While “Staycationing” with friends in Greenspond we were invited to watch their family’s “Trap Crew” set fishing gear for the schools of ‘Caplin’ that were soon due in Bonavista Bay, Newfoundland & Labrador. This is an especially eventful weekend since much of the community’s livelihood is based on the fishery, and caplin adds a completely different dimension to the fisherman’s “stake” when they race to capture their share before the bay’s TAC (Total Allowable Catch) is filled. It only took eleven hours for the crowd in Conception Bay to reach their quota this year – so the pressure was pretty intense.
“… staycationing in Greenspond…”
We haven’t seen a trap set in Newfoundland since the cod moratorium in 1992 so it was an intriguing display that truly piqued our interest, and throughout the weekend we became more and more engaged as the talk intensified and all conversation focused on the likelihood of success with Monday’s season opener.
“… haven’t seen a trap in years…”
We had lots of questions, and with great patience the locals explained that every effort was made to ensure the gear was properly set on the most productive grounds (berths). They checked and rechecked their moorings, leaders, trap doors and floors. They discussed their chances, and why they favoured fixed and passive fishing over an active seiner. They explained all the intricacies of their efforts, and together we prayed with a wanton eye to the ocean sky.
“… did not look promising…”
Things did not look promising at the onset, for we never saw so much as a gull when we put to sea on Thursday. But by Friday there were quite a few ‘Gannets’ diving for bait. Saturday brought great flocks of ‘Turres’ and ‘Puffins’ returning to their nests with beaks full of caplin, the cod’s bellies were full, and we spotted a feasting ‘Minke’ whale. On Sunday the place exploded as dozens of Humpbacks cruised the shores – blowing, breaching and frolicking in the smorgasbord of caplin that we hoped to share.
“… flocks of turres…”
Sure enough, on Monday morning the trap’s corner floats were nearly submerged by the weight of the nets and the sheer volume of fish it ensnared. We rushed to the cliffside to get closer to the action, observe the great haul, and partake in the celebration that would surely follow.
As the boats weighed in, we saw lots of activity – but little in the way of fish, with nothing coming over the gunnels. When questioned, a skipper shook his head and stated simply;
“She looks dry to me!”
“Dry?”, we asked with obvious dismay, for a “landlubber” normally associates this with an empty well, and their nets appeared to be full.
“… looks dry to me…”
When questioned on the discrepancy he simply shrugged and dismissed our question with a reminder of days gone by;
“That’s what the old fellows would say!”
“Well my friend, it looks like we’re the “old” skippers now, so we’d best come up with some sort of explanation for the kids!”
He looked with some skepticism – but responded nearly as quickly;
“That’s it boy – suppose its so full of fish there’s no room for any water. Dry, eh boy! And if there’s no fish, we’ll go with your explanation and hope those young ones are still wet behind the ears!”
Exciting read, Thanks!