Tale of Dashes Great Adventure

I am not a fisherman. Therefore everything I tell you is in fact true. I recently had the great honour and pleasure to be invited aboard one of Negrils finest fishing vessels. I will not name her or the owner but it was not Rondel! On the day, I woke early without the alarm, and with flashlight, dressed appropriately. Old shirt, shorts and barefooted. I took a swig of beach orange juice and left, easing closed the door, so as to not wake the wife. The Treehouse walkways were damp and the motion lights announced my progress. Reaching the beach I did not have to make my daily decision on which direction to go. I knew! Left.. To SunBeach. The stars were brilliant without a citylight wash. The sky showed no hint of sun. As I passed each of the darkened sections of beach I imagined all of Negrils band of criminals lurking in the bushes ready to pounce. Where was Fredstripe when I needed him? For reasons unknown, they left me in peace and I arrived at SunBeach unscathed. But I was not alone.
(To be continued)

You are such a devil! I'm gonna go pop some popcorn! This gonna be great!

I heard the scritch-scritch of a rake upon concrete. A light flashed and lit up a face in the distance. A cough announced my early morning companion. He spoke local. I pretended to understand. "Yah mon" I said, not knowing what I had agreed to. He approached and passed his product to me and I pretended to inhale. He leaned on his rake and asked what I was doing. I told him of my intentions and he nodded through blue smoke towards a shape in the darkness. " Dats your guy" he said. My captain.

Sometimes I think too much. I had an image of a tall lanky grey bearded sailor with weathered skin and a squint from looking at too many horizons. A guy with stories to tell of wind whipped relays round the Cape and frantic escapes from Somalian pirates. I wanted my Skipper to be like CaptainD! I was somewhat disappointed. My guy wore a torn Nike muscle shirt and shorts with flip flops. He had, however, been fishing these waters all his life. He said he could swim if he had to. That's a bonus!

go on Dash....

dash, if you start this, i'm counting on you to finish it. great start!
please continue

More please:p

Oh yay, a new adventure. <settles in for a good story>

MyCaptain carried a container of gas with a coil of rope on his shoulder and dragged a well worn sack. I offered to share his load and he let go of the sack. It was filled with today's bait. loaves of hardened bread, fruit rinds and pieces of coconut were on the menu for our fishies today!
The deep darkness was leaving and a soupy grey allowed the eyes to distinguish shapes and movements. The beach, which I thought empty, was actually filled with activity. Security guards were waking up to end their shift. Hotel workers were shuffling off to their jobs. The scritch scritch of sand groomers could be heard with the occasional clap of lounging chairs being unstacked . A familiar sweet incense perfumed the air even at this hour. Aw well, it's five o'clock somewhere.

MyCaptain barked an order and I realized it wasn't for me. From behind a wall a security guard dragged a kayak towards us. He had done this before. The hotel doesn't know. I think he'll eat fish tonight. MyCaptain kicked off his flip flops and entered the calm morning water. Settling onto the kayak he pushed off to fetch his boat. He slowly paddled out. She was patiently waiting for him. I could see her lines in the water. Low and sleek she looked like she was big enough to carry a July boardie bash contingent and still hold her head above water. Fishing must pay well in Negril.

Wait..what??? He paddled past the beauty. Where was he..? oh ****...the vessel that will carry us through this story lay twenty metres further out. When he had pointed out his boat days earlier, my gaze didn't follow his aim, and I had focused on the wrong boat. This may not be as I had hoped.

oh oh

"Security guards were waking up to end their shift."

:p. Enjoying this!

I am not a man who needs luxury. I only need the basics of life. This boat did not provide the basics. After wrestling with the little motor for ten minutes MyCaptain presented his boat on the beach. It had splotches of blue paint and weathered bare wood rotting in the salted air. It gave me no confidence. If it had stories to tell I didn't want to hear them. OK I may be exaggerating but I was terribly disappointed. I loaded on the gear and fishie food and climbed aboard.
As I noted earlier, I am not a fisherman. In fact I am not a boat kind of guy. I had originally arranged this trip for a fellow boardie who was probably now tucked into bed enjoying an herbal dream. I promised that if I survived this voyage I would beat him silly with a conch. Survival. I looked around at the safety features of this vessel. First..Where were the life jackets? Silly question. Without life jackets I looked for anything that would float. I saw two plastic bottles but only one had a cap. I think I would have to fight the Captain for this one. Being Canadian I didn't protest even though it could have cost me my life. I wonder if a lot of Canadians die of politeness.

