The Catch
By H
- 333 reads
A stretch of sandy beach separated the two pickup trucks. To the front of each was attached a sturdy rope and each rope secured one end of a large fishing net. The fishing net arced out into the sea, a broad 'n' punctuated in the middle by a white buoy some twenty metres from the shore. Beached nearby were two skiffs which had recently cast the net.
The pickup trucks reversed diagonally up the beach towards each other, dragging the entire net shoreward and drawing the two ends closer. TOYOTA and NISSAN read the tailboards in large dirty bold letters. Tyres span ruts into the sand as they pulled at the load, making slow smoky progress. All this time men shouted over the engines. They were old and young wearing a curious mix of clothing-traditional and modern: A Gazprom sponsored football shirt worn with a shemagh, pyjamas, a baseball cap, another shemagh worn full face-only the exposed leathery forearms betraying the fisherman's years.
Gulls plucked smaller fish from the trap while still too deep for the fishermen to tend their catch. A small crowd gathered at the water's edge; locals, visitors, blue overalled Indian workers-all seeing the opportunity to benefit from the labours of the fishermen-as were the gulls.
At last some of the fishermen, a few armed with gaffs, waded thigh deep into the now churning water. A large barracuda was lifted from the net and hurled ashore, next a small ray, then a larger mottled ray with a long black tail like leather cord. The rays beat their wings furiously on the sand-startling some of the onlookers who-like the net-had drawn close.
Instructions were shouted-at least twice. Other pickup trucks arrived carrying large ice boxes. These were soon loaded with the main haul of smaller fish and, all bar one, departed. The small crowd of people began drifting away contentedly, each with a handful or a small plastic bag of the less desirable fish which the fishermen seemed happy to distribute. The two beached skiffs were refloated.
The rays though remained at the water's edge-now barely moving-until eventually they were dragged by their tails back into the shallows and abandoned by the last two fishermen, who then departed in the remaining pickup truck.
Finally, all that remained were the deep ruts and a couple of small broken fish in the sand that nobody had wanted. And the rays in the shallows, upside down, half afloat, gills pumping furiously-but too late. Their imminent death would be for nothing.
- Log in to post comments
Comments
harvesting the sea with nets
harvesting the sea with nets such as this somehow feels like cheating.
- Log in to post comments
interesting description -
interesting description - welcome to ABCTales!
- Log in to post comments