PNG Echo

life’s echoes
Beautiful Southern Bougainville
The Sailfish
A SHORT STORY FROM BOUGAINVILLE
by CHRIS BARIA
When Kuruma arrived at the beach,
the familiar smell of salt and sea
hit his nostrils as he looked up
and down the shoreline. There
was no one around but there were
footprints and drag marks made by canoes on the
sand leading to the waters edge.
Looking out across the bay, he could make out the
canoes even though the sky was overcast. From where
he stood, they looked like chess pieces on a vast
chessboard.
Going by the sun, barely visible through the grey
clouds, Kuruma estimated it was about 3 o’clock. He
had thirty minutes to paddle to the spot where he had
seen a turtle surface last time and two hours to fish.
Kuruma turned around and walked up the stretch
of sand sloping from the waters edge to the edge
of the bushes where he kept his canoe under the
coconut trees.
His canoe was under a sheet of roofing iron exactly
where he’d left it. He lifted the roofing iron, set it
aside and looked into the dugout hull of the canoe
to make sure all his equipment was there. With both
hands, he picked up the canoe by the outrigger and
dragged it out of the bushes onto the beach.
In his tote bag, he took out a 20-pound line
rolled around a 7-inch round and buoyant piece of
softwood and proceeded to fashion a ‘jig rig’. This
was a multi-hooked line for bottom fishing, usually
for baitfish although also ideal for when fish were in
a feeding frenzy.
Next he made a trawling jig, placing it towards the
back of the canoe and the trawling line towards the
front to avoid them getting tangled.
He had been careful to check the four pegs
driven into the outrigger attaching it to the canoe,
remembering another time when he hadn’t checked
and the loose pegs had come off, detaching the
12 PNG ECHO