a farm-house or other humble dwelling along the river,
the ancient occupation of knitting of fish-nets has
been plied through the long winter evenings, perhaps
every grown member of the household, the mother and
her daughters as well as the father and his sons, lending
a hand. The ordinary gill or drift-net used for
shad fishing in the Hudson is from a half to three-quarters
of a mile long, and thirty feet wide, containing about
fifty or sixty pounds of fine linen twine, and it
is a labor of many months to knit one. Formerly
the fish were taken mainly by immense seines, hauled
by a large number of men; but now all the deeper part
of the river is fished with the long, delicate gill-nets
that drift to and fro with the tide, and are managed
by two men in a boat. The net is of fine linen
thread, and is practically invisible to the shad in
the obscure river current: it hangs suspended
perpendicularly in the water, kept in position by buoys
at the top and by weights at the bottom; the buoys
are attached by cords twelve or fifteen feet long,
which allow the net to sink out of the reach of the
keels of passing vessels. The net is thrown out
on the ebb tide, stretching nearly across the river,
and drifts down and then back on the flood, the fish
being snared behind the gills in their efforts to
pass through the meshes. I envy fishermen their
intimate acquaintance with the river. They know
it by night as well as by day, and learn all its moods
and phases. The net is a delicate instrument that
reveals all the hidden currents and by-ways, as well
as all the sunken snags and wrecks at the bottom.
By day the fisherman notes the shape and position
of his net by means of the line or buoys; by night
he marks the far end of it with a lantern fastened
upon a board or block. The night tides he finds
differ from the day—the flood at night being
much stronger than at other times, as if some pressure
had been removed with the sun, and the freed currents
found less hindrance. The fishermen have terms
and phrases of their own. The wooden tray upon
which the net is coiled, and which sits in the stern
of the boat, is called a ‘cuddy.’
The net is divided into ‘shots.’ If
a passing sloop or schooner catches it with her centre-board
or her anchor, it gives way where two or three shoots
meet, and thus the whole net is not torn. The
top cord or line of the net is called a ‘cimline.’
One fisherman ‘plugs’ another when he
puts out from the shore and casts in ahead of him,
instead of going to the general starting place, and
taking his turn. This always makes bad blood.
The luck of the born fisherman is about as conspicuous
with the gill-net as with the rod and line, some boats
being noted for their great catches the season through.
No doubt the secret is mainly through application to
the business in hand, but that is about all that distinguishes
the successful angler. The shad campaign is one
that requires pluck and endurance; no regular sleep,
no regular meals; wet and cold, heat and wind and