Some people fish for fun, some consider it a sport, others fish because they have blooming[11] well got to. I am one of them. Down here the job is often anything but a joyous one in cold driving wind and snow, fingers so cold that one can scarcely remove the hooks from the fishes’ mouths. Sometimes the blizzards sweep down and it is all we can do to fight our way inch by inch back to the ship.... Macklin writes in this connexion: The fish here are of excellent quality and have the peculiarity that when cooked they do not taste fishy. Green usually fries them in olive oil and they are particularly good. The best spots for finding fish are in belts of kelp close to the edge where the tides sweep in and out. Whale meat (not blubber) makes a good bait and a spinner (or any piece of bright tin) helps to attract the fish. One can usually moor the boat to the strands of kelp, but it is advisable always to have on board a small kedge anchor and a good length of line in case of being swept away by the blizzards which blow from the hills with strong, sudden blasts. Green is a great enthusiast, and is always willing to come, whatever the weather.... There is no sport in the actual fishing, for the fish abound in great quantities and are very sluggish. The chief art lies in knowing just where to go for them. There are two kinds, which we speak of as “ordinary” fish and “crocodile” fish. The first, as the name implies, have nothing peculiar about them. The latter have immense mouths with crocodile-shaped jaws and look hideous. The tail is small, and indeed it may be said that there is more mouth than anything else. The trip to Gritviken was uneventful and we arrived there the same day.