Cumberland River fishing, circa 1900

Family stories... it's been a while since I posted this, and you might enjoy
a glimpse back through the years..... Joe
--------------------------------------
Around the start of the last century the Cumberland River that flowed by the
Haubenreich dairy farm was unpolluted and there were lots of fish in it.
Individual commercial fishermen worked at taking them for sale on the
Nashville market, using trotlines and hoop nets. (Trotlines are long lines
of heavy cord, with short lines tied on at intervals with a baited hook on
each. Hoop nets consist of a graduated series of wooden hoops holding open a
net, with the smaller, upstream end closed and a funnel of netting at the
downstream end.) Their catches consisted mostly of catfish, drum and
buffalo. In the 1890s carp imported from Germany had escaped into the
headwaters of the Mississippi but had not yet spread into the Cumberland.
The native buffalo fish looks something like a carp and brought a good price
on the Nashville markets, where they were eagerly bought by Jews and other
European immigrants accustomed to eating carp in the "Old Country." Big
buffalo might weigh 60 pounds or more. Catfish weighing more than 100 pounds
were uncommon but not rare. (Average weights were a few pounds.)
While he was a teenager, my grandfather, Ed Haubenreich, made friends
with a fisherman who worked the river beside the Haubenreich farm. He taught
Ed how to manage the simple skiff that he used to run his lines and nets,
where to set them, the best bait to use and how to wear down and bring big
fish into the boat. Sometimes the man would leave for a few days and when he
did, he would let Ed run his trotlines and his nets.
One time Ed started running a trotline and immediately realized that it
had hooked a fish bigger than any he had ever landed. It was powerful and
full of fight, so as he slowly worked his way along the line, he slipped the
knots and removed each dropper line as he came to it. He had been taught to
do that so whenever a really big fish made a run that couldn't be held, the
fisherman could let line slip through his hands without getting snagged on a
hook. Ed kept playing it until he got the fish near the surface. He then saw
it was a real whopper of a buffalo. Carefully he brought the fish alongside,
knelt and tipped the narrow skiff until its gunwale was nearly down to the
surface, put one arm around the fish and rolled it into the boat. He had
just unhooked it and dropped the trotline back in the water when the
powerful fish suddenly came to life and started flopping, almost knocking Ed
overboard. It did knock the paddle overboard, followed by the board that
normally rested across the gunwales as a seat. Ed stayed astraddle of the
buffalo, holding it down as the boat drifted on down the river. Finally it
quieted down enough for Ed to realize how far downstream the current had
carried him during the struggle. He spotted his paddle and seatboard
drifting downstream and with his hands paddled over to retrieve them. By the
time he had paddled over to the slack water near the shore and back up to
his landing place he was about as worn out as the buffalo.
When the old fisherman returned and heard from Ed about his fight with
the buffalo, he had a big laugh. Then he revealed a trick that he hadn't
thought to pass on to the youngster. When you bring a big fish into the boat
and it wants to keep flopping, he said, just take off your hat and put it
over its eyes. It will immediately lie still. Ed later tried it and sure
enough it worked.
The biggest fish Ed ever caught in the Cumberland he took from one of
the old fisherman's hoop nets. The way this kind of net worked was that fish
swimming upstream when the river water was muddy, as it often was, would
blunder into the funnel at the large, downstream end and be directed into
the confinement of the net. On one occasion, when Ed started lifting a net,
he discovered that it held a huge catfish. It had wedged itself into the
smallest hoop at the upstream end and was stuck there. This was fortunate,
because the net's mesh was old and rotten and tore easily. As it was, Ed was
able to grasp the hoop and roll the monster into the boat. It was a blue cat
that weighed about 120 pounds.
These early experiences addicted Ed to fishing and hunting and he
enjoyed them at every opportunity, wherever he went, even to the end of his
life.

Good story, Joe.

Carlos

Great stuff Joe, THANKS!

