Fishing

The good weather is coming and the recreationalists are rushing to get their boats ready to go fishing.

There are some —more veteran— who go out at any time of the year as soon as the sea allows it. Just ask those who arrive at the port with their string of squid at Christmas.

For me, fishing is a gentle emotion. Very deep. I remember a sunny summer afternoon when on board the boat of my friends Juan (e.p.d.) and Pepe Seguí Serra we went fishing for "'Raons" (razor fish) near the "Pont d'en Gil". Shallow and transparent waters. You could see the sandy bottom and —here and there- some rocks surrounded by seaweed. We watched the "'raons" approach the bait. The sun was beating down. The water was shining. But when the fish struck, my heart went after the kite, because the "raons" pull with strength and joy.

And the return: Almost at nightfall. When the sea, calm, reflects the colors of the sun that has just disappeared. The slow noise of the engine. The wake, at the stern, that widens in multicoloured waves. And the water, seen from the deck, at the bow, almost at eye level, is a smooth and immense mirror. On the bow, the bucket full of pink "raons".

Other times, those when Juan Seguí Serra -one of the best fans- fished in the Port of Ciutadella, sitting almost in front of what is now the Bar Tritón, he caught 316 sea bream in one afternoon.