The luxuries of fishing
Luxury is a sedentary fish, He lives in ball-shaped packs, like bees, impossible on the seabed gravelly, eat a particular type of alga, a little blood, thin and sharp body, a strong taste of the sea and, its great quality of which, however, do not know what goes proud, no bone. Luxury is a sedentary fish, He lives in ball-shaped packs, like bees, impossible on the seabed gravelly, eat a particular type of alga, a little blood, thin and sharp body, a strong taste of the sea and, its great quality of which, however, do not know what goes proud, no bone. I would dare to say, although scientific mind does not know what evidence adduced, that as meat texture resembles the seahorse, the tapered: indeed, just because a little blood, if he is cast comes not rot, but dry, as the sea horse. To catch it is necessary to know the places where he lives: always the same from generation. Once on the vertical of the place, They identify the luxuries with the mirror In a backdrop of 10-15 meters, Then you throw the appropriate network, this "ruscetou": It is a trawler with the "death" (the terminal part) very long. He throws the "iron", ie an even four-pointed, It goes down the network with the flow and gives you the ride luxuries; then they scare the fish dropping a stone tied to the white nylon; moving up and down the nylon rope slams like a ghost that shake your white sheet; How come the luxuries are so afraid of ghosts do not know; I know that does not benefit at all: terrified, they stick it in the bag of death; if you are good and pulls up fast, There remain within all. And many of them might understand, to understand so that the fish, his whole body, that the ghost was but a harbinger. I remember the great fishing we did in September 1977: we had seen with the mirror a large school of fish, quickly threw their nets and asked; and much to our surprise, when we sailed, we saw that in addition to luxuries (more than 70 broken), we had captured an eighty Lecce who were chasing the luxuries and remained taken, let's say so, For error. An error, means, which does not spy us here for nothing. Unfortunately, just that time the Moon had forgotten, for one of those oversights on which Freud has enlightened us, loading supplies. It was past noon, we were off Deiva, hungry, hungry, thirsty and with no desire to wait a couple of hours to eat and drink. The decision was quickly taken, and not so painful: we head for the country and faster towards the Poleski trattoria; unloaded their catch and, After brief negotiations with the boss, there eat most, putting the rest on account of the wine that between cane hook without saving. A bit, you understand, there was sorry; but only a little. In reality, Smoking Rarely happy as on that occasion.
But we felt richer, because only the filthy rich can happen so throw a small fortune. Moreover we thought festively, no one lives not for the money, no? And then, to see things from another point of view, we were doing a colossal disco without pulling out a penny. What more do you want more from life?