We sputtered away from shore as the sweet light of twilight called for the early joggers and shooed the night owls away. Looking back to shore every shape was etched in the shadowless light. The night fishermen had extinguished their high beams and were heading for the river. The compressor divers were heading out for another hunt and this valiant crew in our questionable tub were in search of fishies and adventure.
There were few store bought items amongst the gear on this expedition. Jamaicans are masters of recycling. From the soda bottle floats to the halved concrete block anchor, they make do with what they have. A braided piece of re-bar became a grappling hook. A hand carved piece of 2x4 became the emergency paddle. An empty ice cream container was for baling the great amounts of water that seeped into the boat. There was not one length of rope or line that did not have a least one repair or splice. The boat just cracked. MyCaptain pretended it didn't. If I had any God in me, I would pray..now.

This is sounding like a great story. SO - get on with it (please) another polite Canadian here - LOL

Then I saw the sign. Behind MyCaptain, past the beach and over the Morass, atop the mountains I saw something that I had never seen before and I think few boardies have witnessed. The sun in all her glory was peeking over Negril. I have become jaded with her nightly disappearing act and have hundreds of pictures of her sinking into the ocean that I will never look at. But she came back and with her knock me out make-up on, she had me again. Her blush of rouge and creamy orange left me breathless. Sunrise Negril. Not a new Kahuna novel but the real deal. I had put her to bed the night before and she woke up more beautiful then ever. This was going to be a great day.

My you are eloquent my Dear Mr. Dash! I must admit you were very adventurous in this undertaking - wish you had not forgotten the camera - however who needs one when the tale is told like this:)

MyCaptain passed me a javel bottle wound with thick line. At the end of the line were lures heavy with hooks. I let out the line and noticed dozens of splices. We trolled for a while parallel to another boat. The two captains were having a conversation over a hundred metre distance and the noise of the belching outboard motors. I don't know how they understood each other. Does patois carry over distances? The other boat pulled in a couple of fish and we headed off to check the traps. Passing us on the way was a AI boat with all the finest gear and I saw their noses raise five degrees as we met. I told myself that I was experiencing the real Negril and who wants Bloody Mary's when you are fishing anyway. The sun was warming as I found a second container to bail out the increasing flow of water. The cracking continued as we neared the first marker and cage. We rolled in the AI boat's wake.

oh my!
loving this tale...
i admit, i would be sleeping peacefully through the lovely sunrise.
good on you for taking on this adventure.

So, now you are bailing with both hands? That's not fishing :). That's keeping the boat afloat, I think! Good story, keep going :)

I'm loving this. The bailing is all part of the "Jamaican experience".

I remember using a piece of wood to keep the freezer compartment in the fridge closed among other things - LOL

If I were to look toward the sky I could point out the clouds, birds, planes and of course the sun. Looking down from the boat I saw the ocean surface with its ripples and waves. MyCaptain looked down in anger. "Those goddamn dolphins"he cried! "They upset the cage!" I had no clue what he was talking about. But he saw things below the surface that escaped my gaze. We quickly started to hoist the cage. I still saw nothing. As my arms began to burn I spied my first glimpse of the cage. It was made of sticks and chicken wire about four feet by three feet. The design attracted any fish or crustacean into a tunnel of wire that proved to be a one way journey. Inside, they would have their last meal and try to find a way out. Baseball sized dents showed on this cage and MyCaptain again cursed those dolphins. Inside the cage were half eaten fish and a couple of live lobsters. He explained the techniques of those thieving mammals. They would first upset the cage hoping they could break it open. If not, one would approach one side and sonically bombard the fish so they scooted to the far edge of the cage where the others would pick at tails and fins sticking out of the cage. If by chance their favourite dish of octopus was inside they would forget about the chance of injury and bite the chicken wire to gain access to the tasty treat. This cage was broken open but not enough to give a dolphin access. There was no octopus in this cage apparently. We hoisted it aboard and extracted the lobsters. There was one big one and I was surprised that MyCaptain returned her to the cage. "She's making babies." So for all our efforts we reaped one average size lobster. Tough gig! We repaired the cage and restocked it with bread and fruit and left the half eaten fishie parts. We slid the cage into the sea and MyCaptain guided it to the bottom. He took his "spy glass", a wooden box with a glass bottom and ensured the cage was placed properly. He put away the box and steered us towards the next cage. A flying fish hummed beside us. So cool!

loving this!!!

Sweet!

