Strange Fishing - 08/02/06 01:27 AM
Since we have been talking about fishing for grinnel and gar, I wonder what other kinds of fishing there might be that most of us haven’t seen. I’ll start it off with a true story from 1966.
A man who had a large fishhook embedded in his forearm came into the emergency room where I was working as an intern. As I removed the hook, he told me he was a stevedore who worked on the Napoleon Street Wharf. The dock workers often put chicken necks on such hooks, attached them to a length of clothesline, and tied the bitter end of the line off on a bollard, tossing the neck to float in the river while they unloaded and loaded cargo. They would put a can on top of a piling and run the line over the can, so when a channel cat took the bait, they would hear or see the can fall over. As this man was hauling a large cat up from water level to the pier, the fish fell off, the nylon line popped up like a rubber band, and the hook ended up in his arm. (The energy stored in stretched nylon is very great. It was not uncommon for the large nylon lines holding barge strings together to break and fly back with such force as to seriously injure or kill barge workers, and I suppose it still happens.)
Nowadays, the old wharfs of New Orleans are mostly empty, and most of the cargo is containerized. Dock workers are essentially operating engineers, and I suppose that kind of fishing has pretty much disappeared, too.
Lou
A man who had a large fishhook embedded in his forearm came into the emergency room where I was working as an intern. As I removed the hook, he told me he was a stevedore who worked on the Napoleon Street Wharf. The dock workers often put chicken necks on such hooks, attached them to a length of clothesline, and tied the bitter end of the line off on a bollard, tossing the neck to float in the river while they unloaded and loaded cargo. They would put a can on top of a piling and run the line over the can, so when a channel cat took the bait, they would hear or see the can fall over. As this man was hauling a large cat up from water level to the pier, the fish fell off, the nylon line popped up like a rubber band, and the hook ended up in his arm. (The energy stored in stretched nylon is very great. It was not uncommon for the large nylon lines holding barge strings together to break and fly back with such force as to seriously injure or kill barge workers, and I suppose it still happens.)
Nowadays, the old wharfs of New Orleans are mostly empty, and most of the cargo is containerized. Dock workers are essentially operating engineers, and I suppose that kind of fishing has pretty much disappeared, too.
Lou