After five voyages a man is authorised to take the command, and though styled captain, he is nothing more than the head of the fishermen. It is his work to keep the account of the number of cod caught; the sailors taking care as they hook a fish to cut out its tongue and place it in a bag hung to their belt. When the hour of repose comes the tongues are taken to the captain, and about ten centimes is allowed for each. The second in office is only chosen as being the most skilful with his line; then comes the man who cuts off the cods' heads, opens and prepares the fish for the salter; and lastly the one who lays them in the barrels and closes them for sale.
With this short description of the crew we will pass over the voyage, as described by a French writer, M. Aragon, and take the reader to the Icelandic coast, Patrix-Fiord, where a number of vessels are already collected. Deserted during the past season, it now presents a scene of the greatest animation. A man-of-war is there to provide for any repairs that may be needed; carpenters and blacksmiths are busy doing their work, the bay echoes with the noise of hammers and saws. Other vessels, called _chasseurs_, come from France to take away the fish. On the shore rises the little wooden hut of the _cocman_, a Danish merchant who lives there during the summer months to trade with the people and sell spirits. No night comes on to interrupt the incessant labour; during the middle of May the sun is never below the horizon, and but a few stars may be seen on the zenith about the end of June.
Those ships that have chosen their position for fishing take down their sails and lie as quietly at anchor as the wind will permit, the men standing in a close line at the side of the vessel. They are clothed from head to foot in knitted or flannel garments, with waterproof capes and hats. A petticoat of strong linen is tied round the waist, descending below the knees, and to preserve the feet from wet they wear woollen stockings and waterproof boots. Thick woollen gloves lined with leather save their hands from the injury of constant friction from the heavy line. The whole forms a curious picture of ragged, patched, greasy, well-tarred habiliments, which a comic pencil might rejoice to portray. The men, indifferent to their appearance, seek only to be saved from moisture. The lines they use are necessarily very heavy to bring on board a fish weighing say forty pounds. There are two hooks baited with the entrails of fish; but the voracity of the cod is such that it is scarcely necessary to be too particular as to the lure. Thus the men stand for six hours consecutively, gently moving the line, and when a shake indicates a catch, lifting the heavy weight on board.