Osprey
Ultra Nomad
Posts: 3694
Registered: 5-23-2004
Location: Baja Ca. Sur
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Christmas and fishing in the southland
What Eduardo Sees
Sometimes when I’m fishing with my Mexican pal, Eduardo, I watch him scanning the horizon and I wonder what he sees out there. Since he fishes for a
living he doesn’t see things my way. Take the boat for example. I see this little 22 foot boat with the 55 hp motor as a portal to adventures at
sea; a window I can step through to a wild, blue world full of danger and serenity, dinner fare and monsters. A place where I can pit my skills and
strength, endurance against big strong animals or out-maneuver quick, tricky flashers on light line.
I’m just guessing at what Eduardo sees (I can’t really walk a kilometer in his zapatas). I’ll guess the boat and motor look like tools in a box.
He’s thinking utile, are the tools in working condition? Would he change things to fit the job—will the tools do the job at sea he thinks will bring
the most promise or profit?
There are no boat ramps around here so we both have to keep our heads up to make sure we can safely launch from the sand and get back up on it
without swamping the boat. The motor is old, not hydraulic so it kicks up when the boat roars up the beach to get above the waves. If it were his
boat he would leave it on the beach, simply turn it around by hand, push it into the surf with a 4 wheel truck. Eduardo has no truck or car so his
fishing days would always be dependent on the other guy with the 4 by. He would need the truck to ferry fuel and fishing gear from his house to the
beach.
When we’re trolling, when we hook up, he sees a chance to earn a few dollars and his actions are quick and mechanical to get the fish into the boat
the fastest, safest way. I want to play the fish and care little about the end game so we stay quietly, respectfully at odds – we are good friends so
I like to think we both give a little in this exercise. When we keep some food fish I want to put them on ice soon as they are in the boat – he’s
more concerned that they are off the hook and out of the way so we can hurriedly resume the hunt, maybe catch some more in the area.
Sometimes I can almost look into his eyes and see part of the things that make us so different. He sometimes walks past my house in the evening on
his way to the beach. Many a time I’ve waved him onto my patio during c-cktail gatherings with my gringo neighbors but his good-natured refusal, his
smile and small gestures remind me of how he sees us – a gaggle of ugly, old gringos and their wives with their noses in the air all sipping fancy
drinks and talking about nothing. All of this at the wrong time of the day, for nothing; nothing more than old jokes, maybe three small drinks that
won’t make them drunk enough, returning to their big houses after an hour or two. Since his parties begin at midnight, are filled with loud music,
dancing, singing and passing out sometime near dawn, he sees us in very foolish pursuits.
Christmas is just a few days away. Two or three weather fronts from the Pacific have blown in during the last month or so and brought us the winter
winds we dread so much. Some of the fishing resorts are closed, not many clients in the others, much too rough for charters now. So Eduardo lingers
on the shore, biding his time with all the others. There are very few families who could lay a little something aside when the seas were calm and the
boats were full of jolly fishermen from the states; when the tips were rolling in with the big tuna and marlin. There will be few, if any, toys
beneath the tree this year, just enough food to go around until the wind abates. This is a very ordinary year for the village but I see it less
joyous; perhaps the big hurricanes this year caused damage way down deep, in places we cannot see – most Mexican families don’t know about The Grinch.
Thank God some of the little stores in the pueblo still offer credit, have faith in the people, in the future.
I suppose a few needy ones will show up at my gate. Maybe I’ll see things just like the store owners who know they will probably never be repaid but
do what they can out of good will. Some years I end up giving the fishermen my boat gas when the winds abate – time to fish but no credit at the
gasolinera. I usually get the plastic boat tanks back – sometimes with some gas in them. Eduardo shakes his head when he sees my foolish gifting. I
suppose he sees the rich gringo buying the friendship of people who give him no respect. That’s not the way I see it.
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SoCalAl
Nomad
Posts: 156
Registered: 6-8-2004
Location: Punta Banda, Ca
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Mood: Hungry
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Hello Mr Osprey,
Very nice story and very true indeed.. Funny how we go to a remote area of the world to get away from it all and then at the same time what we
view as priceless, has nothing but a price to some one else. I guess it depends on what shoes you are wearing.
God be with you and Eduardo who shines his sun equally and with yet another point of view.
Merry Christmas and a Happy new 2007 may you live to see many more days in the sea of Cortez...
SoCalAl,
Alex Licea:
Ahh Baja.... Where you can hear yourself think & commingling with the locals will humble you.
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Cypress
Elite Nomad
Posts: 7641
Registered: 3-12-2006
Location: on the bayou
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Mood: undecided
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Fine story Osprey! Merry Christmas to you and Eduardo.
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Diver
Ultra Nomad
Posts: 4729
Registered: 11-15-2004
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Great story !
Thank you for sharing.
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