| The Fishermen |
The two old men spoke in a fisherman�s language, maybe Portuguese, or maybe Spanish, but I wasn�t sure. Each man would cast his line into the water in an underhand fashion, reel it in slowly and usually come back with nothing on the shining hook. They spoke. One of them smiled and the other laughed. As the sun burned off the early morning haze over the pacific, two women with quiet Spanish music swept the pier. The one old man with a green hat smiled at the women and moved his things so they could sweep. They swept his spot, he replaced his things and said thank you in Spanish, and the woman swept past him. The men again baited their hooks and cast into the green sea. They stood in silent fraternity with the sea, their rods propped under wooden planks. The one man with the green hat watches his line intently, not touching it, just watching his line and the sea. He reaches forward and grabs his rod, giving it a slight jerk, and reels in a small shining fish. He looks at it, grunts slightly, takes it off of the hook, and puts the fish in his bag to take home. He cast into the deep green sea again and quickly receives a bite on his line. He jerks the line and reels it in. It is the biggest fish I have seen him catch with all day. He grunts with approval and looks at how far the hook is down the fishes throat. He takes the fish over to his bag and gets out a pair of pliers. He inserts the pliers into the fishes mouth and I heard this awful ripping sound. I wince and close my eyes, trying to not let the sound get into my soul. The old man removes the pliers from the fishes mouth and taps off a piece of bloody white fish innards. He goes back into with the pliers again. He twists and turns them and the awful sound happens again. I wince this time with my eyes open, and he pulls the hook free. There are pieces of the fish on the hook, red and bloody, and he taps off all of those pieces of fish. He takes the fish and puts it into the bag, and baits his hook again. He washes his hands in the sink on the pier, dries his hands on a small white towel, and cast his line into the sea again. 6/4/01 11:23:20 PM |