Tag Archives: fishing

So… Here I am… back again… in a place where women carry baskets of food on their heads. Where the main talk of the men is fishing, and I can stroll down to the wharf any morning, and buy a fresh fish for two bucks. Where pelicans stretch their necks, and crash insanely into the ruffled waters of the cove… then perch on the gunwales of the anchored fishing boats, to dry their wings. Where the greasy smoke from broiling lobsters and shrimp, wafts through the streets at dusk. It’s Ernest Hemingway time… but he’s dead, and this is still here, if you search hard enough to find it. Continue reading →

black parrot squawks in a palm tree. It’s cool and the morning sun is still hidden behind the cliff. The high tide swishes and hisses in the cove next to the concrete pier in the small Pacific harbor. Weary fishermen goose their outboards and plow their boats high up onto the sand where local women rush toward the boat while it is still sliding up on the sand and swarm over it, grabbing fish off the floorboards. Mysteriously, I never see any money change hands, but I know these women will catch a ride on a truck nd sell the fish in the big Monday market in Pochutla.
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