Reconnecting with nature and community in the inner city.
Stormy weather took out the power lines so Christmas morning began with a crackling fire and smokey toasted croissants. Traditions of plastic trees, turkey and shouting matches are made to be broken: family, friends and fishing are much nicer. Chocolate birthday cake is pretty delightful as well.
…and the wind blew in, sand turned savage began biting our legs. What seemed like an easy wade across the river mouth before became treacherous as I began to sink, the sickly quick sand like slurry giving way beneath me to gobble up legs to the knee. I pulled myself free as the clouds rolled in and we ran for the cover, although I think some were secretly running towards lunch as our hooks remained empty. But lovely remote spots are wild like that, and that is their charm.
It was quiet, an aged man and wife sat on the pier with what looked like very impressive fishing rods indeed. They seemed intent on their lines dangling into the water below and unimpressed by the nosey newcomers grunting “chicken” when question about their bait.
All heads whipped as the dunes began to vibrate and a low thumping sound began rumbling from behind the reeds, the makers of the “doof doof” screamed into site, all four wheel drive and no brains, youths hanging out of every window, sunglasses and smirks. We looked from the narrow bridge, to the bull-bar of the car and lungs halting watched it skim inches past the couple, grim gargoyles with set faces.
On the search for pleasanter company, ie isolation, we headed in the opposite direction to the “doof doof” towards the ocean. We set up rods and waited, but then the cool change came in…
We started reducing the amount of meat we ate during our Permaculture course, how could we not after learning about how unsustainable it is and unnecessary? Humans have evolved as omnivores so I’m not about to tell people who love meat they shouldn’t eat it, I don’t think it is unnatural to do so, but we definitely didn’t evolve eating it everyday, perhaps once a week. It was a special thing which involved a lot of skill in tracking and hunting, the animals were not on a production line, they were revered and every part of them from skin to horn were used, nothing was wasted.
We decided to eat only wild meats, ones that would otherwise be a waste product of culling. But slowly becoming more awake to the implications of what I eat, I came to a conclusion…I should only eat what I would be willing to kill myself, with my two hands, no more little styrofoam trays!
After this decision, I realised I didn’t have much of a stomach for such things, the list of meats dwindled to birds and fish. It came to a head when our housemate wanted to hatch a dozen Bantams and kill and eat the roosters. I quietly and shamefully sobbed into my pillow that night and realised afterward I could not eat chicken anymore, so I became a pescatarian. (Of course if you are going to eat chicken my housemates approach was perfectly right, on a farm the extra roosters would to be dispatched, often without being eaten at all.) Then one night I had a nightmare that I had a fish in my hands and it was wriggling and I knew I shouldn’t just let it drown in air, but I just couldn’t deal the fatal stroke . The next time I ate fish I had this niggling guilt, I had to go fishing and see if I could do it before I could eat fish again.
That is how rod in hand (and spear for our British friend) we came to be at the beach fishing off the rocks. Surprisingly the first cast we got, was not what we at first thought was a snag, but a healthy sized fish, and … it was fine. But it did make me more aware of the idea that even eating a fish you have caught yourself is taking a life and it shouldn’t be done too lightly. I am happy to stick to just eating fish that we had caught ourselves. It seems unnecessary to eat it more than that. Meanwhile, is it me or is the average vegetarian food often more gourmet tasting than the usual meat and three veg? There are so many delicious subtle flavours!
Oh I guess I should make mention of the shelling of broad beans on the beach, it can be tedious shelling them so why not get little sun at the same time. On the way back home, catch in hand we spotted a little penguin who had obviously taken a wrong turn and needed a little rest on the rocks before heading to more familiar waters.