Tuesday, June 4, 2013

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