NONSUCH 



most astonishing structures, sometimes slender and 

 barbule-like, or again like a pair of fleshy fans wide- 

 spread as we look at the fish head on. I can think 

 of several reasons, such as increased friction and 

 overconspicuousness, why these should not exist, 

 but I cannot offer a single reason or explanation 

 for their presence. 



Later we found that we could bring down 

 medium-sized fish with .22 caliber shot cartridges, 

 but the chase with the net was much more sporting 

 and less damaging to the specimens. 



After an hour of pursuit and capture, we killed 

 the motor and drifted quietly in the heart of a field 

 of weed. For the first time in my life I realized 

 what a place of absolute silence is mid-ocean on 

 a day of calm. Always at sea one is accustomed to 

 hear the throbbing of the engines, or wind in the 

 rigging or flapping of sails or eternally the chatter 

 of fellow humans. Here we floated in perfect silence 

 — an unbroken stillness amid the golden weed deep 

 in a hollow of ocean walled with water for yards 

 above our heads, or balanced, still in a breathless 

 hush, poised on a motionless swell high in air with 

 the horizon broken only by the tug, half hidden 

 a mile away. Then gently again down, down, 

 down. 



I leaned far over the bow with my ear close to the 

 weed and heard the only sound in all the miles 

 around — two little crabs had climbed up on a 

 sargassum sprout and were sucking audibly at the 

 water in their gills. Then somewhere in the next 



66 



