Hand-knotted fishing net
This item was a prize from the Hunt for History.
Item
a hand-knotted fishing net
Show
A heavy rope forms the outer edge of the net, providing a secure anchor for the lightweight twine knotted through the center. Overhand knots form the interior diamond pattern and pull the net closer together toward the middle, where a small, rough sphere of iron has been tied in place as a weight. Loops of heavy rope at intervals around the edge allow the net to be secured to a boat during use.
Details
No other details are known.
Loresong
As you begin your song, you catch the scent of saltwater and a chill breeze.
Your vision fades, and when it returns, you find yourself inside a rough cabin. Stacked buckets, upside-down cages and lengths of rope border the plank walls on all sides. The interior is damp but hardly chill as a cast iron stove warms the building from its place in the center of the room. Many men are hard at work, most concentrating on the task of knotting fishing nets. Tall posts are set at intervals with anchoring rope strung between them. Young boys and men alike carefully knot the paired strands of twine that dangle from the rope, creating a symmetrical diamond pattern as they work their way down. An elderly fishermen makes his way around the room, puffing at his pipe and checking the tension of the nets as he goes. Occasionally he'll stop to share a laugh or offer a pointer and it is obvious this is a traditional activity for the men in this area.
Your vision fades, and when it returns, you see an elderly fisherman standing on the end of a dock. Wind whips over the sea, creating endless ripples and whitecaps in the bottle-green water. His cap is pulled low over his eyes as he studies the clouds on the horizon with a practiced air. Having gathered all he needs from above, the fisherman steps onto a floating platform and crouches near its edge, dipping his hand into the water and letting it run between his fingers. Satisfied with what he has found, he rises once more and turns to return to land. His fishermen companions await him anxiously, and as he moves along the planks, walking with the familiar stride of someone who has neither care nor worry for speed, he shakes his head at them.
Your vision fades, and when it returns, you see fires built near the cabin and dock to warm the crowd that has gathered, mead passing freely among them. Children run and laugh around the area, as the fishermen bring their new fishing nets from the cabin and load them into the boats that have been tethered to the dock. Once the equipment has been stowed on board, the crews man their ships and sail out into the sea, waving cheerfully at those who remain on shore.
Your vision fades, and when it returns, you see a scattering of fishing boats bobbing on the surface of the sea. They are far from shore and their families are just small dots along the beach. The men of each boat cast their nets into the water, three nets per boat thrown so that they sink beneath the waves in a perfect line.
Your vision fades, and when it returns, the fishermen on the boats are hauling in their nets. The end nets are turned inside out so that the fish caught within them can return to the sea. The middle net is examined carefully, however, as the senior fisherman on each boat sorts the crustaceans and fish into two separate boxes that sit open on the deck. One by one, you see them each straighten up from the boxes, smiles upon their faces. They signal to the other men on their boats, pointing to the box in which the lobsters and crabs have been deposited. These boxes are nearly empty, and the crews break into cheers. Each boat runs a green flag crossed with blue up its mast to signal the shore with the good news.
Although you catch the scent of saltwater and a warm breeze as the notes of your song unfold, no new visions follow.