Antios! (Spears, Sharks & Sleeping Snacks)

Antios means glasses in Spanish. However, the Chuukese have adopted the word from the Spanish missionaries and applied to fit more appropriately in their world. The language of Chuuk is infamous for doing this. Micronesia has been host to a flurry of colonizers and foreign influences over the centuries and each has left its mark. They borrow words from Spanish, German, Japanese, and English and butcher their pronunciations and give them odd definitions. Kinas instead of glass, which means mirror. Taaksee instead of taxi, which means car. Piiroom instead of broom, which means to sweep. I could go on an on with this examples, but the point is that this happens often in Chuukese. The funny thing is that most people don’t realize that they have borrowed these words from other languages and don’t believe me when I try to explain that they are foreign and slightly misused. Antios is a prime example of how things get lost in translation. It means dive mask and also spear fishing at night. This blog post is about the latter, my first experience of spear fishing at night.

I previously described how my dreams were finally realized by getting a taste of what its like to stab a fish in the head with a spear. I have come to the conclusion that spear fishing is the only way that fishing can actually be considered an athletic activity. Dropping a line in the water and reeling in a fat fish can be exhilarating, but few would argue that it is a true sport that requires extensive physical exertion. Spear fishing is quite different. Its exhausting! You swim for hours on end without breaks and are constantly testing your limits of diving to new depths. At the end of a spear fishing expedition; my feet, legs, arms, hands, fingers and body are aching.

Not only do I consider it to be the only form of athletic fishing, but its also gotta be the manliest way to fish. O wait, I lied. I have seen videos of rednecks catching giant catfish by sticking their arms in the swamp with a chunk of meat in their hand and having the humungous catfish chomp onto their forearm. That is by far the most hardcore badass way to catch a fish. But spear fishing is the next craziest. Its you against the fish. Man vs. nature with only the simplest of weapons. Catching fish with a line or a net is really a form of trickery and deception. With spear fishing, you stare the little innocent aquatic creature in the eyes as you kill him.

Our fishing restrictions were lifted a few weeks ago and I have been getting out on the ocean much more than before. This is good for two reasons: fishing is fun, and I get to eat a lot more fresh fish. I will elaborate more about the various fascinating methods of fishing in another blog. The Chuukese are quite clever with many of their techniques and their ideas deserve to be shared with all you folks…another time.

Antios is far different from spear fishing during the day. There is one aspect that makes it better and a few that make it worse. The foremost reason why antios is better than day fishing is that it’s a hell of a lot easier. It’s easier because many of the fish are sleeping. All you have to do is find the sleeping foes and roust them from their slumber with a metal shaft through their belly. You can literally point the end of your spear inches from the fish sometimes without it stirring. This aspect of sneaky timing solves the problem that I described before about how fish are amazingly fast and elusive. I have to admit that it’s a little unethical. It’s like stabbing a guy in the back or killing him while he’s in bed; but hey, it works. The movies have taught me that the best surprise attacks are always at night.

Although it is easier to pull in a big catch of fish during the nighttime, there are a few drawbacks. It can be kind of scary. One of the reasons is the darkness. It is really really dark. The only sight that you have is the beam of light streaming from your flashlight. If the light is off and you are underwater it is pitch black all around. On land, a flashlight sends light in a specific direction but it also spreads outwards and illuminates the surrounding area. Underwater, this spreading effect is greatly diminished. The flashlight is just a straight beam of yellow light.

You may be saying, “Johnny, don’t be such a baby, are you really afraid of the dark?” No, I am not afraid of the dark. I am afraid of what’s in the dark. Primarily sharks. I told myself and everyone else that sharks don’t scare me. I assured all the naysayers that a stinkin shark wouldn’t frighten me. I’ve dove with great white sharks in South Africa and lived to tell the tale.

Well, I recant some of boastful claims of fearlessness. Sharks can be damn scary. Especially when you don’t know they are swimming alongside you in their dark ocean realm. You can be wading along unknowingly until you flash your light to the left and see a vicious sea beast darting towards you.

