“BOBBING.”
(By La Paresse.)
■‘V/bat does ‘bobbing 1 mean?” somebody may inquire. Well, “bobbing 1 just means using a “bob,” and we will lot the dictionary define that substantive. “Bob, 11 says Annandalo (among a variety of other applications) “a knot of worms on a string, need in fishing for cels.” Here some reader may feel disposed to turn away in disgust—but patience. The eel, despite its somewhat serpentine form, and slimy skin is by no means tho least, tasty of edible fishes. There are, of course, a vast variety of eels— Nature never plays a game with only one suit—but tho average colonial knows only three of these—the conger cel, the sand eel, and the eel without ■Explicative, which is the eel par excellence. In mentioning the gustatory qualities of the eel, the writer would bo understood to make no reference to tho coarse and common conger, which, in a more or less advanced stage of—let, us say, mellowness, is beloved of Iho Maori epicure. Neither would he wish either to praise or dispraise the isand cel, for his experience of this ispccies, if species it is, has been but limited. The kind of which he would write is tho plain eel without pretensions, as it is known throughout the rivers and freshwater lakes of New Zealand.
Originally instructed in another land .In that branch of tho gentle art which concerns itself with the ensnaroinent of tho common eel, tho writer had never even read of “bobbing” till ho made acquaintance with that ancient practice an the banks of a New Zealand stream. Briefly, bobbing, which may now bo unshackled of its superfluous inverted commas, is a simple word for an oven more simple process. Probably it originated with the same primitive person who floated in tho first dug-out, or it may oven have antedated that bold adventurer.
To go bobbing it is essential to have not only a desire for eels, but also tho know lodge of how to make a bob. (This last phrase permits of a mis-read meaning, but that is merely the misfortune of our language, and must not bo allowed to interfere with the progress of this AValtonian disquisition.) To make a bob it is necessary to secure a supply of earthworms. Scientific terminology again failing me, I must do my best with the vernacular, and say that !he correct kind of earthworm is a big ■fellow—tho kind one never secs naturally on the surface of the ground, and which runs at times up to ten inches pr a foot in length. {Parenthetically H may be remarked that other earth worms and other things may, on an emergency, be made to- serve, but the true bobbing enthusiast despises them, and therefore ihev will hereafter bo assumed to be of the things which are not.)
To secure earthworms of the correct species and proportions, one has to “know a place/’ and, arrived there with spado and receptacle—a billycan for choice—has to delve and sweat. If ho is not prepared to do these things ho may alternatively and advisedly have recourse to devious devices, and still attain, his utlimato end. Ho may, for example, patronise some able-bodied lad who hungers for an outing by the river’s brim, and haring with wily bonhomie subtly, lured him to the preliminary place, ho may by words of laudation
thereafter urge him' to hard manual labour. This is the easiest and withal the pleasantest way of securing bait. Having obtained a sufficiency of worms for two or three bobs, to wit, about three or four pounds in total weight, he may, and advisedly will, further spur his assistant to the final act of preparation. This comrfsts in stringing tho fleshy lumhrics on four or five feet of good hempen twine, and looping this into such shape that it resembles in no indistinct fashion a bunch of miniature sausages. Secured thus, and attached to three or four feet of stout whipcord, tho worms may cease to bo considered as such, having lost their individuality and, lot us hope, their feelings—in tho aggregation of the hob. A good stout rod or pole, to tho point of which the other end of the cord is attached, completes the apparatus. A night in summer is the time for bobbing, but a beginning may be madeeven ae the sun dips over the western horizon. It is better that the water run shallow rather than deep, two to four feet being the most suitable sounding. There must also be a clear place 1 for a landing—an open sward not too high above the water level is best of all. Hero your eel may bo gently and certainly landed, and with your “Man Friday” eager to see sport, you can fish with the height of lazy luxury. Your attendant must, of course, have a sack or a basket, the former for preference. Depth taken, and adjustment of line made accordingly, the fisherman drops his bob to the bottom, and failing an early bite, moves it up and down gently every now and then. Ho bobs in fact —hence the application of tho word. If there are eels—arid what use going if there are not?—he will not be long without a bite. If ho has two bobs on separate poles, bites at each may even come simultaneously. "When tho contact comes, if he is a wise “bobber” ho just feels it gently, and protostingly, and coyly, as it were, shrinks from such familiarity. "When, however, he feels a firm grip taken with perhaps a savage shake of his polo and arms, he firmly but steadily withdraws his lure, and with it, hanging on as tenaciously as a bull-dog, will surely come the most enterprising eel within range of the sweet odour of bis bait. With a swirl and splash like that of a rising trout, the victim leaves the ■water, and with a thud ho lands upon tho grass. Man Friday falls all oyer him in his anxiety, and bedaubing himself witli sheets of slime, at last secures him in tho bag. Thereafter according to tho quality of his fishing ground, and until his bobs are torn to shreds, eel after eel is landed by the aiert bobber. That now and then one drops back into the water, or even wriggles his way in from tho bank, matters nothing. Probably the fellow who has had such a lucky let off is the first to tempt Providence again, on the return of the bait. Eels are not unlike men in some respects, but let that go. When the night has worn late the fisherman throws away his gear, and with Man Friday shouldering the spoils, makes his way towards his vehicle or his home. Sometimes, being no lover of luxuries, and disdaining other than sport, he bestows on his accomplice tho whole result of the exertions, in which case Man Friday smiles broadly and says, “Thank you, sir”—or otherwise.
That is bobbing, and apart from the material gain to him who loves good things, is far from bad fun. It is kind-
ly sport, too, when looked at aright, for it eases the struggle for existence of the younger eels coming on, and in New Zealand rivers does the trout fisher, and, incidentally, the trout, a mighty service. For bo it known to those who hitherto have known it not, an “old man eel”—that is, a fellow ranging, from 5 to 30 lb in weight, is a piscatorial terror, not only to mother trout which secrete their ova in the gravel only to he rooted up by his shovel muzzle, but also to- large living fish. Further, he knows how to sneak a duckling or a young swan, and does not let his knowledge rust, and lurking under banks and boulders, is generally a shady character. Bn revanche ho is tho chosen bonne bouche of the Maori, and, parboiled and then baked, constitutes a dish no sensible European need despise.
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Bibliographic details
New Zealand Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 5737, 4 November 1905, Page 11
Word Count
1,331“BOBBING.” New Zealand Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 5737, 4 November 1905, Page 11
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