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Fishing has always been a big part of life in the South Arm Peninsula. For those new arrivals in South Arm there were fish the likes of which had never been seen before....
"I captured two curious fish the other day and sent them to the museum. They were called Jew or Elephant fish. They have a head something like a rabbit and a proboscis."
Letter from James Parkinson, Iron Pot Lighthouse Keeper, written January 1876
... and quantities of fish caught that fishermen today could only dream of...
"Mr. W. Burnett... reports a fine haul of barracouta yesterday near the Derwent Lighthouse. Starting early in the morning, the craft was back to the Old Wharf before sundown, with 180 dozen 'couta on board. Very considerately, he asks us to notify that as he cannot expect to sell the entire catch, he will be prepared to distribute the fish free among any poor people who choose to apply this morning."
The Mercury, 18 January 1906
There were even some nasty surprises... in 1898 a Tiger Shark hooked off the Iron Pot was opened up to reveal the remains of a cotton shirt and partially digested flesh. The Head Keeper, Henry Boon, wondered whether it might have been Henry Hanks, the missing pilot's man.
Growing up in South Arm in the 1930s Maurice Potter remembers how nets were thrown into the shallows off Spring and South Arm beaches to pull in catches of flathead, cod and perch. And even today, if you are lucky, fishing from the beach (or even not really fishing!) can reap rewards... a visitor to Halfmoon Bay was surprised when an Octopus wrapped it's tentacles around his leg while standing in shallows. A mistake the Octopus would not make again as it was promptly carried up the beach, dispatched and deposited on a nearby BBQ.
Fishing on the Rocks
SPLASH…zzzz…zzzzzzz…zz I GOT ONE! I wind up furiously as hard as I can I pull, trying to snag my first fish... I’m yelling ‘DADDY I GOT ONE’. I pull and pull harder. Eventually I pull it onto the rocks, I look at it, I go to touch but dad stops me and says ‘Oscar don’t touch that, it has poisonous spines'. So I don’t touch but ask what type is it. 'It’s a Gurnet’ dad says. Then I asked another question: why it is so small? ‘Because it’s a baby’. So as a memory at the Pigeon Holes we put the baby Gurnet in a nice pond.
Oscar (11 years)