The one

It was a perfect day. The fishing lines were out. The boat was doing 6.4knots. We were sure  we were going to catch one. Our friend Glenn had the camera ready for the moment, I was      sharpening my chef knife, and the captain was imagining all the different ways to cook what    ever bit the lured.


That morning we were living St Lucia. That is,
usually, an uncomfortable channel to sail. But that day, for some
special reason the sea was calm, the wind was blowing 15 knots, the
current was with us. Ideal! The only thing missing was a beautiful
fish.

After breakfast there was not much to do. The sails were
trimmed and the wind didn't changed for the first few hours. So we
just told stories about fishing, travelling and life experiences.
Lunch time came all the sudden, we didn't even noticed it, and we had
no fish for a sushimi, so I proposed spring rolls instead. 


I started chopping my vegetables: red peppers, scallions, cilantro,
cabbage, cucumbers, and then I put the rice sheets in water to start
rolling them. Jim grabbed the ipad and filmed Glenn behind the helm,
me in the kitchen with my big knife and the calm sea we were surfing
on. I was about to serve lunch when we saw the big strike on the
fishing line. The captain yelled: we caught a fish! We all stared at
the end of the line in the deep ocean and sure a big mahi-mahi jumped
out of the water. Jim started pulling the line. But the boat was
going too fast to bring that fish in. Glenn held the line, I took the
camera, Jim went to get the gaff and got in the swim platform. Then
we waited for the fish to stop fighting and pulled him close enough
to gaff him and take good pictures.

He was a beautiful one. His fens were lid up in a bright blue and as I shut with the camera he  was just letting go, swimming in like a poppy pulled by the leash. He was there, the fisherman  on the back platform, under the davits with the dinghy on, not able to stand up or hold on very well; the whitefoam rushing from underneath the boat; the big gaff and its sharp tip
uncovered; the anxiety of the two men holding the lines. I kept on
shouting. The gaff went for it one time, the fish swung, he felt the
danger. Second time, he shook his tail tired. Third attempt he got a
second wing and started shaking his powerful body until he got off
the hook. For a moment, he stayed there unknowing he was free of
dying, at least that day. Then he looked at the gaff and disappeared
wagging his tail without a scratch. I almost saw him sticking his
tongue out of his mouth and singing: "nananananana!" 






He was the one that got away.

AnechyNotes