Gill talks about the influence of fish on a family’s life and how important a chance incident can
be in changing a man’s ambitions.
FLICKERING REFLECTIONS
She stepped through the sliding door onto the wooden deck, shading her eyes from the bright
morning sun.
A beautiful newly washed day. After the buffeting east wind it was still, warm, inviting. Climbing
down the jetty steps she carefully eased into the blue and white canoe. Hers now - inherited from
the children. They were all grown and far away leading their adult lives. Careful not to tip it and
splash herself with the cold canal water she picked up the paddle and set off, the blade cutting the
mirror glass reflections of the surrounding landscape. Gently she made her way, observing her
surroundings. Rounding the bend she waited expectantly for the first sight of the beautiful lagoon
and beach; a mirage of misty blues framed by the blue mountains.
She moored the canoe and crossed the dune to the sea, splashing happily in the wave’s lacey
fringe. The water was cold; the sun warm on her shoulders. The rough seas of the previous days
had washed up an intriguing variety of pink, grey and black shells and looking for the perfect
specimen, she picked up an occasional one. Soon her pants pockets were full. Coming to a little
inlet she bent down and a battalion of tiny silver fish sped across the water, their shadows
flickering behind them like a formation of Zulu shields. “Fish have been of one the most
important influences in my life,” she thought.
Comfortably squatting, gazing into the clear water she mused on. “Not for nothing do the
Shemanic peoples believe that fish embody the spirit-energy-life in the human body and that the
spirit of the water is to be respected. They won’t even catch and eat them.”
Smiling, she realized that her married life had evolved and been lived around fish. Catching and
cooking them; stories about them; holidays spent around them; hours of abandonment to them;
even the business he had created around them. The restaurant she had put her heart into, using her
cooking talents to the utmost. Her contribution to her family’s future. Retracing her steps she
remembered it all. But it had taken a few years to learn to accept it with equanimity.
When she and her husband spent their honeymoon at St Josephs, then a small fishing village, the
seed of his enthrallment seemed to have taken root. Later they had undertaken a more
adventurous holiday to the Transkei Wild Coast. A charming hotel, with terrible mattresses. They
were so bad she had slept in the bath rather than endure their discomfort.
Then, the fishing bug really grabbed her adventurous husband. One day he caught a large mussel-
cracker, a fish with lots of tiny teeth, but it was he who was hooked. As he pulled the hook from
is jaw, it slithered down the rocks nearly back into the crashing waves. Risking life and limb he
had retrieved it from Neptune’s domain. That was the start of his ‘derring do’. Not content with
peacefully casting a line from the rocks, he wanted to find more exciting ways of catching more
and larger fish.
That of course involved boats, and more boats. Each bigger and better and they had to have
bigger and better vehicles to tow them to remote parts of the coast. She and the children had
tagged along. The kids were too small to be part of excitement, but loved the freedom of beach
and sun. They learnt to love the glorious coastline, imprinting its beauty on their minds, ready for
the days when, back in the grey cities where they would spend their young adulthood in search of
fame and fortune, they would think with longing of the world of their childhood.
Paddling back to the house her mind took her further. She realized that fish great and small had
shaped the cycle of her life, nurturing her in many ways. From financial security, to friendships,
holidays, homes and adventures.
As she approached, waving from the deck in front of their white painted home snug under the
palm trees she saw the portly white-bearded man.
Although no longer the young pirate of the seas with his dark curls and ‘derring do’ he still had
his love of fish and despite the years which had passed, was still waiting to catch that BIG ONE!