In my first night expedition, I saw 4 sharks. They were all relatively small, but big enough to take a chunk of my leg or face. These cartilaginous carnivores are not instinctive man-eaters; on the other hand they are not known to be picky eaters. Their real objective is fish. Unfortunately, the method of spear fishing that we employ provides the most blaringly obvious shark target that you can imagine. When you catch a fish with your spear, you have to keep it with you as you continue fishing. We wear a thin wire belt called a “fot” that is used to carry the fish. You poke the sharp end of the wire through the fish’s eyeball and slide him onto your belt. These half-dead bleeding fish are thus securely attached closely around your waist.

Everybody knows that sharks like blood. In the water, we are swimming around with a bushel of bloody squirming fish that leave a smelly trail to attract the sharks. It is easy to imagine why sharks might be interested in us. It is also easy to imagine a shark attempting to grub a bloody fish but missing his mark and instead chomping a hunk of flesh from you hip. This does happen on occasion.

Although I never feared for my life when these sharks approached, I have to admit that my heart palpitations went through the roof and adrenaline pulsed through my veins. I would try to keep extra close to my fishing partners each time that I spotted a shark. I figured that they might know how to handle one if he really did make an attack. After watching their tactics, I noticed that sharks are attracted to the light. So the best method to get them off your trail is to shine your light in their face at first and then direct it somewhere in an opposite direction. The shark will often follow the direction of the light.

Darkness can be scary for another reason as well. It’s easy to get lost in the dark. As I mentioned before, without a light it is pitch black in the water. The only things I see are my own light and the beams of light from my fellow divers. Sometimes we would get distracted searching for fish and wander away from each other. When this would happen, I would come to surface and search around for a faint glowing spot in the dark abyss. I could usually find this relatively easily and then swim towards the light. However, one time I came to the surface and saw nothing.

Clouds had covered the sky and rain was drizzling down. It was black below the water, and black above the water. I couldn’t see land, I couldn’t see our boat, and most importantly I couldn’t see a light. Ominous thoughts of being lost at sea or drowned by a giant squid came creeping into my mind. I treaded water in the eerie coal- black night and frantically searched for a glimmer of light in the vast expanse of darkness. After a few minutes of worrying, I spied a flicker of white through the sheet of descending moisture. It was far away and at first I thought it was too distant to actually be the other fisherman; but I hoped for the best and sped my way towards the beacon. As I approached, the light became clear and I saw that my partners were making signals with their flashlights. I caught up with the group and vowed to never let myself get separated again.

The final challenge of spear fishing that I was faced with was the depth. I am a decent swimmer, but by no means am I above amateur status. The deepest that I have ever dove is to the bottom of 10-foot swimming pools (besides scuba diving). My lung capacity is worse than it should be and I have no special skills at holding my breath. However, spear fishing took me to the limit—props to Sports Chalet slogan (Ironically, I actually bought all my diving equipment at Sports Chalet).

In my first night of spear fishing, I dove to depths that I never thought possible and held my breath to the point that I thought I would explode. I was intent on doing my best to keep up with the locals and prove to them that I was worthy of be taken along on their spear fishing outings. I prefer to fish on the shallower parts of the reef where I only have to descend 5-10 feet. But the big fish are in the depths, so its necessary to get down to snag the real prizes.  If I couldn’t get down to the level of the fish, I was a worthless spear fisherman. I have no precise measurements of how deep I actually dove, but I know it was in the range of about 20-25 feet. I popped my ears several times and stayed down as long as my body would physically allow. The locals would dive to this depth and spend twenty seconds swimming around on the ocean floor perusing for fish. There is no way that I could have done that. My lungs are not ready. However, I have heard that diving depth and lung capacity can increase rapidly with repeated practice. I know of individuals that claim to free-dive down to 100 ft.

It is true that it’s much easier to catch fish at night. I caught about a dozen on my first night. My subsequent outings have been a little bit less successful, but also sharkless. I hope to continue my spear fishing ventures and hone my skills to become a respectable diver. I will do my best to find my way to the water and take advantage of this delightful aquatic ecosystem. The reef is amazingly beautiful and the fish are bountiful, I expect to spend plenty of time splashing around in my pristine underwater paradise.