I twist and turn as the afternoon wears on at work. Finally the bell rings and I rush home to go fishing.
I throw off my clothes and embark for the reef. The motor does not fail. Why have I such a deep distrust for outboards? I expect them not to start.
I anchor in deep water and set up my Sabiki rig. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sabiki
Up to now I have caught lots of small reef fish but tonight I am stalking bigger prey by fishing deeper. The sun is setting and the fish are hungry.
As soon as I lower the bait, there is a tremendous bite but after 45 seconds of skilful angling the huge fish rips the Sabiki untimely from the line. I am panting with excitement.
I re-rig and sure enough I get another bite. This time I manage to bring the fish to the boat.
I start again and there is a bite, a palpable bite, which of course in a very short time rips my hooks untimely from the line. I will have to beef up my gear.
Anyway, it gets dark and I speed back home as the full moon rises. Now is the time to anchor. It is a very high tide which I suspect has something to do with the full moon, or vice versa.
I am a very neurotic anchoring person. What if there is a squall during the night? What if the wind changes direction? Will the anchor drag? This means I place the anchor by hand by diving down with my long black Polynesian hair streaming behind me. I set the anchor to my satisfaction but realize that my specs, which had been around my neck, have disappeared into the dark, dark, East China Sea.
“My eyes are blind, I cannot see.
I have not brought my specs with me.”
This a drag as I do not really have an adequate replacement. So I go back to the house for my underwater flash light and spend a delightful 20 minutes searching the bottom of the bay for my specs. It is very dark and the sea bed is alive with creepy, crawly, crabby things. I have no real expectation of finding them but feel I have to try. It is made easier by the beautifully warm, clear water
Lo, what specs by yonder rock hold parliament with a congregation of crabs? Yep, I find them.
I finally get back at about 9:00 to find that the leg of lamb fairy has been to the house and left a huge gigot on my chair.
I cannot rest from travel: I will drink Life to the lees: all times I have enjoyed Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those That loved me, and alone; on shore, and when Through scudding drifts the rainy Hyades2 Vexed the dim sea: I am become a name; For always roaming with a hungry heart Much have I seen and known; cities of men And manners, climates, councils, governments, Myself not least, but honoured of them all; And drunk delight of battle with my peers, Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy3. I am a part of all that I have met; Yet all experience is an arch wherethrough Gleams that untravelled world, whose margin fades For ever and for ever when I move.