Preserving Old Florida: The Art of Making Castnets

Thomas Underwood testing a newly repaired net

TERRA CEIA -- Legend has it that they caught Willis Underwood’s mentor in a net.

“They used to tell me that they caught ole Ed Lee in a castnet, 'cause he was runnin from 'em, said Willis. “He was one o' them Guerreros, they was the first family to settle this island and he was the first one to teach me how to make a net.”

Mullet fishing has been a huge part of culture in the area for centuries. The early settlers depended on it as a major food source. Because the fish are vegetarian, it was necessary to construct nets to catch them. The art of net making has weaved its way down through the generations. As fishermen sew away at the stitches, they’re sustaining a historical staple that still very much represents Manatee County culture.

Caloosa natives were expert fisherman and made their nets of palm-tree webbing. Mullet were considered a delicacy and valued for their high content of omega three oil and fatty meat that they preserved by smoking.

The oldest fragments of gill-nets were found on Marco Island and “showed extremely fine workmanship that is very similar to the nets used in commercial fishing today,” said author Charlotte Englewood in her Herald Tribune editorial.

A net maker's toolbox

When Spanish settlers immigrated to the area in the mid-1500’s cotton twine was adopted as the material of choice.

Ninety-seven year old Willis, who lives in the Dole homestead on Terra Ceia Island, remembers the time like it was yesterday. He came to the area at age 16 and became a share cropper on John Anderson’s farm. Willis turned to living off the land for his provisions and caught mullet to survive.

“At the end of the second crop he says, Willis you owe me $900," recalled Wllis. "Well ya had to keep workin’ for him or you’d starve to death. Course I neve' heard a nobody eve' starving to death, but I was afraid I would. So I made my castnets to fish wit so I would'n’ have to worry.”

Spanish nets were sewn with a wooden needle, fiddled out of any hearty wood. Loops of twine were tied with a ruler-like-piece that was placed in between the knots as a gauge for how big the mesh would be and then removed before tightening. Smaller mesh would catch baitfish -- larger mesh would catch mainly mullet.

“I rememba’ the first time E.B. Dole come on down dah road in a Model T Ford pick-up truck. An he got his net out and I was watchin'em ya know, an' he tied this ole fertilizer sack to his belt loop an I was followin’em ya know, an he says, 'you wanna carry the bag for me'? I said yeah, an from then on evera’ ole time he’d come I’d get the bag ready an carry it for em’. His net had brails in it. I neva' had one wit brails in it.”

The horn of the net with the brail coming out of the top

Brails are lines attached to the lead line that tighten the end of the net so the fish can’t escape. Most nets now have brails, but they were a rarity during the early twentieth century. Without any brails, the fishermen would have to break the necks of the mullet before emptying the net to ensure that they couldn’t get away.

The horn at the top of the net was initially made out of a steer’s antlers. Today it is made of plastic or PVC.

Around the mid-nineteenth century, nylon was invented. Fishermen were much obliged to turn in their slow-drying cotton twine for something that was more water resistant and gilled the fish better. However, the nylon nets had to be dipped in a chemical called Coppertox to preserve and stiffen them.

“We couldn’t afford Coppertox, so we just mixed up some ole paint and some gas and dipped 'er in there, and sometimes tar,” said Thomas Under wood, Willis’ son.  Thomas learned from his family the art of castnet making. Even though he wasn’t alive for the cotton twine days, he still uses the technique to make things like hammocks.

“My daddy was a fisherman and my grandfather was a boat builder. I never had no use for a pole -- don’t really know nothing about it.  I caught everything I needed with a net or a spear,” he said.

Carly's 'special' knot tying job

Thomas, much like his father, lives like a pioneer in the midst of suburban sprawl. Yet, his thirty-five acres of property on the Manatee River remains untouched. It is a hunting and fishing haven and a relic of how Florida used to be. Thomas lives in a house he built with his own two hands and decorated with things he scavenged from island shores after a storm. He has a pet feral hog, catches mullet and mends and makes nets for a living. Of course he can make net’s the old way, but the new way is easier and takes a lot less time.

“My mother used to make nets," said Thomas. “That’s how my dad met my mother. He was a fisherman and she mended nets on the net spread. I guess they had to dry out those ole cotton nets or they’d rot.”

The new material for nets now is monofilament. The mesh can be purchased at a place in Tampa called Lee Fisher. Buying netting is similar to buying a yard of material, only it is measured differently. Compared to starting with a ball of twine, the new way of net making is much more efficient. It used to take a person an entire week to make one. Now it will take about a day to any competent net-maker with a routine.  

Once purchased, the mesh is cut into seven panels at forty-five degree angles and sewn together to form of a pie shape. Then leads are set up at the bottom to weigh down the net so it sinks. They must be spaced as accurately as possible or else it can affect the cast.

Netting needles, the one made out of metal is the 'yankee style'

“I got me a special sewing machine, a Japanese sewing machine that my wife she sews these bait nets up with. She sews the seven panels together, then I put a horn in it and set down and sew this lead line on it by hand. The net company in Tampa, everything comes from Taiwan and over there they got the little sweatship girls, I call um, that puts on the leads and sews on the line,” said Carly Watson.

New nets need brails because the monofilament will not gill the fish like the nylon used to. Without the brails mullet can escape from underneath.

“I crimp my leads to keep them in place otherwise it won’t look good and it won’t be good. Then it’ll make a perfect net. It will be perfect,” said 93-year old Carly Watson, who has been making nets since age 14.  

He and his wife still make them today and sell them out of their garage. No need to advertise, as Carly’s nets are so sought after that he is perpetually constructing them. Carly has adapted to making nets the new way, but he was raised in Palmetto and remembers the times when the old nets were prominent.

“When I was young, if you had leads on your line, you was well off,” said Willis Underwood.

Thomas sews a net the 'old' way

Carly must have known the same hardships because even now he recycles all of his leads and re-uses them on the new ones that he’s constructing.

“My wife hates mullet. She was one of them that survived off of mullet, mango and guava during the depression. She just got burnt out I guess. She makes me cook my mullet on a hotplate in the garage. I can’t even bring it in the house,” said Carly.

The technique has been adapted through time but the culture is still present today. Those who want to experience it will be welcomed to in the coolness of Carly’s garage or shade of the Underwoods’ banyan tree. As for everyone else, they can appreciate the effort every time they take a delicious bite of smoked mullet.