Breton Touch

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 665, 17 May 1929, Page 1

Breton Touch

Fisher Fleet Puts Out To Sea CALM AFTER STORM Sails—some white, some dingy grey; but all picturesque—caught this morning’s brilliant sunshine. Fishing smacks of the Auckland fleet moved down the smiling Waitemata, bound for the Hauraki Gulf fishing grounds. fJ'HERE was pleasure on the faces of the crews. The sweeping winds which have torn every corner of the gulf for days past were forgotten. But these winds had penned the fleet in its haven in the city wharves. Relief came definitely last evening, and many smacks and launches left the harbour.

Hauraki’s tossing waters, had they continued, -would have troubled city housewives seriously. The inability of the fishing fleet to reach its grounds began to have an affect in the fish markets yesterday. There was a pronounced scarcity of fish available for shops and homes in Auckland. All because of the violent weather. What pleased housewives was that prices did not rise immediately. They would have had the heavy seas continued. Families still had the most sought lines of fish without considering greatly the fishermen’s problem. Keen men, these fishing crews. They have a decided tang of the ocean about them. COLOUR IN STRENGTH Surveying their battered, salt-en-crusted smacks, an artist would sigh for the exotic colour of the famed Bretou fishing fleets. There is nothing exotic about the Auckland fleet. But there is rugged strength . . . . Hauraki, with her sudden squalls, can prove a hard task-mistress. Strength in the men, too. Stalwart and grizzled, they can handle their little vessels with a high degree of efficiency. The only colour about them is provided by inevitable football jerseys. They are not Breton in their character.

But. watch the fleet glide out into the Waitemata. Grey hulls, moistened by rippling waves, reflect the sheen of Auckland’s harbour. Drab sails attract the gold of the sun. Colour can run riot unexpectedly among these shabby, efficient small craft. Distinctive touches in this diminutive fleet are not confined to the boats. Sleepy men who sun themselves on the fishing waterfront have their degree of the picturesque. They lounge around, immensely complacent, silently approving of the work of netmenders. They are mildly thrilled when eager fishermen return to port with exceptional hauls. The waterfront has a peace all its own. Sturdy fishers, unkempt craft, Happing sails, and the fishing grounds; wharves, marketers, shopmen and liousew r ives—all cogs in the machine of an interesting trade. Sails capturing the early morning sun on . the harbour —Auckland may have a Breton touch after all.