SUPERTROPICMEN 1 – CANCUN REEFS - (Google english) – 6 minutes

(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