Red bounces on the waters. A line sticks out reaching the deep. Seems like the vibration of the entire planet is working its way to that little floatie next to the pier. Making sure it moves it enough so the bait goes loose.
He has his own style. He looks left and right as he gages the others beside him. Each focused on the colors they sent to the water. Side by side they seperate by a basket on each side. One for the setup and the other is for the catch. They smile laugh tell jokes and share cigaretts. But one leaves victorious when the day ends.
They pride the length of their poles and discuss quality. They talk about the grip and hold. They nod their heads and share their stories to voyeurs and bystandards. Taking part of their days to entertain themselves with the ocean or find peace with others activities.
Seven of them seem to share the waters competing for the depths. Timing their casts to others retractions in order to challenge the good spots where the rocks create an opening for the fish to swim safely and find food. Such trickery amongst themselves. But if the whole sport was to trick the fish,what is to be expected from the behavior towards their own.
He removes his floatie from the water. Chasing it were the weights and the hooks. Damn,3 hooks and no fish. His face looked flustered but he would move his over sized pole in the air a bit. As if to blame the line being tangled by the breeze that seemed strong but failed to move even the smoke from his cigarett. Coughing he does, brings his pole to the ground and grabs his line. Pulling at it to adjust the distance between the weights and the floaties. A switch in strategy. He checks the waters and sees his neighbor capitalising on his spot. The thought of a fish coming where he failed to someone other than him strikes. A rush of adrenaline boils his blood. He looks at his neighbor and smiles. Removing the cigarett he says" careful the rocks". Nodding his head the neighbor smirks awkwardly and agrees, leading to a 2 minute distraction as he himself reassessed the bait on his hooks and changed them. It shakes it moves with excitement his neighbor reaches for his pole and pull...the floatie surges in the air.
Empty as if set with false intentions. The neighbor disappointed, takes to his hooks and starts reloading. With a grin of selfsatisfaction leaves him. his eyes avert his rival and target with full focus the spot he believes will make his day. Grace takes over a fluffy old man. As his gigantic pole effortlessly floats through his hand carrying with it the hope of victory. Spits out the weights followed by the bait and a smile that echoed among all the voyeurs. He hit the spot.
For the next minutes he has reclaimed his position. Avoiding other chatter,focused on the prize. A grin with some stories about his technique will surface. And everyone looks at the lines excited for the next one to fetch themselves some attention.
Every once in a while a floatie shakes and a man giggles in euphoria. As everyone is entertained you sit and wonder. How big a fish does one need to quench the hunger inside. And how big a fish can one catch with bread for a prize.
