Toilers of the Deep
In The Fishing Grounds Of West Cape

By … Rosaline Redwood

In a small green-walled bay on the West Coast, known to fishermen as Northport anchorage, lies the headquarters of one of the richest fishing grounds in New Zealand waters. Here, with the glorious green of the West Coast Sounds in the background and the wide rolling ocean in front, a small community of hardy seamen spend the fishing season, shut away from the rest of the world for months on end.

The centre of the fishing settlement is the Stella, a vessel of about 350 tons, whose ocean-going days are a thing of the past. Once she traded between Australia and New Zealand, doing service also as a coastal steamer, but now she lies securely moored beneath the bush-clad hills of Northport Bay, her barnacled sides and rusty covering telling their own story. Her freezer, which has accommodation for 500 cases of fish, and which is worked by means of a diesel engine, is the store-house for the fish brought in at the end of the day by the small fleet of fishing boats. A caretaker and his wife—the sole woman of the community, live in comfortable quarters on the Stella throughout the season. They are responsible for the packing and final cleaning of the fish, which have been previously roughly cleaned by the fishermen. After scrubbing with brushes the fish are packed into cases, allowed to drain for a time, and finally placed in the freezer.

All stores and provisions are brought by the freight ship to the Stella, later to be transhipped to the launches of the fishermen. Periodically, when the weather permits, the frozen fish is carried by this same ten-ton freighter back round the coast to the Port of Bluff, where it is readily absorbed for local consumption and for export. The carrying capacity of the freighter is 300 cases, so that if the weather becomes sufficiently rough to hold up transport for several weeks—as it sometimes does—difficulties present themselves. Stores sometimes run out, and the men are forced to bake their own bread. Deer, which abound in plenty in these parts, are frequently shot and added to the larder. Also the paua shell-fish which lives on the rocks in and about the sounds, is considered a delicacy when cooked properly, while mussels which are gathered at full moon, (so the fishermen tell us) are fattest and best for consumption. On one occasion the mussels were taken from the sides of the Stella, but they had absorbed some poison from their contact with the iron, as the consumers later found to their internal discomfort.

Only in reasonably fine weather may he small fishing craft brave the turbulent waters that abound in this locality. Twelve working days a month is a fair average for a fisherman, but that is sufficient to bring in a substantial cheque. Here, where the fish are both large and plentiful, a skilful fisherman may pull in from 300 to 400 lbs. of, fish per day. Considering the wholesale price ranges round 26/per cwt, one may get a fair idea of the income derived from a good day's toil. However, one must not overlook the fact that rough weather sometimes results in many days of idleness and loss. Strangely enough frosty weather is ideal fishing weather, the bait being more readily snapped up by the finned vertebrate of the deep.

When the first purple streaks of daylight herald the morning, the whitesailed fishing boats put out to sea, and when about two miles off-shore, the engines are cut off, and the boats allowed to drift.

A group of West Cape “toilers.”

The feeding grounds of the fish are located by means of landmarks, these being well-known to those who toil daily in these regions. The depth of West Cape fishing grounds ranges from 60 to 90 fathoms, and as the lines must reach the bed of the sea, as well as allow for slackening as the vessel drifts, the lines are of considerable length. The sinker is fixed at the end, and attached to this are the trailer hooks on twisted string cords, one a few inches longer than the other. Were they both of identical length there would be less chance of securing two fish at once. Instead of the line being slipped through the eye of the hook as one would imagine, a short length of plaited string is woven securely below the eye of the hook, and deftly knotted to the line. The job of preparing lines and hooks is an art in itself, and accomplished so quickly and skilfully by the practised hand, that the casual onlooker is left in bewilderment as to how it is actually done. Each line has four or so hooks attached–more than this number being considered unwise as an overload of fish may result and may possibly break the line.

Each man manoeuvres two lines, and page 35 while one is being pulled up, the other is slipping back into the depths. Blue cod, trumpeter and hapuka (groper), outnumber other kinds of fish here. The blue cod, being easily damaged or bruised, have to be handled with care, but not so the groper, which are promptly knocked as they come over the side of the boat, in order to quieten their wild lashings on the deck. With a dexterous flick of the hand, the fisherman relieves the line of the bottom fish —providing the hook has caught in the top jaw. The bottom-jaw catches require to have the hooks removed by hand. Then the ragged baits are removed (some fishermen use their teeth as it is the quickest method for this purpose) and fresh bits of groper replace the damaged bait.

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Sometimes the lines tangle, and sometimes as many as a dozen sinkers a day are lost through catching on rocks and coral on the ocean's floor. Bits of delicate red coral with fern-shaped leaves and tiny boughs attached are brought up—a fragment of the loveliness that lies unseen beneath those sixty fathoms of water.

Sharks—the most destructive and hated enemy of the fishermen abound in large numbers around the West Cape fishing grounds. It is not an uncommon occurrence for as many as three 3ft. to 4ft. sharks to be caught on a line at once. Two is quite common. The moment a shark is hooked, a shout goes up and other lines on the fishing boat are drawn hurriedly in. One shark —not to mention two or more can do untold damage to lines in a few minutes, as they churn the water and turn in circles, savagely lashing about. The hide of a shark can cut through a line in a short time if not handled dexterously and promptly. A knife thrust through the nose of the shark is the quickest and most effective method of ending its struggles. All sea-toilers rejoice at the death of a shark—one less of the savage and destructive creatures to chase and molest the fish—the fishermen's livelihood!

Northport Bay where snow sometimes cloaks the trees to the water's edge. Boats put out of the fishing grounds from this bay.

Then there are fish which present other difficulties—fish which have to be handled with care because one scratch from their fins means poison to the recipient.

In the heavy swell with the boat pitching and rolling, with spray sometimes drenching the seamen, the job is hardly a comfortable one, but no matter what crazy angle the ship takes on, the men seem to be able to retain their balance. With the constant pulling up of heavy lines on which three and four fish may be caught at once, their hands grow hard and calloused.

At the end of the day comes the cleaning process. In the case of the groper a huge, sharp knife cuts beneath the gills, whips along the front, and with another lightning stroke the cleaning process is completed—a matter of a few moments' work.

Back in the shelter of Northport anchorage again, the fish are loaded on to the Stella, decks are scrubbed, and the small community go below to prepare the evening meal.

A rough life maybe, and a lonely one. But surrounded by the grandeur of nature, where long arms of water are framed with the great forest giants, beneath the shade of which ferns and the lovely nikau palms grow in rich green profusion, where lilies decorate the mountain sides—these men are content! Toilers of the deep—thrilling in, and loving, the work of reaping the ocean's harvest.