The trawlers are here. I have now seen firsthand why their fishing methods are so controversial. Yesterday when I walked the beach it was covered with dead fish. Not fish which had been cleaned, their bones and heads thrown overboard and washed ashore. No. These were perfectly good, healthy, robust fish lying up and down the beach. They had been caught in the trawlers' nets and tossed into the sea. The air stunk to high heavens with rotting fish. Today I counted 25 trawlers. I also counted 25 turkey vultures doing their part to clean up the beach. Unfortunately I have no photos of the fish or the buzzards but, unfortunately [again], I imagine I'll have another opportunity for such a photo shoot.
Shrimping season opened for the local fishermen on September 18, giving them an almost two-week jump on the big guys. A kilo of of fresh shrimp is running around 70 pesos (that's $7 for 2-1/2 pounds).
The sea did its part to reclaim the fish and so the beach in front of our park is pretty much clear of dead fish this morning. And pretty much clear of shells. Even though I felt like an idiot collecting shell after shell ("ahh, mucho conchitas" the vendors would say), I'm glad I did because having been so abundant after the storm, they are very scarce right now. Unlike my other fanaticisms, I mean hobbies, this one is free, provides exercise, and what I don't need I can return to the sea, money-back guarantee.
My goal is to cover my little palm tree with windchimes. After the tree disappears, I'll gather up the chimes and send them to my daughter who hates kitschy seashell shit as much as I do. Actually, I like these chimes, the combination of beads and stuff, the tinkly sound. But still, she'll hate them. I guess her Santa Monica neighbors may hate them too which might make my daughter like the chimes - just a little bit.
Little Ricky Retardo is still around. I'll try to catch a shot of his begging technique, all humpbacked and eeping like a pathetic drunkard harrasing people under the Burnside Bridge.
The trawlers are here. I have now seen firsthand why their fishing methods are so controversial. Yesterday when I walked the beach it was covered with dead fish. Not fish which had been cleaned, their bones and heads thrown overboard and washed ashore. No. These were perfectly good, healthy, robust fish lying up and down the beach. They had been caught in the trawlers' nets and tossed into the sea. The air stunk to high heavens with rotting fish. Today I counted 25 trawlers. I also counted 25 turkey vultures doing their part to clean up the beach. Unfortunately I have no photos of the fish or the buzzards but, unfortunately [again], I imagine I'll have another opportunity for such a photo shoot.
Shrimping season opened for the local fishermen on September 18, giving them an almost two-week jump on the big guys. A kilo of of fresh shrimp is running around 70 pesos (that's $7 for 2-1/2 pounds).
The sea did its part to reclaim the fish and so the beach in front of our park is pretty much clear of dead fish this morning. And pretty much clear of shells. Even though I felt like an idiot collecting shell after shell ("ahh, mucho conchitas" the vendors would say), I'm glad I did because having been so abundant after the storm, they are very scarce right now. Unlike my other fanaticisms, I mean hobbies, this one is free, provides exercise, and what I don't need I can return to the sea, money-back guarantee.
My goal is to cover my little palm tree with windchimes. After the tree disappears, I'll gather up the chimes and send them to my daughter who hates kitschy seashell shit as much as I do. Actually, I like these chimes, the combination of beads and stuff, the tinkly sound. But still, she'll hate them. I guess her Santa Monica neighbors may hate them too which might make my daughter like the chimes - just a little bit.
Little Ricky Retardo is still around. I'll try to catch a shot of his begging technique, all humpbacked and eeping like a pathetic drunkard harrasing people under the Burnside Bridge.
4 comments:
Okay Antonia ~ you are making me want to come and visit you. I could use a walk along the ocean's edge and would delight in finding some lovely seashells. But I guess I could do without the stench and sight of poor dead fish...
And by the way, your seashell windbells don't look too cutesy or kitschey to me. How's the disserlike chime coming along? junemoon
hola junemoon. surely in a month the smell will be gone and the weather will be milder - a perfect time for visitors from the north. as soon as i get around to it, i will shoot some pictures of the start of my disser chime. oh, if you can't make it to a beach, i'll be glad to send a box of shells your way :o)
hola to you too Antonia ~ What a sweet offer your is of sending seashells my way. I may very well take you up on that as we continue along our getting to know one another blog commenting path. I can't wait to see your version of the disser chimes! junemoon
I actually really love those chimes! It would be so perfect in my freshly landscaped back yard. They could hang from the oak tree, I'm serious. They are really pretty.
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