(Supertropicmen
refers to a real group of people that visited some countries some years ago, having 25 / 30 years old.
Names are not real, but the histories are true. Still in contact).
Last night was normal in Cancun. We went out and we
stayed with the group of Sandy. I also had a fishing appointment with Uncle
Eduardo next morning. The common sense indicated no nightlife and go and sleep.
Go fishing meant getting up early, but the night has its own rules, and youth a
high degree of unconsciousness.
It was the second or third trip to México, it would
not be the last. We were very lucky to meet Sandy, her friends and family.
The blame for
this was “Giggi l’amoroso” (nickname since a trip in Yugoslavia, when still was
Yugoslavia), which in a nightclub in the hotel zone, was talking with a very
elegant and bronzed girls, with shining like you have basked in the day.
Drinks in Cancun
are little strong, I mean that alcohol drinks (combined) carry small amount of
alcohol. We are accustomed to stronger "burden". Perhaps for that
reason, one more or one less is not noticeable. And you have to do what the
group does and goes to bed when the group does.
In the morning I
could not put up right. I was wrong. Stomach dizziness. Mysteries of the body.
. .
I wasn’t ok, but
I couldn’t afford to miss a fishing day in Mexico. And even with a known and
familiar with local.
I had seen a picture
of Uncle Eduardo in a local newspaper, with the capture of a large shark in
Cancun lagoon (Cancun is a strip of land parallel to the coast for several
kilometers. For the inside there is a lagoon that covers the entire area).
Sandy had spoken
highly of his uncle.
We had arranged
a small marina that was on the side of the lagoon. Close to a major hotel where
M.Ed.had one of his businesses. A really nice place.
Two boats with
their respective gateways and a couple of small houses. One of them was to save
the fishing gears and the other one was where an Indian family was living
guarding the place.
They wore white
robes and had black, smooth and long hair.
Uncle Eduardo
was already with preparations. I told him I was not at 100%. As good fisherman
told me that we would be several hours at sea. It was a warning. . .
Frankly, I wasn’t
very sure. I was almost eager to vomit (stupid idea last night)
I was determined
to go and we would leave soon. First we were going to get bait.
We climbed to
the smaller boat. It was very flat and did not look very safe, but M.Ed. was the
specialist.
The discomfort,
along with sleep was present.
We leave at
first light of day. In 10 minutes, even within the lagoon, M.Ed. stopped at the
shore and threw a small network to sardine fishing, we would use for bait.
A boat, a day
ahead, clear water, a new day, the Caribbean Sea, a new experience and an
excellent companion. The man had what has the important people. That inner
energy and that domain he used to make me feel good (mentally, of course)
I knew it was
one of those special occasions (that you feel). Whether by chance as why it
could go right or wrong.
And even within
the lagoon I leaned out of the boat to take out dinner. No theater or hiding,
did not want to feel uncomfortable sr. Eduardo.
He drove to the
entrance of the lagoon, and thence to open sea, towards the reef about a mile
from the coast.
After dropping
anchor, mr.Ed. explained me how raised on the technique to us and what he
expected.
I was among the
excitement of departure, headache and dizziness.
Would fish with
the technique of kite. A good measure hooks, a fish from the lagoon each. I might
be careful not to cut on success.
Lowering the
lead with the bait to the bottom, would pass at most a few seconds, until you feel
the bites. If that stopped, was that they had eaten the bait and should repeat.
The sun was hot
and the Caribbean. . . The heat would be added to the other variables.
It was amazing
how easily the fish were biting and were taking out. Fishes from half to two
kilos, typical tropical reef species. The captain kept the fish in two
different places.
I asked for that
particularity and told me that a type of fish, a yellow one, would serve as
bait for fishing in the afternoon.
If those fish
would be used for bait, not imagined possible catches. . .
The hours passed
between fish and vomiting, between emotion and sleep, between vomiting and
headache. I was really exhausted, happy, confused, excited. I thought it would
be like taking a larger piece.
The yellow fish
bait, one meter of yarn and a large piece of cork. About twenty yards of yarn
to the boat, and at the soil of this, a simple coil.
Canes no needed.
There, pure nature, peace, water, heat.
Suddenly a thud
warned of an incident. The yarn that layed in the middle of the boat had shot
one meter upwards. Something had pulled the thread, and I kept going.
Adrenaline shot and my hands went alone to pick up the thread, with permission
of the captain.
The feeling of
an animal pulling the other side, submerged in the mysterious Caribbean water,
is very special and addictive.
I do not know
what the game lasted tug of war, but while it lasted, disappeared headache and
malaise. The fish relented and captain helped him get into the boat with the
harpoon.
I will always
remember that day.
We returned with
the satisfaction of well done work. In the same marina, Eduardo cleaned the
fish and put the rigging.
I went back to
the apartment knackered and happy. 12 hours ahead of bed.
There are
special moments in life. Thanks Mr.Eduardo, thanks Sandy.
JP
