The following is my translation of an article called: Fischen mit Dynamit* von H. Ov. It appeared in a German popular science magazine, Kosmos Handweiser für Naturfreunde 1913, Heft 11, Seiten 423-425.
Field biology reports from the early twentieth century were often written by people who hunted, and that included many of the serious researchers. A shotgun was a usual part of the scientist's equipment. Close observation skills are also useful, and that applies whether you wish to study a marmoset or a seal, shoot them, or both. The first naturalists were generally hunters rather than makers of television documentaries or poets.
Even allowing for that context, the following article came with a 1913 health warning. Kids, please don't try this sort of stuff out. The fact that it was almost certainly illegal may be responsible for the anonymity of the author.
I'm not aware of any previous translation.
Trevor Dykes.

Fishing with dynamite* by H. Ov.
* Fishing with dynamite and other explosives is, for reasons concerning the protection of nature, forbidden in most fisheries. Nevertheless, this lively report by a Kosmos member may find interest from our readers even if, like us, they object to such mass murder, especially when the killed animals are not collected and used. It should also be borne in mind that this is not a case of regular plundering, as known from the whale steamers of the oil factories, but rather the prey is an important foodstuff for the population.
Comment from the editor.

There is a small island somewhere in the Malaysian archipelago. When, a few years ago, the entire world was in search of land that could be used for planting rubber trees, that was also a fate not avoided for most islands here; it was 'founded' and, on behalf of the company, a now long-term friend of mine planted their bald hills with rubber trees and coconut palms. We had lost track of one another for years until, one day, we ran into each other. He proudly told me of his new wealth and insisted that I should visit him there, but I could never fine the time to do so until, one day, a letter arrived from him. "I am sending a steamboat for you on Saturday morning, and it will be entirely at your disposal. You can travel whenever you like, but you simply must come. I have arranged a fishing trip with dynamite for Sunday, and getting another chance to see such a thing would not be easy."

That was most certainly a very tempting bait: fishing with dynamite is generally strictly forbidden, and only the lucky ruler of a remote island (I do not know to which state it belongs and, if I did know, then I wouldn't say) can allow themselves this sport. And it can only take place very rarely.

And so the impossible was made possible and, at noon on Saturday, I steamed out of the harbour. The small launch made its wobbly way against the winds of the western monsoon and, after a good rattling and rolling, I arrived on land following a three hour journey, and received a joyous welcome from my old friend and his pleasant wife. Before the fall of night we went to the Malaysian kampong. Earlier, the island was entirely unoccupied but, since the establishment of the plantations, a few Malaysian families have re-settled there, and their men work alongside contracted Chinese coolies as independent workers, and they find good service. The real Malaysians are born fishers and hunters, and joy lit up in all their brown faces when the master announced that we wanted to shoot fish the next morning, and whoever was free could join in.

The Malaysians were waiting for us at the landing quay very early the next morning, all clean in white jackets and colourful sarongs, and each had an additional piece of clothing comparable with an opened sack, which was skilfully fitted around the hips, and it is the most tasteful piece of attire in the world. We steamed off in the well equipped boat, a large Malaysian boat and a small dinghy on a tow rope. Everybody was in the best of moods and, after one of the young European officials reached a tongue of land and one of the brown society had exchanged a dollar, provided by me, for cheap cigarettes in the nearest kedei (a plantation shop), a rowing race developed between the dinghy and the heavy boat, accompanied by a lively crossfire of joking words. After a short pause, we were back underway, and nearing the place where the fist shot was to be let loose. The first charge was prepared: three sticks of dynamite were bundled together, and a detonator was fixed carefully into the middle with a fuse of about 30cm, which could also burn underwater, the whole package was attached to a house brick and, for safety, wrapped in a piece of old sail cloth so that only the fuse hung out. Our Malaysians, about 15 powerful men and slim, gracile lads, had meanwhile made themselves ready for war: jacket and sarong, otherwise the typical national upper costume, had disappeared to leave only the short trousers. Finally, the desired position is reached: the end of a coral reef lies in the middle of smaller islands, surrounded by somewhat deeper water. The small by-boat is manned by one European and two experienced Malaysian oarsmen: we others climb into the heavy boat, and the steam boat withdraws to a respectable distance.

