Evening Fishing In Cuba
by Donald Jones
It is funny how our memories can stay with us. Some things you want to remember we will forget with time. Then, there are the vivid ones that you can almost count the specs on a bird feather or smell the aroma of a certain coffee that can make you lick your lips. One of those memories was when we lived in Cuba back in 1952 ,my dad would take us fishing, in the evenings, out to a certain cove at the edge of the bay water.
May dad and a some of his Navy buddies had strung a steel cable across the bay and anchored it on the bottom of the water across the bay. Then they built a oil drum raft with about 15 feet by 15 feet platform on top of the drums. A cable was attached to the raft and then to the cable they had put in across the bay. They tied another cable to a large tree. When they wanted to get out into deep water they simply gave out the cable and drifted across the bay till they found a spot where the fish were biting and then they tied off at that point.
While on these expeditions my dad would leave me and my brother on shore with mom and the wives of these daring to do husbands out in the bay. I think the men and the women like that separation of the sexes so that they could talk about the other. Dad used to say the women were going to have a hen session and the men were going to go fishing. The women were not interested in fishing because all the men did was talk about what someone did at work
On one of these expeditions, my brother and I were fishing with our small fishing poles along the banks. There was a spot I had settled on because I could see the bottom and the fish swimming by. There was a a hole I had found that a hermit crab had made his home for hiding. It saw me and ran into the hole and would peep out once in a while. Being a 6 year old this was nothing but pure fun. I had put a nice big chunk of cut bait on the hook which was almost as big as the crab and his shell. If that did not temp him and get him out of the hole nothing wood.
Now at age six I had not yet been exposed to much in the way of danger nor to the other things that larked in the sea.
The Sun had set and it had grown quite dark and the stars had come out. This spot that I had picked was good because it was located just to the side of where boats were put in the water. The Navy had put in a pole with a light shinning down over the ramp so you could see how to load and unload your boat. That is why I could continue to see the fish in the water. Now my dad would always say if you can see the fish they will not bite because they can see you. Will there is some truth to that old adage. But to a six year old it did not mean much. Nor does it mean much to a fish. They will do what ever they want when they want. This was also true about one very large 3 foot green Moray eel that just happened to have made that hole the crab went into, his home.
The large bait was a tempting morsel for the eel. His great big head poked out of the hole just long enough to grab the bait an run back in the hole. My fishing pole bent double and I was doing all I could to keep from being pulled into the water. My brother did not know what I had, only he wanted me to give him my pole so he could help. Sure he did. Not in your life was that little six year old going to give up such a moment to the older brother. By backing up from the shore I was able to pull the eel from his lair at which time my mother and others on shore realized what I had caught. The angry eel came out of the hole and made a dash for the dark waters that lay before it and I had seen enough of my dad fishing that I knew that if I wanted to catch this monster fish I could not let him get to far away or he would wind the line around a root or a rock and eventually break the line. I held tight and was getting panicky as I saw what I had caught. This was a Snake! I thought to my self. It could come out of the water and get me. Now I was getting scared and wished I had not refused my brothers offer who was now backing away from me and my moment.
By now, the mothers were screaming hysterically from the tops of their voices for the men to come to shore and help. This did not build up my confidence of the moment. They were behind me and safe away from the waters edge, what are they getting up set about?
“Hold on son I’ll be there in just a second. Don’t let him get to close” I could hear my dad shouting to encourage me from the raft as they were hurriedly trying to pull the large raft to shore.
My arms were getting sore and the eel kept opening it mouth like it was trying to suck in the line. It was getting winded from fighting and was edging closer to the shore. It was enormous in my six year old eyes. Three feet is not that large unless you are three and a half feet tall yourself, then it begins to take on a different point of view. Who had caught who? I thought to my self. Backing up from the shore with a firm hold on my rod I walked the beast right out of the water and dragged it on shore, while it was still a safe distance from me. The eel slithered and wiggled trying to get back to the water.
“Be careful son, don’t get to close to him” I heard my father warn me again, as he approached with something in his hand.
“You can let go of the line now son. You got him.” my dad said. He step in front of me and went to the edge of the water and I saw what he had. He swung the ax with a decisive blow and cut off the head of the eel, then proceeded to chop up the rest of his remains and tossed them into the bay.
Every one had calmed down and started back to there routine the men got more beer the ladies refilled there glasses as the evening began almost anew. This time I thought I will not fish near any holes. I cast my bait into deeper waters. Feeling proud of my self for being the center of excitement for a few moments was fun. I had no desire for a repeat performance. Just then I got a strike. I decided not to say anything and just started backing up till I could see what it was. Yep. Big brother had decided to annoy me with a challenge for a second bought. I walked back to the shore. My brother notices that my pole was bending.
“ I snagged it on something. Give me the line cutters” I said. With that he handed me the cutters from the tackle box and walked away. I reached out and snipped the line. Not this time, I thought to myself.