Fisherman Morning 12/20/2013 ON THE WAY TO FAVIOS

ON THE WAY TO FAVIOS

 

 

 

 

 

 

As wonderful as all of this is, I am ready to head back home now.  I'm not anxious, but I need some variety.  I have learned that I could not live on a boat.  It always seemed like a fine adventure, but it would be too close quarters for me.  I get a bit of feeling too tightly enclosed.

We have avoided the bronchitis and the cold that is being passed around.  So far, so good.  Of course, with my immune system firing at overload levels, it is unlikely that any bug stands a chance with me. 

I hope that works for the cancer as well.  I am eating meat here, some of it red. Certainly the chorizo from Spain that I am snacking on is unhealthy food for many reasons. 

The fellow from Kansas saw me having a bite of sweetbread and expresso in the lounge and felt he needed to remark. “Feeding your face again, are you?” Some people just are driven to be incredibly rude.  If this fellow knew that probably I have a bite of such sweet bread three times a year, he might not just judge me on my weight.

He is very particular about food here and his meal of choice is the always offered sirloin steak.  I'd like to sit him down with the China Study and explain to him that such red meat in excess will most likely kill him. 

Well, you can see it is not all light and friendly here.  At times it reminds me of Mark Twain's boating adventures on going abroad.  Of course, he is more dry and sarcastic than I would ever be.  Few of my criticisms of my fellow passengers will find their way into this blog.  But this one lets me vent a bit.

After docking, I went out and watched the local fishermen fish for these small fish, the size of the smaller bluegills with tiny hooks rigged with some natural bail and floated about 4 feet below the surface using pencil thin bobbers.  I saw one caught.

I was wondering if the noise of the boat attracted the fish as Carl told us.

They would chum with something that looked like cat food.

The poles were fantastic.  They must have been twelve feet long and very thin.  There was no reel.  They were much like the long bamboo poles we use in the South, but they were not bamboo or any natural material.  I'd like to own one.

I was curious as to what would happen if I were to fish my jigs with an ultralight pole, using the smallest jigs possible.  However, I remember what I learned from the Florida fishing for mullet.  They would not hit jigs.



 

 Once Docked we boarded the buses for Favaios.