By Pedro Pablo Morejon

HAVANA TIMES – For a few weeks now, the idea of going out and fishing has been constantly floating around my mind. Like I have written in a recent article, it came to me as I was waiting in line and heard that fish were really biting.

To go and fish, I needed to dig around the mess that is my spare room. I remember having seen an old roll of pita fiber with a hook, some time ago. However, I couldn’t find any trace of it when I was looking, so I gave up on the idea. I also don’t have any friends in the neighborhood who are fans of fishing.

The last time I can remember going out fishing was back in the mid-1990s. I had just completed my compulsory military service. I hadn’t got a university degree because I was a bad student, I wasn’t even given the letter from my pre-university for good behavior, a requirement for getting into University. So, as soon as I finished that hateful “green” (which is what we call military service in Cuba), I found myself without anything left to do.

At that time, I had a girlfriend who used to live some kilometers away from Puerta de Golpe, close to the dam. They were very poor people, below the average. Their daily diet was often made up of cornmeal and fish. It was a tough time, (well, when hasn’t it been?), the country was only beginning to leave the Special Period behind. They had an old wooden shack, with a roof made out of old asbestos cement prefab panels and a dirt floor.

The father worked at a farm and received a measly wage, spending the rest of his time fishing with his wife. That’s pretty much how they made their living. The girl, who was just a teenager at the time, was responsible for selling the fish about the town. People would call her Ochin, because of a famous Japanese soap opera at the time.

With raging hormones, I thought I was madly in love, to the point that I almost moved in with them. It meant that I spent almost two months going to the river with them, although I didn’t have a knack for the trade.

Sometimes, I would go out with a group of people who went fishing with a net. They would go at nighttime to avoid being caught by inspectors from the Fishery. Those were late nights suffering mosquito bites, the cold and insomnia. Just to get a couple of pesos. I wanted to save up, get married, have my own home. It was the common ambition of any idealistic young man in love.

But, just like everything in the world, my bewitchment with the girl ended. I have never gone out fishing again, since then… until now that is.

My father-in-law and brother-in-law have fishing equipment and go quite regularly, so one morning we decided to head for La Presa Juventud, the largest dam in the province, near the San Diego Junction.

In spite of not known much about the trade, I don’t think it was a good time to go out fishing. It was really windy, which meant the waves and water were rough. We spent up until 2:30 PM, suffering under a merciless sun. Almost nothing bit our line. That’s when I remembered Hemingway’s “The Old Man and the Sea”, and the phrase that a man can be ruined but never beaten. That’s how I felt at the time, completely exhausted.

Stubborn and not thinking in advance, I had gone out with a short-sleeve T-shirt. We managed to catch a couple of tilapias in the end, which weren’t worth the sunstroke that day. My skin is still burning.


Pedro Morejón

I am a man who fights for his goals, who assumes the consequences of his actions, who does not stop at obstacles. I could say that adversity has always been an inseparable companion, I have never had anything easy, but in some sense, it has benefited my character. I value what is in disuse, such as honesty, justice, honor. For a long time, I was tied to ideas and false paradigms that suffocated me, but little by little I managed to free myself and grow by myself. Today I am the one who dictates my morale, and I defend my freedom against wind and tide. I also build that freedom by writing, because being a writer defines me.

3 thoughts on “The Rookie Fisherman

  • Pedro I love reading your introspective and honest writing, keep it up brother.

  • Pedro, I too have a Cuban fishing tail. On one of my many visits to Varadero I decided to bring along some fishing gear as I fancy myself a competent fisherman here in Canada. After setting up on an outcropping of rock with my expensive Shimano rod & reel and several hours casting into the surf with no luck, some workmen on their lunch break joined me. With simple weighted line wrapped around plastic pop bottles they proceeded to catch fish after fish while I watched in wonder. They took pity on me and offered me some of their bait which did help and I managed to catch a few small fish.
    I left them with a couple of beers that I brought with me, some fishing line and tackle and my respect for their abilities. Hope to be able to return to your country soon and who knows maybe try my my luck again.
    Keep Well!

  • Pedro-I am looking for a fishing partner – very low key bank fishing in fresh and salt water- I have extra gear. So, You just need to figure a way to head a bit north to Cape Coral, Florida via Key West then across Florida bay.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *