A Story
When I left the house and went to the hotel door, I glanced at my watch; it was past eleven at night. I sent my friend a message with a whistle, just like back in our childhood years. He came out, as if he had been waiting behind the door, holding nothing but a small spotlight in his hands.
“What is that for?”
“A firefly, just to see a little bit.”
“Do you think we’re fishing in Patog? The boats here are equipped with all the necessary gear.”
“Even so!”
We walked with quick steps as if someone were chasing us. We stood in stark contrast to the tourists, whose movements were slow and their gazes unfocused, taking in everything that passed before them.
“Where is the boat?”
“I tied it up in Kakavo. Kakavo is a bay where it wouldn’t draw much attention.”
“We didn’t bring a single phone with us.”
“We don’t need them! Otherwise, they’ll drive us crazy calling every other minute.”
My friend Grigori cast his gaze into the depths of the sea. The moon had opened her beautiful eyes, let down her golden hair, and was combing it in the mirror of the water. The sea held its breath completely, so as not to ruin the beauty of her unwrinkled cheeks, as if she were a girl in full bloom. Meanwhile, we reached the boat. We climbed in, and it rocked gently, creating ripples on the surface of the water, like a person being tickled. I started the engine, spun the small steering wheel like a hoist, and turned it to face the open sea. The boat looked like a horse getting ready for a race. It raised its nose in the air and waited. I stepped on the gas, and it began to glide over the great belly of the sea. The noise echoed and faded away into the depths of the magnificent scene.
“Where are we going?”
“Wherever it takes us! Open the bottle of whiskey and the kernels. That’s what I call the shelled walnuts and almonds.”
After we filled our glasses, we looked back. The town was shrinking, and its noises were steadily fading away. The moon came down closer and joined our conversation. She floated in my friend’s glass. When Golja brought it to his lips, I saw that he was sipping the glow of her light too.
“I don’t see any nets or fishing rods!”
“Today we’re fishing with longlines. We’ve come out for big fish. That’s why we’re going far, very far away.”
“Where?”
“Do you see that star over there? The one that sits like a burning hope of love? Over there is an island called Millos, the Apples.”
“Are there apples?”
“It’s uninhabited.”
“In other words, we’re going to inhabit it, like Robinson Crusoes! You haven’t given up on adventures, even now after half a century of life!”
The island was about twenty-five miles away. We disappeared into the depths of the sea. Neither the island ahead nor the town was visible, except for a few distant lights that reminded you of stories read in your youth.
Our only companion was the moon. The further away we got, the more it felt like we were falling onto her chest. I turned off the engine for a moment to enjoy the peace. The silence, wrapped in dark blue, had opened its arms and swallowed us into its bosom. Far away, a star would break off, and after tracing its path on the great map of the water, it would fall somewhere deep, leaving behind only the impressions of its light.
“It’s a marvel, my friend! Out here you are away from the problems that strike the world. You did well to organize this night of fishing.”
I don’t know how long we stayed there enjoying this marvel of nature. We started the engine again and set off.
The boat left a white streak behind it, created by the laughter of the engine. Golja shone the spotlight. The color reflections became a fairy tale. White dominated, mixed with dozens of iridescent hues.
“Take your pen out of its sheath. Paint the beauty your eyes are seeing with the language of letters.”
My friend laughed, not taking his eyes off the colors, as if he wanted to store them away and use them when he needed them in future poems.
“Truly rare! It gives you emotions and impressions that stay in your memory.”
“Just a little more and we’re getting close. Do you see that black shadow far off over there, where the chest of the sea splits open and that great, sharp mountain pokes its head out, pointing its index finger at the moon? It’s a rugged rocky massif. In winter, it looks like a large ship battling the waves. It turns completely white in the midst of the fight. In spring, it wipes its brow with the silken towels of the clouds, while now in summer it stands solemn, as if it weren’t the one that fought a life-or-death struggle with the sea and its waves. Just like a man, fighting to survive and make a name for himself in the great ocean of life. Sometimes he is surrounded by friends and companions, but most of the time by the waves of envy and hatred.”
“They clash, my friend. This night is so magical that it’s a sin to mix that into our conversation.”
“You’re right, but it is the truth.”
“Look, look! The mountain is entirely dressed in the golden light of the moon. The stars look like roses falling on its shoulders. And the sea looks like a giant bed with a silken cover.”
I looked at my friend and felt pleased with his state of mind.
“Nature is the only kingdom created for man to enjoy. In Athens, only the concrete speaks, the asphalt, and the noise of cars howling and gasping from the violence inflicted upon them.”