Warren

"Joe Haubenreich" wrote in
message . ..
Family stories... it's been a while since I posted this, and you might
enjoy
a glimpse back through the years..... Joe
--------------------------------------
Around the start of the last century the Cumberland River that flowed by
the
Haubenreich dairy farm was unpolluted and there were lots of fish in it.
Individual commercial fishermen worked at taking them for sale on the
Nashville market, using trotlines and hoop nets. (Trotlines are long lines
of heavy cord, with short lines tied on at intervals with a baited hook on
each. Hoop nets consist of a graduated series of wooden hoops holding open
a
net, with the smaller, upstream end closed and a funnel of netting at the
downstream end.) Their catches consisted mostly of catfish, drum and
buffalo. In the 1890s carp imported from Germany had escaped into the
headwaters of the Mississippi but had not yet spread into the Cumberland.
The native buffalo fish looks something like a carp and brought a good
price
on the Nashville markets, where they were eagerly bought by Jews and other
European immigrants accustomed to eating carp in the "Old Country." Big
buffalo might weigh 60 pounds or more. Catfish weighing more than 100
pounds
were uncommon but not rare. (Average weights were a few pounds.)
While he was a teenager, my grandfather, Ed Haubenreich, made friends
with a fisherman who worked the river beside the Haubenreich farm. He
taught
Ed how to manage the simple skiff that he used to run his lines and nets,
where to set them, the best bait to use and how to wear down and bring big
fish into the boat. Sometimes the man would leave for a few days and when
he
did, he would let Ed run his trotlines and his nets.
One time Ed started running a trotline and immediately realized that it
had hooked a fish bigger than any he had ever landed. It was powerful and
full of fight, so as he slowly worked his way along the line, he slipped
the
knots and removed each dropper line as he came to it. He had been taught
to
do that so whenever a really big fish made a run that couldn't be held,
the
fisherman could let line slip through his hands without getting snagged on
a
hook. Ed kept playing it until he got the fish near the surface. He then
saw
it was a real whopper of a buffalo. Carefully he brought the fish
alongside,
knelt and tipped the narrow skiff until its gunwale was nearly down to the
surface, put one arm around the fish and rolled it into the boat. He had
just unhooked it and dropped the trotline back in the water when the
powerful fish suddenly came to life and started flopping, almost knocking
Ed
overboard. It did knock the paddle overboard, followed by the board that
normally rested across the gunwales as a seat. Ed stayed astraddle of the
buffalo, holding it down as the boat drifted on down the river. Finally it
quieted down enough for Ed to realize how far downstream the current had
carried him during the struggle. He spotted his paddle and seatboard
drifting downstream and with his hands paddled over to retrieve them. By
the
time he had paddled over to the slack water near the shore and back up to
his landing place he was about as worn out as the buffalo.
When the old fisherman returned and heard from Ed about his fight with
the buffalo, he had a big laugh. Then he revealed a trick that he hadn't
thought to pass on to the youngster. When you bring a big fish into the
boat
and it wants to keep flopping, he said, just take off your hat and put it
over its eyes. It will immediately lie still. Ed later tried it and sure
enough it worked.
The biggest fish Ed ever caught in the Cumberland he took from one of
the old fisherman's hoop nets. The way this kind of net worked was that
fish
swimming upstream when the river water was muddy, as it often was, would
blunder into the funnel at the large, downstream end and be directed into
the confinement of the net. On one occasion, when Ed started lifting a
net,
he discovered that it held a huge catfish. It had wedged itself into the
smallest hoop at the upstream end and was stuck there. This was fortunate,
because the net's mesh was old and rotten and tore easily. As it was, Ed
was
able to grasp the hoop and roll the monster into the boat. It was a blue
cat
that weighed about 120 pounds.
These early experiences addicted Ed to fishing and hunting and he
enjoyed them at every opportunity, wherever he went, even to the end of
his
life.

"Joe Haubenreich"

Great story Joe. I wish I had one so great to share.




--
Posted via a free Usenet account from http://www.teranews.com

A really good read Joe!