Fishermen Have a Narrow Escape

New York, 1895

A party of six eel spearers narrowly escaped drowning in Jamaica Bay on Monday. The men, three of whom were Edward Ganz, Henry Wimpler and James Hadin, of Canarsie, were at work off Sands' Point cutting holes through the ice. They had cut a circle of holes around them, thus weakening the ice on which they stood.

Without warning the ice cracked and gave way, precipitating the six men into the water. Other eel spearers ran to their aid and, with the help of their long spearing-poles, succeeded in pulling them out.

—The Long Island Farmer, Jamaica, NY, Feb. 15, 1895, p. 1.

Wave Tosses Fisherman Out of Dory in Storm

1915

Victim of Accident Drowns Out From Boston

BOSTON, Mass., Dec. 16 — Just as the fishing schooner Elk, Capt. Patrick Murphy, arrived at the Fish Pier, South Boston, in the gray of dawn the other morning, with her colors at half-mast, Philip Kusa, aged 24, one of two men lost from the schooner a fortnight ago during a gale on Browns' Bank, came in aboard the Yarmouth steamer, reporting that his dorymate, Gordon Goodwin, aged 22, of East Publico, Mass., had been washed from his dory and drowned.

The drowned man was a brother of Griffin Goodwin of the schooner Flavilla.

The Elk had been fishing on Browns' for several days. One morning recently, the dorymen, fishing two in a boat, were out hauling trawls. At sundown, Kusa, making his first fishing trip, and Goodwin failed to report aboard.

There was a high wind blowing and a terrific sea. Captain Murphy sailed about searching for the two men, but without success.

Meanwhile the two dorymen were battling with a terrible sea. Their little boat was tossed about like an eggshell. Finally a vicious wave washed Goodwin clean out of the boat, while Kusa clung on for dear life.

Unable to do anything to save his companion young Kusa clung to his boat and watched his companion sink. All that night he was tossed about by the waters and all next day. About 5 o'clock that night, weak from lack of food and drink and unnerved by the fearful experience of seeing Goodwin drown, Kusa was picked up by the schooner Pauline.

The schooner landed him at Shelbourne and he secured passage to this port.

The Trout in His Lair

1907

He Is an Alert and Elusive Unpictured Beauty

Whoever has had the privilege of lying at full length on some mossy overhanging bank while watching a large trout in his lair perceives that a true figure has yet to be drawn of him.

Even photography can give no hint of the wavy circles from the spotted dorsal fin undulating loosely athwart the broad back, of the perpetual fanning of the pectoral fins, of the rapacious gills opening and closing, the half open round mouth, the luminous brown eye, the ceaseless slow vibration of the powerful tail, nor can pen adequately describe the startling suddenness of the dart at some idle fly touching the surface, the quick return to the old position and the resumption of the poise with head elevated at a slight angle, pectorals all tremulous and floating watery circles emanating from every slight motion of the body.

It is also worth while to watch a trout rush four feet up a perpendicular fall of water, pause, tremble violently all over and in a moment throw himself clear of the stream and fall into the basin above at an elevation of about three feet more. — Arthur P. Silver in Outing Magazine.

An Odd Superstition — The Name of "Graham" a Terror

1907

British Fishermen Balk at the Name of Graham

One of the most curious of British fishermen's superstitions, the one which perhaps to this day has the strongest hold upon them, is that connected with the name of Graham.

No fisherman will go to sea if he has heard this name mentioned, nor will he do any manner of work upon that day. He will refuse to sail in a boat with any one bearing the name, and a house painter from Newcastle called Graham, who had been sent to do some work in one of the large houses, found his life made so unbearable by the villagers that he incontinently returned to the town, leaving his work uncompleted.

The women who bait the lines in the winter will unbait every hook and rebait the whole length — the labor of hours — if they hear it mentioned. A local tradesman bearing this unfortunate patronymic is never referred to save as "Puff;" another, an innkeeper, is known as "Lucky Bits." No rational explanation is to be found.

One of the most intelligent fishermen being questioned on the subject, he laughed the idea to scorn. Why, his daughter was married to a Graham. But, he added, a strange thing happened, two years ago when he was off at the herring fishing and had not been home for some weeks. Having received a letter at Shields to say that his son-in-law was ill, he hailed a passing boat which had come from the north, asking if they had heard how Jack Graham was. "And, wad ye beleev't, ne soonor had aa syed the words than theor wes a crash, and the mast went ower the side!" None of the crew spoke to him for the rest of the day. — New York Post.