Meanwhile, we approached the shore. The strong light of the boat’s spotlight falling on it revealed the shapes and carvings made by the master sea and the architect time.
“Now put down the whiskey!”
“Why?”
“Instead of your pen, take the spear and wait for the fairies to come out.”
Golja was looking at me in surprise.
I took the large basket where I had put the longlines. The longlines consist of a long hundred-meter line from which two hundred large hooks hang. I took the other basket where I had pieces of octopus, small fish, and prepared chunks of fish.
“What are these?”
“The longlines!”
“The other things?”
“The food for the longlines.”
“Are you out of your mind! A whole family could eat for a week with all this food.”
“While with the fish you catch with a longline, they can eat for three weeks.”
Grigori shook his head to show that he didn’t believe it.
Every longline we dropped into the water we baited with a fish, a piece of octopus, and so on. Eventually, the string of two hundred longlines fell into the water as the boat moved gently. When the last longline disappeared, Golja asked me:
“And now, what are we going to do, wait for the guests to arrive?”
“Like we said, we will wait and we will keep fishing.”
“With what? I’ve never heard of using hands for hooks or nets!”
“I like it! The sea has filled you with humor; the iodine and salt make the conversation tasty.”
“The bottle is finished too!”
“Take the spear and follow me. I’ll shine the spotlight into the water. Among the rocks you’ll see fish, octopuses. Whatever you see, you’ll strike it and plunge your spear into it.”
“Are you out of your mind? Do you think the sea creatures are stupid enough to wait for you?”
“My friend, the light of the spotlight is strong, it stuns them for a few moments. If you are fast, you plunge the spear; otherwise, they slip away...” I shone the light into the water. A multitude of colors and reflections dazzled the eyes.
“Don’t move it!”
“Why?”
“It’s so beautiful! This beauty takes you somewhere between dream and reality. Look at how the seaweed sways in the depths. It looks like the light breathing of a person who is asleep.”
I felt like laughing.
“Don’t laugh!”
“Look here, something is moving!” An octopus of about four kilos was opening its free arms like a ballet dancer on stage. It was crossing from one side of the rock to the other. “Do you see it?”
“I see it!”
“Throw the spear and plunge it into it!”
“Hold on, let’s watch it, it’s so beautiful.”
“Quickly, or it’ll slide over the face of the cave and disappear.”
Golja raised his weapon as if with hesitation and threw it. The sea turned a deep blue color.
“I hit it! Look, its blood is blue.”
“It’s not blood, it’s ink. It got away, you were too slow.”
A little later, everything cleared up. Golja lifted the spear.
“It releases the blue color whenever it sees danger. It helps it hide.”
Further on, a large lobster appeared. Under the light of the spotlight, its red shell scattered and was drawn like a short film across the caves and the crags of the deep. Its long, striped legs gave you the impression that someone had embroidered them by hand.
“A rare thing!”
“Strike it!”
Golja had put down the spear and was just watching:
“Leave it so we can watch and get our fill!”
“Today we came out to fill our stomachs, not to watch the documentary film, ‘In the Depths of the Sea World’.”
Golja didn’t speak. He had fixed his gaze on it. The lobster looked like a mountaineer climbing the mountains.
Further on, a crab with a gray saddle was approaching, also a large one.
“Strange, I’m at the sea every year, but I’ve never seen ones like this!”
“They don’t hang around on the beach with people. They don’t like their company. Out here it’s far. The sea still has no borders and they stroll around without a passport. They don’t need a Schengen visa.”
After taking a visual look around, we lay on our backs and looked at the sky. It too resembled the sea, deep with a multitude of colors. Dozens of stars looked like a large, scattered flock grazing, and the moon like a shepherdess watching over them.
“You hold the spotlight.”
“Why?”
“So I can strike with the spear.”
Golja shone it at the base of a cave hollowed out like a church bell.
An octopus had opened its arms and was resting. I didn’t wait; I threw the spear in its direction. Blue covered the depths.
“The ink...” Golja was laughing out loud. His chest heaved like a bellows, while the light of the spotlight shook, casting its beam without any specific direction.
I quickly lifted the spear. The octopus was pinned to it. Golja let out a cheer of joy, which rang out like sweet music into the depths of the sleeping waters.
“Don’t ruin the night’s sleep!”
“This night is ours, my friend!”
He pulled the octopus off the spear and left it in my hand. I started to smash it forcefully against the marble slab of the stern. This was for two reasons. First, to tenderize it, and second, to kill it.