The next cage proved more bountiful. Little Parrot fish and slightly larger yellowfin were wriggling in the cage bouncing off a bewildered Pufferfish. Only the Puffer would return to the sea. I was surprised and disappointed at the harvest of the smaller fish. I said nothing. I was only a passenger. I get my fish from the frozen section, courtesy of the Chinese. I prodded the Puffer back to the water with a stick and he wiggled away. The captured, were thrown into a plastic milk crate to dance till their deaths. Occasionally one would flip out into the oily water on the boat bottom. I stopped my bailing and threw him back into the crate, his hope of freedom quashed. We rebaited the cage and set it on the sea floor. MyCaptain squinted towards his next investment and we continued our harvest. He would show me how to use the ocean current to assist in the hoisting of the cages. It was a little slower but so much easier. My back hurt and my legs were sore from the work on imbalanced feet. Every so often I would need my arms to keep from falling. I had hoped MyCaptain hadn't seen that, but he had. I saw the smirk. I don't think that he would hire me but I hoped he enjoyed my company.
He didn't volunteer a lot of information without being asked but I'm the kind of guy who asks. I realized that this was only one of his many professions. His days were full and his family filled the spaces in between. He slept about four hours a day if you didn't count the naps. He said he was blessed and thankful and if God would do something about those damned dolphins he would have nothing to complain about.

Dash....Love the report.....love your attitude.....love your sense of humor. Id love to hang out sometime......

But for gods sake man use a paragraph once in a while. Reading that huge block of words is going to make me go blind!!!

Seriously.....dig your stuff man. :cool:

Suggestion Dash, I have plenty of life vests you could have borrowed. We don't want any polite Canadians lost at sea.
Gail

Great story telling. Loved this line. "I wonder if a lot of Canadians die of politeness." hahahaa oh sorry, please continue

Loving this, yes paragraphs please

Paragraphs,no paragraphs.... I'm just enjoying it either way. More please

The next trap was loaded with treasure. Big eyed snappers shared the enclosure with lobsters and a butterfish. The butterfish would end up on MyCaptains table tonight. For the first time I met the scourge of the reefs, the lion fish. Not as pretty in person, he had a huge belly. MyCaptain said that if we slit it's belly we would find another fish. Nice! They have quite the appetite. Into the crate with the others!
There were a few lively small fish that MyCaptain put into one of my bailing containers. He added some water and placed it near his feet. Standing, he called to a passing boat, which changed course to meet up with us. He passed over the container with the mini fishies and the boat broke off. I thought to myself that perhaps a bigger fish would have been more generous. He read my mind and explained the fish weren't for eating but would serve as live bait to seduce barracudas. I was learning.
I was getting my sea legs and was almost comfortable. I was however back to the one bailing scoop. The rising water in the boat would be needed for our next visitor.

yay!!!Loving this story....

The next cage was our last. I was spent. The hoisting of traps and the constant bailing had caught up with me. The sun was now turning to broil, and I hadn't had a drink of anything since leaving Treehouse. I left the crane work to MyCaptain. He sensed something different in the drag of the rising cage and tied off the line. With his spyglass he peered into the water and cursed. "Shark in the cage " he said unimpressed. WHAT???!!! "There's a shark in the cage, we gotta get it out" WHAT????!!!! I had forgotten the cage was only three feet by four. In hindsight I should have realized that this was not "Jaws". But it was a shark none the less. We both raised the trap together and when it broke the surface I hid behind MyCaptains courage. He slid the trap across the boat and our shark tested the integrity of the wire. He shook and writhed in defiance. After a short while, our prize lay silent, his gills emitting low grunts that earned my sympathy. I could just see the silly tourists surrounding our boat on the beach as we unloaded this trophy of a fish.
MyCaptain told me to undo the mesh on the sides so the shark could slide out. I started to comply until I realized that he would slide out, slide out to my feet! I imagined him taking a revengeful chunk of my leg with him. But I think the broiling sun had taken its toll on our shark as well. I raised my feet to the bench seat and our little killer plopped into the pool of water accumulating on the floor. He was still, but alive. MyCaptain mended the holes in the cage and together we slid it back to the sea. He then said he would release our captive, but away from his traps.
I then spotted them. The glass bottom boat had released its snorkellers a couple of hundred meters away.
I begged him, pleaded with him. I wanted to release our friend close to those snorkellers. With a great presentation I imagined dropping Jaws into the water in full view of the tourists. What fun!!! He didn't share my enthusiasm. At all. We puttered off a good distance and with the two by four paddle and thick sticks we levered Sharky back to the sea. He disappeared in a flash.

With our work day done I allowed myself a moment to relax. I took off my thick protective gloves and leaned back and took it all in. I looked to shore and panned from the cliff point to the river, along the beach that I had walked so many times and claimed as my own. Past Rooms where I knew Jamaica Rob would be starting his sentinel duties at the wall greeting newbies and hugging old friends. I could make out the colour of terra cotta, from Charela, until the familiar blue of Treehouse, where I was sure my wife was enjoying her breakfast without me. Was she looking out to sea, thinking of her warrior on the waves? Or was she contemplating her omelet choices. The latter I'm sure. Gail would have beached her ride after hosting another paddle board expedition. The manicured beaches of the All inclusives led to the point and Boobie Cay. An impressive panorama of both nature and people.

Great writing! Love it!

Awesome job Dash,please continue!

More more!

:)

Very nice indeed :)