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From Indian River right round and up to Cedar Keys there's all sorts of fishing, and you can camp out on the reefs; one cooks one's own food and you can swim all day. There's tarpon and barracuda and sword fish, and nights when there's a moon you could see to read a book." "How jolly!" "Let's go there?" "How do you mean?" "Oh, just you and I. I'm fed up with everything.
Once a fish was speared, it was important to get it out of the water as soon as possible, since blood would bring sharks or barracuda if any were in the neighborhood. "Come on," Rick said impatiently. "Let's go." "I'm coming." Scotty finished coiling up the light line he used to tether the float to his belt, and they stepped into the water. The temperature was just right.
He was running out of breath, too. Quickly he planed for the surface, feeling the fury on the end of his line. He broke water, gulped air, then dove again. He pulled in the line until he saw the fish struggling. He had nearly missed. The harpoon had taken the barracuda near the tail, fortunately hitting the spine. Rick pulled him in, hand over hand, then gripped his spear by the extreme end.
Joe paused, remembering. "When Lovena said 'manta' or 'barracuda, the words weren't just names; they were respectful. A 'bar-ra-cu-da' was important, important as any life." "What happened to her?" "Don't know. I quit. I hated to say goodbye. In fact, the last day there, I asked if I could come see her. She was feeling bad, too.
We waited a long time while the line slowly bagged, drifting toward us. Suddenly I felt a quick, strong pull. It electrified me. I yelled to Dan. He said, excitedly, "Feed it to him!" but the line ceased to play out. I waited, slowly losing hope, with my pulses going back to normal. After we drifted for five minutes I wound in the line. The barracuda was gone and the leader had been rolled up.
We were admiring his beautiful, subdued colors as he swam near the boat, when up out of the blue depths shot a long gray form as swift as lightning. It was a big barracuda. In his rush he cut that bonita in two. The captain grasped the line and yelled for us to get the gaffs. R. C. dropped the rod and got the small gaff, and as I went for the big one I heard them both yell.
That there was a goodly dash of sentiment in his nature is shown in that, after ten years, he bought the boat and would have kept her for life, had she not been wrecked on the Florida Reefs and her bones given to the barracuda. In front of Girard's little store on Water Street there was a pump, patronized by the neighbors. Girard had been there about three months.
How many tarpon, barracuda, amberjack, and tuna I have lost on the Atlantic seaboard just because the boat could not be turned in time! Clemente Island is a mountain of cliffs and caves. It must be of volcanic origin, and when the lava rose, hot and boiling, great blow-holes formed, and hardened to make the caves. It is an exceedingly beautiful island.
Rick knew that his apparent disinterest could change to lightning flight. Few fish were so fast. He followed Scotty's example, moving slowly toward the quarry. He was a dozen feet down now, and in the lessened light the barracuda loomed large, a slim arrow of a fish, poised for flight. The spear gun was extended, the spear point nearing firing range. Rick planned to shoot from about six feet.
Dan put on an albacore. But it came off before I could let out the line. Then we tried a barracuda. I got a long line out and the hook pulled loose. This was unfortunate and aggravating. We had one barracuda left. Dan hooked it on hard. "That'll never come off!" he exclaimed.
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