“What are you doing, why are you smashing it?”
“I’m beating it so it’ll tell me where its friends are. I had heard this from the old fishermen.”
After we went ashore, we lit a small fire. We put the pieces on iron skewers and were roasting them. I stood up and headed for the boat.
“Where are you going?”
“To get the bottle of wine that Nduja sent us from Italy.”
“Did you really bring it with you?”
“No, I’m lying!”
“How did you know we would catch an octopus?”
“I didn’t know, but I knew we would catch something.”
Golja smiled.
When I returned, I smelled that the scent of roasting had taken over the shore. I filled the glasses and we clinked them. The chime sounded like a bird’s beak tapping on glass. The moon had crossed to the other side and was hiding far, very far away, leaving us only the charm of her beauty, like a beautiful girl slipping away from the gazes of her admirers.
The bottle was emptied quickly and our eyes were closing.
“Let’s go to the boat. Even if we catch some sleep, we need to be there. The weather could change and the currents might take it away.”
“Then Robinson won’t be left alone!”
We climbed in and untied the ropes so the boat would rock gently. At the same time, the longlines would rock to give the impression that the baits were alive. Between the sky and the sea, we were lulled into a light slumber, as if on angels’ wings. We were light, with no clothes on our bodies, like newborn birds. I don’t know how long I had been dozing when Golja spoke to me, touching me with his hand.
“Wake up! The boat is rocking. Make sure we don’t crash somewhere and fill with water.”
He was right, since we were sailing near the shores. Even though the depth dropped off like a knife edge, the danger was still present. I opened my eyes; the moon was nowhere to be seen, darkness prevailed, and there was only the starlight reflecting on the water.
The boat rocked again, as if someone had pulled it by hand. The pull came from the depths.
“We’ve caught something!” I went and pulled the thick fishing line. It would sometimes slacken and sometimes pull from the opposite side of the boat. The pull was jolting, like a ram trying to break free from its rope. “We’ve caught something and it’s heavy, I can feel it in my hand.”
“Stop joking! Not everything is going to happen tonight!”
“I’m not joking!”
My words were cut short by a strong pull. The line dug into the clefts of my fingers. I felt blood slide across my palm, but I didn’t let go. “I didn’t put the glove on, I cut my hand.”
“Let it go!”
“I can’t let it go! We don’t know how the longline has hooked it. We have to keep it taut at first until it hooks well.”
Golja came over to me. We made the movements together. We would sometimes pull the line taut and sometimes let it loose. After a few movements, the pulling would stop.
“Did it get away?” Golja had been thrown into a vast sea of emotions. “Why isn’t it moving?”
“When we pull and release it, it gets tired. It takes a deep breath and after a pause, it fights again. This goes on until it is well and truly exhausted, has no strength left, and surrenders itself to the current of fate.”
We both liked this game. Pull and let go and pull again. At first we were anxious, then we got used to it. I don’t know how long this situation lasted. Our sleep had vanished, and its place had been taken by the anxiety and thrill of the hunt. I cast my eyes into the distance. The sky to the east began to take on a violet and purple hue all at once. It would start to dawn soon.
“My friend, it’s dawning!”
Golja didn’t speak. He found it strange how quickly the night had passed, in whose arms we were living another life.
Meanwhile, the line was no longer swaying; it grew light. The sky was taking on shapes that changed every minute.
“Pull it, I think it got away.”
We were now looking at each other without a light. Far off in the depths, the color was deeper. I pulled the line carefully and rhythmically. In the distance, the mirror of the water began to break. When it got closer, we saw a fish ........... with a flat nose making no effort at all. We pulled it carefully next to the boat and couldn’t get enough of looking at it. The longline had hooked it on the lower lip. We lifted it up and threw it into the boat. It must have been 10 to 12 kilos. The sun appeared like a red-hot baking lid at the edge of the horizon.
“Let’s go, my friend Gole! That was the hunt for today.”
My friend didn’t speak. He looked sometimes at the sunrise, sometimes at the sea, and then at the fish lying in the boat.
We gathered the lines and the longlines and gave the motor some gas. Its noise, along with the white of the foam, left our memories behind too. When we approached the city, the first seagulls had woken up and were flying in the boundless expanse of the sky. Their cooing and chirping held the song of our emotions within it.
“Listen, Pilo! We are leaving the dream and returning to everyday life. That’s why dreams are so beautiful, because they are short.”
The bar owners were opening their windows. The city had woken up. We took the fish, our book of impressions, and set off for the hotel.
