While loitering in these smooth waters, waiting for the laggard wind, up came a shoal of dolphin, ready as at all times to attach themselves for awhile to the ship.Nothing is more singular than the manner in which deep-sea fish will accompany a vessel that is not going too fast--sometimes for days at a time.Most convenient too, and providing hungry Jack with many a fresh mess he would otherwise have missed.Of all these friendly fish, none is better known than the "dolphin," as from long usage sailors persist in calling them, and will doubtless do so until the end of the chapter.For the true dolphin (DELPHINIDAE) is not a fish at all, but a mammal a warm-blooded creature that suckles its young, and in its most familiar form is known to most people as the porpoise.The sailor's "dolphin," on the other hand, is a veritable fish, with vertical tail fin instead of the horizontal one which distinguishes all the whale family, scales and gills.
It is well known to literature, under its sea-name, for its marvellous brilliancy of colour, and there are few objects more dazzling than a dolphin leaping out of a calm sea into the sunshine.The beauty of a dying dolphin, however, though sanctioned by many generations of writers, is a delusion, all the glory of the fish departing as soon as he is withdrawn from his native element.
But this habit of digression grows upon one, and I must do my best to check it, or I shall never get through my task.
To resume then: when this school of dolphin (I can't for the life of me call them CORIPHAENA HIPPURIS) came alongside, a rush was made for the "granes"--a sort of five-pronged trident, if I may be allowed a baby bull.It was universally agreed among the fishermen that trying a hook and line was only waste of time and provocative of profanity! since every sailor knows that all the deep-water big fish require a living or apparently living bait.
The fish, however, sheered off, and would not be tempted within reach of that deadly fork by any lure.Then did I cover myself with glory.For he who can fish cleverly and luckily may be sure of fairly good times in a whaler, although he may be no great things at any other work.I had a line of my own, and begging one of the small fish that had been hauled up in the Gulf weed, I1
long hard pull, and my heart beat fast as I felt the thrill along the line that fishermen love.None of your high art here, but haul in hand over hand, the line being strong enough to land a 250 pound fish.Up he came, the beauty, all silver and scarlet and blue, five feet long if an inch, and weighing 35 pounds.
Well, such a lot of astonished men I never saw.They could hardly believe their eyes.That such a daring innovation should be successful was hardly to be believed, even with the vigorous evidence before them.Even grim Captain Slocum came to look and turned upon me as I thought a less lowering brow than usual, while Mr.Count, the mate, fairly chuckled again at the thought of how the little Britisher had wiped the eyes of these veteran fishermen.The captive was cut open, and two recent flying-fish found in his maw, which were utilized for new bait, with the result that there was a cheerful noise of hissing and spluttering in the galley soon after, and a mess of fish for all hands.
Shortly afterwards a fresh breeze sprang up, which proved to be the beginning of the N.E.trades, and fairly guaranteed us against any very bad weather for some time to come.
Somehow or other it had leaked out that we were to cruise the Cape Verd Islands for a spell before working south, and the knowledge seemed to have quite an enlivening effect upon our Portuguese shipmates.
