Catch

For generations my family have been men of the sea. We crave the ocean waves, the open horizon, and the life of a fisherman. Never to be held on land for too long, my boat, The Lady Halibut, is my home. She is a beauty, fierce in storms, courageous in times of trouble, and ambitious in the catch. Everyday I would sail out into the sea, seagulls in toe, traversing the waves with ease. There is nothing quite like spotting the school, throwing the nets, and catching the mother load. But don’t think it’s that easy. There are days, even weeks, where you could spend 15 hours at sea and come back with bugger all. The life of a fisherman is one of hardship, luck, and prowess. No matter the size of the day’s catch, we fishermen are proud men. We fish because the ocean is in our blood. We fish because our fates are tied to the sea. The first signs of dawn are busting through the cloudy dark skies. I feel like this is going to be a propitious day. I throw the massive nets into the ocean. The assault of their impact causes the sea to slap me with a burly wave. The fight has begun. Throttling the boat forward I maneuver the nets towards the ominous mass under the surface. The choppy waves shield the fish from my grasp throwing my boat backwards. With a sudden sharp turn left I draw in my nets and scoop the unsuspecting fish from behind. The sea was unable to prevent their doom. I release the fish from the nets and they fall onto deck in their multitudes. Their squirming bodies helpless without the shelter of the sea. A particularly large fish catches my eye and I pick it up. Holding it before me, I enjoy the sight of its silver back glimmering in the early sunlight. A mighty fine fish. Its flickering tail whisks seawater onto my lips. I lick them to remove the salt. Still wiggling it suddenly thrusts itself out of my hands and into the air. I jump up and manage to catch it bringing its slimy form close to my chest. But within a second it slips again and slides down my yellow rubber overalls. Awkwardly, I try to grab its fluttering body. After a few minutes pass, my hands successfully emerge embracing the rebellious fish. Abruptly I hear, “Oi, you had sex with my wife!” Flabbergasted, I glance around to see who is speaking. “Down here you mongrel.” In shock I look down. “Cat got your tongue? Yeah you are looking at me. I am the one talking to you, the fish on the top right next to your foot.” I must be mad. Did I bang my head and didn’t realise? Am I delusional? I am hearing a fish talk to me I must be delusional. “You are still holding my wife! You have sex with her and you can’t let her go? Put her down next to me you pervert!” I do as I am told and gently place the fish down next to him. I rub my eyes and pinch myself in hope that this is just some sort of weird daydream. “So you think that by putting her down you ended this? Let’s settle this right now. Me and my brothers here against you, you creepy degenerate sex maniac.”

“I can’t believe a fish is talking to me!” The words finally blurt out of my mouth.

“Way to dodge the issue. Don’t think you can get out of this!”

“Look man, I didn’t have sex with your wife. She is slimy, she’s wiggly, she slipped down my pants! That’s all!”

“So it’s not enough that you have sex with her? Now you insult her?”

“Are you mad? I wouldn’t have sex with a fish.”

“You did it right in front of us. We are all witnesses of your beguiling behaviour. We all saw it.”

“Ok so let’s say I did have sex with your wife. You’re a fish out of water what are you going to do?”

“Don’t degrade me!”

With one swift movement I grab the angry fish and toss him overboard. I start the engine and sail towards home. All the way back, contemplating and worrying about this strange happening. God knows what happened but I am a man of the sea and nothing will change that. At least one thing is clear; the life of a fisherman is one of hardship, luck… and oddity.

Image Citation:

Afacan, Yavuz. Ocean Sunset. 2006. Photograph. Turkey.