John Nelligan RIP - the death of a fisherman from a different era.

Looking back to the 70s and 80s, though it might not have seemed like it at the time, South West ports like Newlyn were buzzing with fishermen, boats and fish.

Fishermen were learning that action through unity (though it has to be said, the incumbent government (and current) failed them on issues like an exclusive 12 mile limit) was needed to help protect the fleet, in particular the huge inshore handline fleet...

from winter visitors; displaced Grimsby and Hull distant-water stern trawlers...

and an all-powerful Scottish purse seine fleet chasing the mammoth mackerel shoals...

then, a group of visionary fishermen led by George Lawry and his wife Daphne set up the CFPO (Cornish Fish Producers Organisation) to protect and fight for a better fishing future - in it's first big fight, the CFPO was instrumental in bringing pressure to bear and the introduction of the protective 'mackerel box' that exists to this day...

but the times they were a'changing, the bulk of the bigger boats that had been longlining for decades...

changed over to multi- then mono-netting for white fish, and soon to include hake...

the port record, long held by the most powerful boats in the port, was smashed by the 37ft tosher, Boy Gary...

netting for dogs...

as the fleet diversified and the tiers grew to fifteen or more boats deep...

Newlyn harbour was dredged and the 'new quay' built to reduce the size of tiers and allow landing at all states of the tide...

the ageing fleet of wooden sidewinders was supplemented by...

rebuilt and an equally ageing fleet of ex-MFV wooden beam trawlers...

 

along with a growing number of steel ex-Dutch beam trawlers that were to dominate landings well into the 2000s...

meanwhile, the French boats, who sheltered in numbers in Newlyn...

 only in the most severe weather...

replaced their entire fleet in a matter of years with fully shelterdecked steel stern trawlers...

apart from netting boats diversified from traditional fisheries and methods and tried pair trawling, prawn trawling, wreck netting, tangle netting and more, there seemed plenty of fish to feed a growing number of boats all of which needed crewing...

there was even a Fishermen's Mission in Newlyn staffed to provide for the welfare and an amenity for the dozens of men living aboard visiting vessels...

at that time, the number of skipper-owners increased, one such venture saw the ex-Lorient Keriolet bought by Andrew 'Traz' Treloar after realising the crawfish fishery he had prosecuted was finished he saw a future... 

along with many other similar skippers in trawling - this band of brothers became known as the 'clan'.

Despite the skills needed, there were plenty of willing men (and a few women) keen to take on the fishing way of life which promised something way more attractive than a mundane shore job with bigger financial rewards to boot - even though that meant that, as share-fishermen, there was no job security or guarantee of a berth, wage, equal or sick pay, or any other of the niceties that trade unions had fought so hard for as a matter of right in regular shore employment - fishermen had but three 'rights', the right to be fed at sea, the right to be re-patriated from a port other than their own and, most crucially, the right to see the settling sheet (a record of all the fish landed from the trip and how much it made at auction) - though there were some boats for whom even that was a problem - but that did't stop the flow of new recruits...

and, so it was that guys like John Nelligan found themselves learning fast: to mend, to splice, to take a watch and to handle fish - here he's seen behind s good haul of prawns gutting a hake aboard the Keriolet SS114, trawling on the Smalls...

and here, with his summer headgear, helping skipper Traz make fast a full cod end with ...

a scene wonderfully re-created in charcoal by local artist Nick Henshaw. 

John's time aboard the Keriolet and other fishing boats about that time epitomised the freedoms and fortunes of the era. It's hard to imagine today, but back then there were no official log books, other than that kept by some skippers, no VMS, rarely any crew insurance, fishing operations and navigation was by rented Decca Mk21 and 350T plotter accurate to within a distance that varied by time of day, season and weather! Many trawlers still had belt driven winches with all the inherent grief of repairing the argumentative belt when it broke - which it did, often. 

