The boat sets out to fish in a fresh breeze and a choppy sea. Her net is fixed to a long, iron-clad spar of wood which is lowered by means of two cables running off two rollers fore and aft. Drifting in the wind and the current, she pulls this juggernaut of a dragnet along the seabed, scooping up all in its path.

Javel had on board his younger brother, four men and a ship’s boy. He had set off on the trawl from Boulogne in beautiful, clear weather. Soon, however, the wind rose and a sudden squall forced the trawler to tack out of its way. She reached the coast of England, but here a raging sea was hurling itself against the cliffs and beating so hard upon the coast that it was impossible to put in at any harbour. The trawler put out again into the open sea and made for the French coast. The storm was raging still. It was impossible to put in: every approach to safety was barred by perilous, roaring white water.

The trawler set out yet again, running over the back of the sea, buffeted and battered by streaming banks of water. Despite the conditions, the crew were undaunted. The ship was built for the sort of weather which could keep her drifting between the two countries and unable to make landfall on either for five or six days at a time. At last, when she was way out in the open sea, the storm subsided. Despite a heavy swell, the skipper ordered the net to be cast.

Accordingly, the great apparatus was set in motion. Two men, one fore and one aft, controlled the cables on the rollers holding it in place. Suddenly, the net touched bottom. But just at that same moment the boat was pitched sideways by a huge wave and young Javel, up in the bow, stumbled, only to find his arm pinned behind the cable as the tension momentarily slackened. With his free hand, he made a desperate effort to shift the cable, but the weight of the net pulling it downwards meant it would not give an inch.

Doubled up in agony, the man called for help. Everyone ran up. His brother left the helm, and the entire crew now hurled themselves on the cable in an effort to disengage the limb in process of being crushed. It was no good.

‘Got to cut it!’ said one of the sailors, drawing out of his pocket a large knife which in two strokes would have saved young Javel’s arm. But that meant losing the net, which was worth a vast amount of money – fifteen hundred francs. The net belonged to Javel the elder who valued his property highly.

His heart in torment, he shouted, ‘No! Don’t cut yet! See what happens if I bring her into the wind.’