MEMORIES OF SEA-FISHING.
The Salt of My Life. By F. G. Aflalo, F.Z.S. (Sir Isaac Pitman and Sons. 7s. 6d. net.)—Since the reader would be un- likely, did he not know Mr. Aflalo's tastes, to discover the subject of this book from the title, we had better say at once that it is the sport of sea-fishing. Mr. Aflalo is ready to admit that "tastes differ," as the little girl retorted when reproved for eating a wasp alive. For our own part, we do not place sea-fishing high among sports ; but we have none the less read Mr. Aflalo's recollections, which he has put together from his old angling diaries, with a good deal of pleasure. The critical reader may be shocked by such phrases as "very amused" or "the breeze had come to stay," which a literary man of Mr. Aflalo's standing might bo expected to avoid. Of course, he dwells chiefly on the pleasant side of sea-fishing in fine weather, on sunny seas, when fish are hauled up quickly enough to make the time pass merrily. But be describes also some failures, and in particular a special expedition made last April to Madeira to catch tunny with a rod and line. The tunny is the same thing as the famous tuna of the American big-game fisherman. The fish had moved from Funchal. Although the anglers followed them to another island, nothing was caught, and the expedition, though very pleasant, was a failure as far as its main object went. Mr. Aflalo was the first secretary of the British Sea Anglers' Society, which has done so much to establish sea-fishing as a recognised sport during the last few years. There cannot be many members of that Society who have had more varied experience than he. Beginning at Lowestoft, where in 1880 ho began catching smelts from the quays with a Japanese rod, he takes the reader along the South Coast of England ; thence to Tirarnemande, on the Baltic, and Leghorn, on another tideless sea ; thence after pollack and conger at Mevagissey, a perfect place for the sea-angler. An interval follows, and he was in Australia catching schnapper, black bream (with a filthy ground- bait known as "barley "), and nannygai, morwong, traglin, or other strange fishes. In another chapter he describes his efforts to pursue his favourite sport with the help of Moors at Tangier and Mogador, and of Basques at Biarritz. After this, mullet- fishing under the pier at Margate seems a Cockney amuse- ment, though the sport was good. Indeed, the grey mullet, the pollack, and the bass are far and away the most sporting fish which the angler in English seas will come across. Whiting, mackerel, and codling may be better to eat, but that is a detail. Mr. Alialo is an enthusiast of the right sort, who loses no opportunity, wherever he may find himself on the sea coast, to gain knowledge and try new forms of sea-fishing. We recommend his book ; for the experience of others is valuable to all anglers, and his experience is unique. Some sea-fishing demands no skill, some demands a good deal. As fishing goes, it is not expensive, even' when one hires boats. But to our mind, in spite of all the delightful scenes and memories which Mr. Aflalo's recollections picture to us, sea-fishing is a dirty sport. As a rule the baits are dirty, the tackle gets dirty, and a successful day means an angler wet and dirty, with a boat smeared with blood and scales. But tastes differ, as we said before ; and sea-angling has no more competent champion than the writer of this book.
Previous page
