ALBACORA 13 



moved, and clawing the bait. Other squid joined the 

 battle. They were strange, unpleasant shapes that 

 smacked of nothing so much as horror. They were ugly 

 and dangerous and fierce. "One struck," I shouted in 

 excitement. "I gaff him," Mario muttered intensely. 

 "You bring him near, I gaff." 



As the squid moved closer, I gently pulled the 

 line from which the live bait were swimming, drawing 

 the little fish closer to the boat. The squid followed and 

 Mario repeated, "I gaff him." I continued drawing in 

 the line, very carefully, and the squid continued fol- 

 lowing until both the live bait and the two squid seemed 

 to be hovering alongside of our stern. The hovering did 

 not last long. Mario suddenly lashed the water with his 

 gaff and a small ocean shot up around us. The strike 

 had been true and the gaffed squid was frantically 

 working his jet syphon. A shower of ink splashed Mario 

 and me; then came more ocean. I was drenched but 

 absolutely unconcerned. Next to me, Mario was hauling 

 a writhing squid onto the Explorer, 



Stretched out on the stern deck, the squid ran almost 

 fifteen feet from the tips of its tentacles to what passes 

 for a head. In the iodine sea all squid seem ghastly 

 white, but on deck this one was different. It was no 

 color and all colors — first red, then white, then fading 

 into countless other shades. Two monstrous eyes ap- 

 peared to stare coldly from the big forward lump, and 

 though I could not see it, I knew that buried some- 