Most boats under 60ft lacked even basic toilet facilities, a bucket - not the easiest thing to perch on in any weather - sufficed, being on watch for hours without an auto pilot meant hand steering, which took a lot of concentration in a heavy following sea if you didn't ant to piss off those down below trying to sleep and all fresh produce was kept on ice down below in the fishroom - making getting fresh milk while steaming in poor weather something of a challenge. Despite all this, from punts to the largest beam trawlers, boats were fully crewed - Grimmy Mike's was the only inshore trawler to work singlehanded through choice - Stevenson's and other owners controlled the steady flow of fishermen from those ports in decline and incomers like Nelligan, as he was known - all were willing to crew to keep the growing fleet at sea. The romance of the sea and fishing still drew them in, in droves. 

Ben My Chree hauling when pair trawling with the Keriolet

These incomers didn't consider themselves special in themselves. Simply, those that stuck at it were just prepared to put up with a huge amount of discomfort and shit for something different, the something different that fishing is. Back then, wooden boats were notorious for their leaking decks - some bunks were referred to as being 'en suite' to a new recruit - ie you got a shower when the weather was bad as the deck were constantly awash on a long steam home in a gale. Call it a dream, a calling or whatever, whatever 'it' was it made for different outlook and a special time - the 'best of times' according to retired skipper Steve Hicks recently at the passing of yet another fellow fishermen called to the big wheelhouse in the sky.

Today, many things are different. Pay goes straight to a bank account, crews are insured, many are paid during periods of layup, there are paid net setters and pot riggers ashore to keep the boats in gear. Crew can get paid time off. The boats too are way better today: much newer, better designed, safer, drier, fitted with every modern comfort - probably more so than the homes of many crew - especially the many foreign hands.  

Satellite navigation pinpoints not only the position of the boat but also the position of every hitch, obstacle and wreck on the seabed to within a few metres. AIS tracks every ship around showing who they are, how big they are and exactly the direction that each is headed which means that in thick fog or reduced visibility you never have to call everyone out of their bunks in a panic because the radar which was your only mens of 'seeing' where other vessels were was always only ever relative to yourself. ILO regulations have seen to it that the welfare and safety of skipper and crews are now enshrined in legislation in a way that the Nelligans of this world would not recognise - not that he would have argued with the improvements!

A hand on Grace

It would be good to think that what hasn't changed today is that same sense of not-knowing adventure that drew John and thousands of others to become fishermen, even if only for a short period of their lives. Like many his affinity with the sea (almost as strong as his affinity for women - which was legendary as attested to by his wife Maddie's piece in the Cornishman) never left him and in 2003 he bought and restored the lugger Britannia which he re-named, Grace after his mother. For many years Grace graced Penzance wet dock and many Breton ports and festivals, optimally with largely female crews - a floating testament to his sense of fun and endearing Irish love of the 'craic'. 

Two memories of sailing with the never-dull Nelligan come to mind. In heavy weather when he was down the fishroom putting fish away the ever-rolling and unpredictable Keriolet (notorious for rolling even in the confines of the harbour) would test his patience to the extreme. 

Profanities would emanate out of the fishroom hatch and he could be heard to engage in a totally one-sided conversation with an apparent and unknown crew member - constantly hurling abuse at him amidst the crash of boxes as he slid or fell heavily on the icy fishroom floor - all we knew was this mystery crewman, who only ever appeared when Nelligan was down below, was called, Eejit! He was a smoker, but never at sea, only when in the pub socialising!

RIP John, who has now gone to join those others who once chose to go to sea to fish for a part of their lives.

Here's an extract and final few words from his wife Maddie.

"And there's the folk from The Blue Anchor in Helston, and of course numerous ex-girlfriends - too many to mention - a first wife, friends from the past in St Ives and from years fishing out of Newlyn and the flower business, and those he met whilst keeping horses. So many friends and lives gently touched by my darling John, my love and my best friend. Raise a glass to him when you get a chance, and we will throw a party to celebrate his life on April 28, 2023, in Galicia. Please get in touch with John's wife Maddie Nelligan if you want to come.