Fishing in Trinidad


A few years ago, we were invited to visit the exotic island of Trinidad.

My host was a former college colleague who opened his doors to us.  He knew that I had a passionate desire to go fishing.  When he made the suggestion to me, I jumped at it before he had time to withdraw the offer.  Of course, he was not a fisherman himself, so he contacted one of his cousins who had just as intense a passion for fishing as I did.  I guess that you will find one or more in every country.

I was informed that Jimmie was to pick me up at five in the early hours of the morning.  I was to wait  outside our building and that I was to be out there at the appointed time or else I would literally miss the boat.  True to form, at five on the button, the car screeched to a halt.  A door flung open to accommodate me and off the car sped away.  I had no idea what the haste was so I put it down to Trinidadian impatience.  A bottle of rum was circulated as a substitute for breakfast and each of us took in a healthy swig out of it.  Before long I seemed to be the only one with a smile on my face.   There were five of us in the car and after quick introductions, a palpable silence pervaded the car as though something sinister was about to happen.  You could not help feeling that each person perhaps knew his role in this expedition. I was left out in the cold obviously with no role to play.

The car picked up speed and this heightened my many apprehensions about our safety on these narrow,  winding Trinidadian roads.  After half an hour of much anxiety on my part, the car leaped onto a beach and continued to drive in the opposite direction for a further five tense minutes.   The tide was out, and the beach on which the car rode was packed tight as though it had been recently watered.  The sun was just beginning to rise.

Once again the car came to an abrupt stop.  Everybody jumped out of the tired car and made for the trunk which was promptly opened.  Out came a rolled up net and two long poles.  One enthusiast pulled out what seemed to be a bunch of large bags.  The gang proceeded to run towards to ocean that had receded from the shore some seventy-five meters or so.  Once they got to the gentle waves, the net was spread on the beach and the poles were fastened to support the two ends.  The net was then drawn into the ocean to a depth of no more than two feet and dragged along the bottom.  Once the net had scraped some twenty feet, it was quickly brought out and there were some fifty or so large tiger prawns (shrimps) which were promptly emptied out into waiting bags.  The net was then lowered into the ocean once again and dragged for another twenty feet.  Each time the net was raised it would seem that there were larger numbers of prawns in the net.  After repeating the process about ten times, the order was given by the time keeper to wrap up the net and start making for the car. With army discipline, the net was rolled up promptly and everybody took off for the car.  Time was of the essence it would seem, and I could not guess why!!!

Once in the car the driver made for the entrance to the road from whence we came.  When we just about reached the entrance it was clear to see why the whole operation had to be timed.  The ocean waves were just about lapping the wheels of the car. High tide had caught up with us.   I thought that this was cutting it thin, but these fishermen were full of laughter at conquering nature. 

Another bottle of rum was promptly opened and passed around amidst joyous conversation as to how they were going to cook their catch of the day.

The experience that I had with this kind of strategic fishing, however, will remain in my memory for it was not only richly productive but extremely original, innovative and in hindsight, very dramatic and exciting.

I guess that there are two ways of living, one is
DANGEROUSLY.

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Comments:-

From Mervyn Lobo.

Folks,
I am not so sure about the above as when I am on vacation, I like go to bed at 5.00 am.

Secondly, the best prawns are not found on the beaches of Trinidad. Everybody knows that the best prawns are to be found at Mable's place.

Lastly, while living dangerously has its enticement, as the years go by, I feel more and more drawn to living comfortably. Let someone else wake up at 5.00 am,
make a run to the beach and have the excitement. My job, on vacation, is to trade in something for those fresh prawns and enjoy.


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Hello Aspi:
Many thanks for your encouraging remarks. I appreciate them. I do believe that
what most enthusiasts like about my stories is their honesty. Now read "From
landed immigrant to retirement.
George

From: "aspidastur@..." <aspidastur@..

Your fishing experiences in Trinidad reminded me of the method of fishing employed by some fishermen in Zanzibar. They would cast a huge net in an inverted U form, and then two teams on shore, one at each end, would pull the net in loaded with fish. The fish were then loaded in baskets and taken to market. Often times if we noticed them fishing near our house, we would intercept them and buy some of the fish. You could not get any fresher fish. In fact, some Bohris, who only ate fish they had seen alive, would often be seen patrolling the shore for fish to buy. Interestingly, what is considered fresh fish in this country is fish that is put on ice on fishing boats. Imagine.






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