by Clint de Leon
big boots and an extra pair of shorts I was all geared to go fishing
I decided to break the monotony, go out a little, no more twelve hour
day work with extreme tiredness the only payment. I recalled vaguely
a friend inviting me to go fishing and decided to give him a call to
know if the offer was still open. Me and the boys going fishing! What
a challenge for an old spoilt office misfit like myself! Miss fit it
was definitely to turn out that way.
i sought out to find my esteemed manhood wit' the boys, and
determined to return a man. As they say this saturday "we going and
fish'n' my first time going fish'n-ing this is going to be easy what
can ah lil fish do? This is going to be easy!
after walking through thick bushes and high (herbs) grass like hell
sorry hope I did not offend any one you know using h.... we finally
arrived where this so called river stood, l say, right! we reach I
ready tuh go, let we start de fishing now; I bursting with anxiety.
They said "wait", well after all they are the professionals wey does
go fish'n-ing every Saturday and come back wit zero. I noted that
these were not ordinary every day fishermen, these fellows have
scope; they have a plan, a strategy, a ritual for fishing, a culture,
a movement. They see it fit to attack fishing with an angle., or
maybe they just like to smoke before they fish.
by the time I know what was going on; dem fellas eye blood shot, they
head nice, they now ready to go. While the smoke was still
disappearing a man go watch me and calmly say "boy take off yuh
pants". Tha'is wen I know he was starting to get religious, he trying
to convert me wid this crusade in the bush and this eh have nottin to
do with fish'n-in, besides me eh see no river yet. My Trinidadian
linguistic ability kicked in and in a few short seconds I say wah I
stand for, then he say, "So yuh going in the river with you old pants
then?" You see, this is my first time fish"n" ing and I don't know if
yuh does change you old clothes before or after yuh done smoke.
the wind blew lightly and sifted its way through the high grass as if
it were trying to make a path, ushering falling leaves along the
ground as it crept making butterflies dance like colourful kites in
the whispering wind against a caribbean sky, while the water quietly
trickled downstream from pond to pond."THIS ,THIS is wey all yuh
bring me, in this dutty place this is not no river this is ah drain,
full ah mud.
OK...OK...OK ah done here aready, so fellas leh we mount up we
fish'n-ing rods. Is then them boy an dem go tell me we have to go in
the water, clothes and all, with a net and frighten fish into
the net. So yuh could see my position. Moi? Frighten fish into a net?
"Don't be ridiculous", I say "I came here and graced this
thretcherous place with my wonderful presence you are saying to me I
have to frighten fishes? I think not!" Of course, I did put up a bit
of a protest, well then ..what can I say, without exerting much
energy the first catch thirty nine fish! Thinking! Having second
thoughts about my youth and beauty dem fish glad tuh get out o' de
water them fish was lininin' up, volunteering to get ketch.
the hot evening sun shone brightly upon the shimmering water and man
was boiling in the heat wit thirst it was a killin. I find a old pan
and mount it up on a lil fire side, them fish tunnin into a lil
yabba, only then, to find out me eh gettin no fish. Well, fight start
right dey, ah mean, after I have them fish stiff in the water wit
fright a cyar geh one! Who are these people? Why are they messing
with me? Do they think that I'm doing this for fun? I dam serious!
When they fedup beat meh, them go tell me them is businessmen; them
fishing to sell to a man who does ship away them measly lil tata and
cuski to foreign aquariums. I say right! Better fete! MONEY! Ah mean
I now starting to understand this fishing-in-muddy-drain thing! We
ketch forty fish, papa! Thing nice.
".... So... ahm... how much all yuh does sell a fish for?....."
he had what would be an interesting face, in his eyes one could see
his subtle intelligence, and if not for the smell of fresh fish on
his wet draping clothes, he, at first glance can come across to you
as a scholar a born intellectual one of utter correctness. My
imagination ran wildly into and out of the bushes soaring through the
lonely desperate streets for a something to victimise to totally
possess to say it's mine, and my money will bring it, my fish money
with absolute auntrepauneership along with his normal casual grin,
trying not to show HIS anxiety, he calmly uttered "OOOAN DALLA!" if
we lucky, sometimes eez fifty cents.... ......... E STILL MISSING
TEETH.
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