. If the performer be not
very expert with the weapon--and very few sailors are--the result is
usually a burst of angry jeers from disappointed shipmates, and a few
eddying swirls on the surface whence the awakened turtle has fled in
amazement.
Another way practised most successfully by the amphibious Kanakas of
Polynesia is to slip noiselessly into the water, and, diving beneath
the turtle, grasp the hind flippers with crossed hands. One swift
and dexterous twist places the prize on his back, in which helpless
position he is kept with ease upon the surface until the canoe arrives
and he is transferred to it. Among the coral reefs of the Friendly
Islands turtle-fishing is a highly favoured form of sport, and when the
reptiles are surprised among the tortuous shallow channels between the
reefs or in the almost land-locked lagoons, they rarely escape. Here
it is usual for the fisherman to spring upon the turtle’s back, and,
clutching the fore edge of the shell with both hands, to hang on until
his prize is exhausted and speedily brought to the surface.[1]
But of all the fashions of securing this much-hunted creature, that
followed by the ingenious fisher-folk of the Chinese littoral bears
away the palm. Most voyagers in tropical seas are acquainted with a
peculiar fish, _E. remora_, known generally by the trivial name of
“sucker.” The distinguishing characteristic of this fish is laziness.
Unwilling to exert itself overmuch in the pursuit of food, it has
developed an arrangement on the back of its head exactly like the
corrugated sole of a tennis shoe, and as artificial in appearance
as if made and fitted by the hand of man. When the sucker finds
itself in the vicinity of any large floating body, such as a ship, a
shark, or a piece of flotsam, whose neighbourhood seems to promise an
abundance of food, it attaches itself firmly thereto by means of this
curious contrivance, which permits it to eat, breathe, and perform all
necessary functions while being carried about without any exertion on
its part. It can attach and detach itself instantaneously, and holds so
firmly that a direct backward pull cannot dislodge it without injury
to the fish. The Chinese, who have successfully trained the cormorant
and the otter to fish for them, have taken the remora in hand with the
happiest results. Several good-sized specimens having been caught,
small iron rings are fitted to their tails, to which are attached long,
slender, but very strong lines. Thus equipped, the fishermen set out,
and when a basking turtle is seen, two or three of the suckers are
slipped overboard. Should they turn and stick to the bottom of the
sampan, they are carefully detached by being pushed forward with the
inevitable bamboo, and started on the search again. At last they attach
themselves to the supine turtle. Then the fishermen haul in the lines,
against which gentle suasion the hapless Chelone struggles in vain.
Once on board the lugger, the useful remora is detached, and is at once
ready for use again.
[1] But the turtle can by no means be kept on the surface until
it _is_ exhausted. The first act of a hunted turtle is to
seek the depths.
The same mode of catching turtle is followed by the fishermen of the
East African coast, from Mozambique northward. The coast of Africa has
long been famous for its turtle, and Pliny tells of the Chelonophagi
of the Red Sea, a race of turtle-eaters, who were able to obtain these
creatures of so gigantic a size that they could utilise the carapaces
for roofs to their dwellings and boats for their feeble voyages. Strabo
also alludes to these people; but without accusing either of these
venerable authorities of exaggeration, it is pretty certain that no
such enormous specimens of Chelonia are ever met with in these days.
Tortoise-shell is well known to be furnished by the turtle, the best
by the Hawk’s Bill variety, which supplies the worst flesh, being
exceedingly musky (_Chelone imbricata_). The green turtle (_Chelonée
franche_) is most valuable for food, and attains, with another
well-marked variety (_Spharga Coriacea_), the largest size of all
turtles known. This latter has been sometimes taken on the coast of
Britain, several of large size (700 to 800 lb. weight) having been
recorded as caught in our seas.
OTHER SKETCHES
XXI
‘HOVELLING’[2]
What particular law of etymology has been evoked to produce the queer
word standing at the head of this paper I am unable to imagine. Like
Topsy, I “’spects it growed,” but my own private opinion is that it is
the Kentish coast way of pronouncing the word “hovering,” since the
hovellers are certainly more often occupied in hovering than in doing
anything more satisfactory to themselves.
However strange the word may sound in a landsman’s ears, it is one of
the most familiar to British seamen, especially among our coasters,
although the particular form of bread-winning that it is used to
designate is practically confined to the Kent and Sussex shores of the
English Channel, having its headquarters at Deal. Briefly, a “hoveller”
is a boatman who follows none of the steady orthodox lines of
boatmanship, such as fishing, plying for passengers, etc., but hovers
around the Channel, a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles, a pilot, a
wrecker, or if a ghost of a chance presents itself, a smuggler.
[2] Whilst this reprint was in the press the writer received
an ingenious explanation of the word from Mr. Charles
Fleet, an old resident on the Sussex coast. He derives it
from “Hoviler,” a sort of mounted militia raised during
the Commonwealth, and so named from the “hovils” (leathern
jackets) they wore.