Category Archives: commercial fishing, boat, pamilco sound, gillnetting

The Catch

With nearly all the net gathered back in the skiff, the only part remaining in the water is the bunt, or the bagging end of the net. This is where the catch is contained.

The Gray boys tighten up the bunt, as the oils in the fish cause a slick on the water. Left to right is Belton, Collins, Belton Jr. and Charles Farrow.

Then the bailing begins.

Using his dip net, Collins Gray harvests the catch.

Belton Gray bails fish into the bow of the boat.

Now the fish are 2 feet deep in the bottom of the boat. They continue scooping fish. The high point of the day, I am amazed at what I see. It is one of the most incredible things I have ever experienced.

Knee deep in croakers, Collins radios Dale Midgett at the fish house in Rodanthe that they’ll be coming in with about 100 boxes. At 100 pounds a box, that’s 10,000 pounds of fish.

Belton coils the anchor line for the ride back to the creek.

At the fish house, the Gray boys pack out, with Belton Jr. working the boat.

Larry and Dale work at culling the catch.

In his Wanchese bedroom slippers and barefoot, Larry Midgett cleans up the last of them.

Those Gray boys really knew how to catch fish.






Longhauling

Almost like it was yesterday, I can still see the white longhaul boats on the water of Pamlico Sound. The Pamlico is one of the largest estuaries in the United States, and the longhaulers look for massive schools of fish that inhabit those waters near Rodanthe every Summer.

Nowadays this method of fishing is not as prevalent as it once was, but in 1980, I went out with a crew from Avon. The owners of that haul seine fishing rig were brothers, Collins and Belton Gray. Known as “the Gray boys”, they were dedicated, hard workers. You would not meet finer people anywhere. And they knew how to catch fish.

Dawn shines on Pamlico Sound as the Gray boys look for fish. Belton Gray operates the run boat as Charles Farrow sits in the net skiff.

Charles tends the net, as it begins to go overboard into the water.

Collins Gray steers the run boat using a bridle adjustment tied to the end of the net, as Belton Gray Jr. assists. Meanwhile, more net goes out as the other run boat pulls the net skiff farther away.

With a few thousand yards of net out, Collins watches as it is pulled in a big “U” shape along the shallow bottom. The “U” is then closed and tightened, encircling the fish.

Collins signals that it’s getting time to close the net, begin hauling it back into the skiff, and “bunting up”,  putting all the fish in a neat little pocket, before bailing the catch into the boat.

The crew hauls the net back in the skiff.

This had already been a long day and the hard work was just beginning. With most of the net back in the skiff, Belton (center) was ready to bunt up and bail fish. Belton Jr. handles the staff on the end of the net.

Stay tuned for the catch of the day.

Longnet Rigs

One of my most memorable impressions upon moving to Hatteras Island was to see locals earning their living as commercial fishermen. I had never seen anything like it before, and harvesting a bounty from the sea seemed a miracle. In the northern villages where I lived, the focal point of fishing activity was at the harbor in Rodanthe, known as “the creek”.

I used to hang out at the fish houses where the boats came in to pack out their daily catch. It amazed me to see them returning with hundreds of pounds of bluefish, trout, croakers and a myriad of other species.

When the longhaul rigs came in, they had catches in thousands of pounds. Longhauling, also referred to as longnetting, is a haul seine technique utilizing a huge length of net, sometimes a mile long. A longnet rig consists of three boats, two engine powered boats and a net skiff. At times, there would be four or five rigs working out of Rodanthe at the same time.

Two boats from a crew that came down from Colington, 1982.

Note the beautiful upward sheer line of the shad boat on the left, 1982.

Another rig from Colington, photographed in 1990.

Mac Midgett’s longnet rig at the creek, 1977.

View from atop Dale Midgett’s fish house, June 1982.

Sailing shad boats, converted to motor power, were preferred for their load carrying capabilities.

The Gray Boys rig from Avon, tied up at the fish house across the harbor, 1982.





The Mojon

Harry Midgett was Irvin’s father. He was one of those locals that had the ocean in his blood. He was a commercial fisherman as long as I knew him. I remember him mostly through his boat called the Mojon.

Mojon sat at the creek in Rodanthe for two or three years. If he wasn’t out fishing in the sound, he was working on that old wooden trawler. I was fascinated with the array of fishing gear, lines, outriggers and nets. To my eye, the equipment looked chaotic. But to the fisherman that used it, each piece had a function, and putting it in order could turn chaos into a livelihood.

Irvin and Robin on Mojon at the Rodanthe Creek, 1977.

The deck of Mojon shot with my large format camera.

This shot was taken looking south, through the rigging of Mojon at the Rodanthe Creek. Collins and Belton Gray’s longhaul boats sit rafted across the harbor.

Harry Midgett in 1977.

Harry moved Mojon from Rodanthe to Ocracoke. He was down there shrimping. The boat was tied up at the Park Service docks. My recollection is that the dockage was free for two weeks at a time. At the end of that time, he’d untie her and depart for sea. Then he returned, and tied up for a couple more weeks. He and Mojon were quite a hit with tourists looking for some local color.

Harry eventually took Mojon into the Gulf of Mexico were he continued to fish until his passing 15 or so years ago.

More Soul Surfers

Soul surfers ride waves for the sheer pleasure and experience, not to prove themselves through contests or competition. It doesn’t matter if someone has an ability better or worse. It really all comes down to one person, one wave and the interaction between the two.

One of my best friends in life has been Robin Gerald. We arrived on Hatteras in the early 70’s, exclusively to surf. Others came and went, but we have remained to this day. In the process we found ourselves a way to earn our livings that would permit us to drop everything when the waves got good. In our heyday, if the surf came up, one of us would know and alert the other. For years, it was sort of an unwritten pact of loyalty.

Robin is shown here dropping into an overhead wall at the old S-Curve site, October of 1976.

This 1998 photo shows Robin on a nice fun wave on the north side of the fishing pier at Rodanthe.

Robin was very adept at waterfowl hunting. He would often provide friends with hearty meals of fish or fowl or both. He was affectionately known as Marshman. Here in 1987, he retrieves a nice black duck from a fresh water pond in Buxton.

Another friend of mine was Ed Corley. He already lived on Hatteras when I arrived, and was an outsider, turned local. A short time later, he was involved in a horrible truck accident that landed him in a coma for 2 weeks. His recovery was slow, but he eventually gained most of his former self back. Ed and I bought 2 of the original Boogie Board kits and did a lot of body boarding together. It was good therapy for him in his recovery.

This photo of Ed was taken in the Fall of 1974 during a swell breaking near the ruins of the original Cape Hatteras Lighthouse in Buxton.

Ed Corley surfing the S-Curve in 1976.

Ed on a nice left at Salvo Shipwreck, 1974.

Ed chose commercial fishing as a way of life. Like many of the locals that fished for a living, he did it more because he loved it, than the financial rewards. This is a shot I made in 1977 when Ed, holding a sturgeon, was gillnetting in Pamlico Sound. He later went to work on offshore fishing trawlers, and relocated to Coos Bay on the Pacific coast. It was there that the boat he was working on sank on a stormy new years eve, taking him down with it.

to be continued….