| ugor | |
| kg | |
| m | |
| Šibeniški arhipelag | |
| Lov po luknjah | |
| Lancea Adriatica 80 “fusion” |
“Ten pounds, twenty pounds, forty pounds, what difference does it make? The roar of the ocean, the cry of the seagulls, the cool sea breeze smelling of salt and cleanliness, /…/ these are the things that count. These are the memories that last, even after the season is over, when the fish are gone. /…/ These are the memories we take to the grave”
V.C. Hailner
The day was dark and not a little dreary. Low clouds pressed down on the earth and all living things with the weight of a huge iron hammer.
I felt like I was in a giant press, slightly dizzy and everything around me seemed to be moving in an impossibly slow and lazy way. The thick winter diving suit reinforced this feeling and I felt like a giant walrus, waddling awkwardly in the shallows, not knowing whether it wanted to stay and splash around in the sea, or whether it wanted to swim back to land.
The winter day was filled with cephalopods and crows. Now and then the body of a silver knight flashed in the cooler and the catch was anything but modest. But there was still something missing, something special, a real bokun, as the Dalmatians would say… a catch that takes your breath away and that you admire for a long time in silence, sitting on the boat…
I continued with my routine hunting. A torch in the left hand and a rifle ready to fire in the right. An inaudible dive, a fall into the immediate vicinity of the crack, a silent approach, a brief check and a return to the surface. I don’t know how many times I repeated all this, how many thoughts crossed my mind and how many times I broke the surface of the water with my flippers and plunged back into the blue, when suddenly the beam of light from my underwater torch illuminated a huge grey mass. It moved like a kind of hood, lazily and slowly, but still lightly and aggressively. Slowly, it turned its giant, silky head towards me, gently stretched its pelvic fins so that for a moment it looked like a dragon from Chinese mythology, and glided soundlessly through the water filter straight towards me.
The accurate shot was fatal for the giant.
The heavy and grey day dissipated towards evening and the only grey that remained was a huge and grey mass that swayed with me on the gentle and short waves of the young wind.
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