After spear fishing, we would usually chum the water and entice the sharks to the clear waters beneath the farm. The boys would gut the fish and throw it all into the water. Once the sharks circled below us, we would tie a fish head to the end of a line and drop it in the water, only to tease the sharks by pulling it back up and making them leap out to chomp on their snack. Very similar to playing with Puma the cat.
When spear fishing you have to shoot the fish and it becomes a race against the sharks. The sharks see an easy meal and you have to grab the fish and hoist it out of the water before the sharks get to it. It sounds terrifying and I have personally never done it. Next time I’m there, or somewhere like there, I am going to learn how to spear fish. It sounds awesome.
The second time everyone came back from the pass after spearfishing they had hauled in a barracuda. As they were gutting it Hearii pulled out a pulpy, bloody red thing, said something in French to someone else, and popped it into his mouth. After gagging and asking what that was, I found it was the barracuda’s heart. It’s raw, almost still beating heart. I gagged some more. Oh life on the sea.
Per usual, we passed our time in the remaining rays of sun baiting the sharks with the barracuda’s head. He handed me the rope and I got to play with the 5 sharks that still remained, hoping with all my heart that I was not going to be yanked into the water by a strong tug of the shark’s jaws as I baited them like cats-pulling the string of guts up as the sharks jumped and snapped at it.
Just another night on the farm.