My only regret so far has been the lack of fishing that I have done. I expected to be fishing all the time. I thought I would have nothing to do except lounge on the beach and stab fish with my knife while I sipped a mai tai. Well, there aren’t really any beaches on my island so that part of my fantasy is out of the picture. However, I was just enlightened to the paradoxical reasons behind the lack of beaches here on Fefan, which I will expound upon at another time. (Sidenote: As I am writing this, a soaking wet naked baby snuck up behind me and giggled as she stole my flashlight. I was lucky this time she wasn’t wielding a machete, which she often is)
I cannot control the condition of the beaches on my island, but the lack of fishing has been partly my fault. I have mentioned it numerous times to family and friends, but have not pushed it incessantly. Fishing over here is all about connections. You just have to know the right people at the right time. My main goal was to become a proficient spear-fisherman, but breaking the ice isn’t as easy as I expected. Spear fishing isn’t a constant activity as I expected and nobody has an extra spear to lend me. However, the main problem has been the “mechem”. Mechem is a series of large sticks that is placed around the reef as a funeral observance. When an important person dies, these sticks are planted around an area and it is proclaimed that there will be no fishing or swimming for an extended period of time. Well, some important guy who lives in Guam and hasn’t been here in years died a few weeks ago. As a result, we cannot enter the water for 3 months! No swimming, no fishing, no nothing. So needless to say, I haven’t gotten the chance to put on my snorkel and spear a fish through the head.
Since we cannot fish anywhere in the waters around the village, the alternative is to take the boat out and go to other places to fish. Fortunately, my family has a boat. It is the usual practice to fish at night. I have surmised that night fishing is popular for 3 reasons. Reason number 1: at night time the sun wont sizzle your skin like a burnt hot dog. Reason number 2: the fish like the dark. Reason number 3: there is nothing else to do at night.
As the full moon approached, my brother finally granted my request and organized a little fishing expedition for us that night. We took the underside of a large tuna and its intestines to use as bait. The fishing poles they use aren’t exactly fishing poles. In fact, they aren’t poles at all. The fishing line is just tied to piece of wood with notches in both ends. A small piece of metal is used as a sinker and the hooks are tied in the same style as in America. To cast the line, you swing the rope around like a lasso and let it fly. (To my chagrin, I was utterly terrible at this style of toss) To pull it in, you simply use your hands. The standard line is about 45 lb test, so it is thick enough that it doesn’t slice your hand as you try to pull in the fish.
We spent about 4 hours out on the boat fishing. I enjoyed the sport of it and caught a couple of decent sized fish, but I was more excited about the experience. We pulled our boat into the reflection of the moon on the water and anchored there to fish for a while. The full moon was like a lemon drop exploding with bright juices that splattered on the open ocean down below. It was an experience unlike anything I have felt before. The brightness of the moon was almost blinding and its rays formed a dazzling yellow brick road through the lagoon. The gigantic golden sphere shot a beam down to the water that started small in the distance but expanded to a river of flickering yellow ripples. I had never seen such an extensive reflection of the moon, and it was a breathtaking experience to be encapsulated in the expanding line of mustardy light that it exuded. Earth’s little satellite was putting on quite a show this night.
A couple weeks later, I got to go out another time on the boat to try a different type of fishing. This method is called bottom fishing. We used the same lines on the piece of small plywood, but this time we attached a 4 inch piece of rebar about a foot above the hook. We pulled away from the reefs and went into to the deeper parts of the lagoon away from the shoreline of the island. It was also necessary to bring a special anchor that would reach all the way to the bottom. We then plopped our chunks of rebar in the water and watched as they sunk quickly to the depths of the sea. When it hits the bottom, you stop the line there and await a bite. When you get a nibble, you must be sure to set the hook with force because you also have to yank the rebar off the seafloor before the hook will be engorged in the fishes mouth. This style of fishing takes slightly less skill than the other methods, but yields some of the biggest catch. Most of the fish are about 8-12 inches, but my brother caught one as big as an arm.
After both of these fishing excursions, we returned back to the house around 2am and feasted on fresh fish during Eopos. It is definitely a tradition that I can get used to. My brother asked if we have a name for the midnight meal in America, I thought for a second and then replied with a smirk, “we call it the munchies”.
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