Big Game Fishing - Shark Fishing , livre ebook

Read Books Ltd. - H. R. Francis

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14 pages

English

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This vintage book contains a fascinating and insightful guide to big game sea fishing, being a collection of historical notes and authentic anecdotes pertaining to the hunting and catching of sharks. Written in clear, plain language and full of interesting and exciting shark fishing stories, this book is highly recommended for those with an interest in sea or shark fishing, and it is not to be missed by the discerning collector. Many antiquarian books such as this are becoming increasingly rare and expensive, and it is with this in mind that we are republishing this volume now in an affordable, modern, high-quality edition. It comes complete with a specially commissioned new introduction to sea fishing.

Sujets

Sport

Autour du sport

Histoire du sport

Autres sports

Sports de plein air

Sports

Fishing

Recreation

Informations

Publié par	Read Books Ltd.
Date de parution	12 octobre 2011
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781447490364
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0350€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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BIG GAME FISHING
SHARK FISHING
BY
H. R. FRANCIS
Contents
SHARK FISHING
SHARK FISHING
BY H. R. FRANCIS
I T has often struck me as singular, nay, almost unaccountable, that our adventurous countrymen, to whom we owe so many stirring narratives of wild sport by sea and land, and who are ready in its pursuit to go anywhere and do anything, should have told us so little of battles with the shark. True, we have had some interesting notices of that hugest of the race, the tiger-shark of Ceylon, whom you harpoon instead of hooking, and expect to tow your boat about at best pace for an indefinite time. Occasionally, too, there comes a tame newspaper account of an overgrown basking-shark, too lazy to fish for himself, who has blundered into some poor fisherman s nets and pays for his helplessness by being made a sea-side exhibition. I remember, as a child, creeping at Brighton into such a wretch s maw, comfortably lined with green baize. Those who have made ocean voyages have, of course, been introduced to the salt-sea shark, whose hankering after rancid pork causes a welcome excitement to break the monotony of a long voyage. But to none of these can I seriously incline. In fact, an unexpected rencontre with a big shark, even when attended with no danger, is generally the reverse of pleasant.
You are contemplating the glassy, cool, translucent wave, which promises you a delicious bath in some silver-sanded bay, when suddenly you become aware of something like a flat black stick erect above the surface and moving slowly about. A shark s back-fin, by all that s uncanny! Or your boat is anchored-as mine has often been-off some point where the tide runs briskly, and snapper and king-fish are strong on the feed. You are fast in a good fish and pulling against him till the line almost cuts your fingers, when there comes the glimpse of a grey side upturned, a quiet boil in the waves, and you nearly fall backwards as you haul in, hand over hand, the head of what you had fondly regarded as your own captive, the body being in a shark s maw. Some friends of my own, who had hit on a good pitch for snapper, actually had seventeen fine fish successively carried off in this summary fashion, leaving their heads behind. This, however, was in Port Jackson, the culprit being the big shark of that busy water, whom long experience had made as wary as an old trout of Test or Itchen. I do not think that one of my voracious enemies at Botany Bay would have shown the same caution. He would have taken hook and all at the second or third offer. Yet this, perhaps, would hardly have pleased me better. If your line is a strong one, as it ought to be-my own were always of picked hemp, laid and twisted by a cunning hand-you will as often as not hook the shark who takes your bait, or your fish, in such a way that he shall be unable either to break it, or to bite through the three strands of brass wire with which, at least, your hook should be armed.

A S HARK S B ACK-FIN, BY ALL THAT S UNCANNY !
In this case, as Scott sings, a weary lot is thine.
Ten to one, Johnny, as the Botany boatmen call him, will not leave his happy hunting-grounds in the neighbourhood of your boat, and will simply cruise about within a few yards, keeping a continued strain on your arms and tackle, but otherwise not appearing to recognise your existence. I have had one of the largest size maintaining this wearisome pressure for a full hour, till I actually rejoiced when my hook-not a shark-hook proper, but strong enough for snapper or even king-fish-at length gave way. Oddly enough, this fish gave me no more trouble, and I had a rare afternoon s sport in the undertow beneath the rocks amongst snapper, nannyghai, rock-cod, and sundry other fish of wondrous shapes and colours, whose very names I have now forgotten. Perhaps my enemy had not wholly escaped fatigue. But I had no joy of this and similar chance encounters. The shark fishing which I really enjoyed-the tiger-hunt, as it were, of the sea-was systematically pursued, always with a fair measure of success, and occasionally with grand results after an exciting campaign.