The dinghy, with the prepared mine on board, hurries ahead; we follow in the large boat somewhat more slowly. Also slowly, the dinghy travels along the coral reef, stops still for a moment and then pulls away at maximum speed which the 4 strong Malaysian arms can provide: the fuse is lit and the mine sinks into the water. Our Malaysians are excited, and it is only with difficulty that we can stop them from rowing closer. A moment of breathless silence: then there sounds a dull explosion, apparently beneath the floor of our boat and, with a tug, our boat rises from the water, and our whole rowing team sets to work. We arrive at the spot within a few seconds at the same time as the dinghy, and everyone stands on the rowing benches and stares excitedly into the lightly murky water. And then something silver glistens; the first fish comes to the surface. A light cheer and splash, splash, our whole crew jumps into the water, splashing and blowing and snorting, laughing and cheering and joking, a wild competition for every fish and, from all sides, the scale-bearers rain into the boat. Then, after a moment, the water can clear and that allows diving to begin, then the majority and the best of the fish are lying on the bed of the sea. Like seals, brown fellows are rolling in the clear sea, with cheers and laughs, and there is great applause when one has caught an especially fine fish. The launch has also carefully come closer and, in the next moment, the whole crew from that has also jumped overboard leaving only the mechanic and helmsman.

And how these people can dive! Carefully, with the head underwater, they swim around: suddenly, in one movement, two wildly kicking legs are standing like candles from out of the water, and then the man quickly disappears into the deep, but then, just as rapidly, he resurfaces triumphantly waving the captured fish in his hand. The most capable bring 3 fish back on each occasion; one in each hand and the third between the teeth. Our old boatman, with his strong moustache, looks like a walrus as he, blowing, sniffing and shaking, returns to the surface with a fat fish between his teeth.

I had not brought a swimming costume and had wanted to only observe things from the boat, but finally I could contain myself no longer. The young planter, who had travelled with us, had already long since been in the water. One of our brown friends lent me a freshly washed sarong (the use of which is not unknown to me), and I also dropped into the clear sea, splashing, kicking and enjoying my life amidst the brown folk, more than I had enjoyed myself since a very long time. Naturally, things look very sad for the prey, and after our head seal had carefully explained where he had discovered a fish for me: the sea water bites into my eyes so I can no longer clearly see, and I soon give my efforts up. But what do all the fish mean, when compared to the joy of having a fine splash in the clear sea and bright sunshine!

When our best divers could finally find nothing more, we moved on. The launch again took us in toe and brought us a few miles further, while we enjoyed ourselves, sat upon the edge of the boat, dressed only in a sarong and a tropical hat, the feet in the water, and letting ourselves enjoy the drinks we had brought along. Then a new mine was prepared and we stopped at a suitable spot, and there the theatre was repeated. This time I stood excitedly on the rudder bench and, as the explosion hurried towards the boat, I stared curiously into the depths. Again the first fish appeared, and I expected that everyone would leap in after it, but "tuan dhulu" (the master first) sounded from all around, so I had to begin the dance. After I had triumphantly swung the first fish in my hand, the entire brown company followed but, in tactful ways, they left the easily catchable floating fish for me to take, so I was also able to deliver some to the boat on this occasion.

We fished like this three times, and that is enough for today: 7 large Red snappers are lying in the boat, and 134 smaller fish. There will be a feast tonight in the Malaysian village! The prey will be shared without dispute or argument. We Europeans will naturally have the largest fish but, apart from the manager, there are only 3 assistants on the island, and a fish for each household is more than enough, and so three of the highly prized ikan merah (Red snappers) will be for the use of the Malaysians. I had to decline my beautiful fish as we did not have enough ice to enable me to take it home. And even though I had nothing to take home from our fishing trip, other than for a back burned by the Sun and the cuts on my feet from the coral, how little that matters in comparison to such a wonderfully and happily lived day!

An index of more of my translations of old Kosmos articles can be found at:

Kosmos Translations Archive

A number of Mesozoic (and post-Mesozoic) location summaries can be found at Localities.