Until not
too many years ago, when Jems (Jimmy Linton) my bosom buddy from
boyhood days retired and gave up his salmon fishing concession,
Earlsferry and Elie had quite a valuable salmon fishery. Prior to Jems, who
used a powered boat, the fishery concession was operated by men
who went to sea in a heavy wooden salmon cobble. The cobble was
about eight feet wide and maybe fifteen feet long and required
all the brawn of six men at the oars to propel it. Salmon swim
along the bays such as Largo Bay, Shell Bay, West Bay,
Earlsferry and Elie Bay then
around the headlands between these bays. They swim just outside
of the breaker line. At the ends of the bays, where the
bays meet the headlands, salmon nets are set. Long net leaders
are set to funnel the salmon into the entry way of the bag of
the net. Once in the bag, the salmon are captive until the
salmon fishermen come to unload the net. Many times I got to go
along in the cobble. It was great fun. In these days all of
the salmon fishing nets and gear were stored for the winter in
The Granary at the Elie Harbor.
There are
other salmon fishers who never fail to reap their harvest.
These are the mighty seals that appear to hunt in
organized packs. If you watch closely you'll see them surface
in an even spacing all along the shore line. Once they've
gorged themselves they come ashore on to places like the island
(at high tide) that lies just off Ruddons Point where they sleep
and rest. Another place they lay up between hunting spells is
on the Wester Voos just off the Sea Hole of the golf course.
Golfers playing on the tenth to the fourteenth fairways can
hear them bellowing and roaring. When you're in a small boat they'll allow you to come
quite close. My favourite place to observe them was from the
tiny bit of land that becomes an island at high tide that lies
just out from the tip of Ruddons Point. There I maintained a blind that I
made from piling up big rocks and boulders that I found nearby.
This was a perpetual job as the tide had other ideas as to me
building on its territory. There was one big old fellow that
over the years I learned to readily recognize. I named him
Charlie. By his battle scars he was quite distinctive. I had a
penny whistle that I played when I spotted him. He was quite a
curious creature and would come quite close to me. I'm sure
that he recognized me. He wasn't afraid of me. He'd allow me
to approach very close to him. I could walk over the rocks
right up to him until I just got too close. My blind on the
island was also a great place to watch the great variety of sea
birds that stopped by including the swans, geese and ducks that
flew down from Kinneuchar Loch.
I'd go on to the island when
the tide was out. As the tide comes in this tiny bit of
land becomes completely surrounded by the sea. In all the
times that I let myself become cut off from the mainland, apart
from the wild creatures that live there, never
once did I ever see another soul.
The
island became
my perfect place.
Beyond the Shore
