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 Holly Winter Living The Life Of Holly June 18, 2003 “How far are we going?” Darlin-man asked, scanning the horizon. I was wondering too. We had thought that Billy, Darlin-man’s Caymanian friend, was going to take us fishing on his boat. Um. No. He was taking us spear fishing which meant that we were going to swim out to the reef, and watch as he speared fish that happened by. “It is only about a quarter mile to swim out from here.” Ok. Wasn’t that a bit far to be swimming, just to catch a fish? I figured that we would be standing on shore, like that movie of the guy who gets marooned on the island. He stood on shore with his spear to catch fish. He didn’t even get wet. Here I had bought a nice sun hat for the occasion. But. Instead I had to slather on sunscreen and wear snorkeling equipment and float around way out in the ocean and wait for fish to swim by. Um. Wasn’t that a bit antiquated? “How strong a swimmer are you?” Billy asked. “I’m a strong swimmer.” I said. Hadn’t he mentioned a boat when he visited a few days ago? “I’m a good swimmer.” Darlin-man added. Billy put down his mask, and started swimming towards the reef, letting his spear gun lead the way. We swam behind him. It was a magnificent spot. I couldn’t believe that we had paid to take a snorkeling trip earlier that morning. This was as good, if not better. Billy was swimming slowly so that we could keep up, and I was glad for the slow pace. There was so much to see. It was as if the bottom of the ocean needed a good dusting. (kind of like my bookshelves back home.) As the tide moved, so did the dust on the bottom. (kind of like the dust on my bookshelves back home.) The collections of colorful corals were staggering to see, especially when there were little schools of colorful orange and yellow fish swimming through them. A large fish swam by and Billy silently followed it. I grabbed my plastic underwater camera and eagerly followed the action, unwilling to miss this rare fishing event. I wanted a photo of the fish going from water to spear. But. This fish was not going to be an easy catch. It mimed, “Nanny nanny boo boo” in fish language before it started the swim of its life towards a far corner of the ocean. Billy dove underwater and with a kick of his fins, both our guide and the fish were but a distant blur. No. My cheap camera didn’t have a telephoto lens. I know. So much for capturing the moment on film. I was already a complete failure at photographing fishing events. “Had to let him go.” Billy called back to us from the surface a few minutes later. “I don’t want to lose you guys out here.” Yeah. Not a bad idea. I hadn’t really thought about what it would be like floating around in the ocean without a guide. “Thanks.” I murmured. Yeah. My independence was gone. I liked the idea of sticking close to the guy with the spear. “Let’s go back to that big rock. There were lots of decent fish over there.” “Ok.” I said, disappointed. I wanted to see him catch a big fish. “You aren’t going to be able to see me catch a bigger fish; you’ll never be able to keep up with the chase.” “Right.” Darlin-man said. Guess that he didn’t want to get lost out there either. There were tons of little fish swimming around the rock. Billy dove under the water, swam up to a twelve inch fish, held his spear up close and pulled the trigger. The spear shot out and went through the fish easily. The fish wiggled a few times and then was still. Billy grabbed the spear, pulled him off, and stuffed the dead fish into his short’s pocket. I went back up to the surface and emptied the water out of my mask. I had a mask with a hole in it, and Darlin-man’s snorkel was letting water in through a sizable hole as well. I figure that it was a bonding experience for us, both wiping away excess water that shouldn’t have been there. (Luckily one of us hadn’t been gifted with both the defective snorkel and mask, as one of us would have been swimming around happily, and the other would have been doubly slammed with excess water where only air should have been. At least we both had something to whine about.) I watched as Billy dove under the water again. This time he hung totally upside down as he floated around and peered under rocks looking for more fish. Sure enough another medium sized fish floated out. He easily shot the fish with his spear, then came up for air where he added the fish to his pocket. “He’s putting the fish in his pocket.” I whispered to Darlin-man. “I know.” “I can’t believe that they don’t float away. I can’t believe that a shark doesn’t come for a free dinner.” “I know. I can’t believe that he can hang upside down like that. How does he do that? I want to learn that trick.” “I don’t know if it’s possible.” I felt like I was watching a live, interactive National Geographic special on spear fishing. Only it was real. And I was there. And I was choking on the salt water in my mask. Billy came up for more air. “Empty you mask.” He laughed. “You guys doing ok?” “Fine.” We sputtered. “I can’t believe that you put fish in your pockets.” I said. I mean. This guy is a real fisherman. And. He places his catch in his pockets. Have you ever met a fisherman who does that? “Yeah.” He laughed. “It isn’t safe. No other fishermen do that because if a shark comes, you can’t get rid of the fish fast enough. But I always figure that I could get the shark before he could get me.” “Right.” I said. So. He does have a pocket full of shark food. And that would make Billy shark bait… And Darlin-man and I would be dessert. “I want to catch a few more fish.” He said. “I want to be sure that you guys have something to cook up later. And. My cats like fresh fish for dinner. ” We laughed. “Your cats?” “Oh. I know. They’re spoiled. Every day I swim out here and catch their dinner. Then my mom cooks it up for them.” “You cook fish for your cats?” “Yeah, mon. I know. They’re spoiled.” Just then a medium sized fish swam by. Slowly, in one seamless move, Billy lowered his mask, adjusted his snorkel and followed. He speared the fish and slid it into his pocket. As I emptied the excess salt water out of my mask, again, I couldn’t help but think that the cats weren’t the only ones who were spoiled. I was feeling rather fortunate myself. And if anyone asks, I gonna say, spear fishing by snorkel. Well. It’s the only way to go. ------------ About the author: Holly Winter is a teacher and a writer and a flight attendant living in Denver, Colorado, USA. She can be reached at her website or email: Holly@livingthelifeofholly.com Comment on this column in the forum. ------------ |
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