156 ALBACORA 



far from their vital organs, they often drag the little 

 boats for miles, and the chase, which starts at dawn, 

 sometimes continues long after sunset. For their work, 

 the fishermen earn barely enough to sustain themselves. 

 The most skillful of them cannot often hold a battle 

 with an albacora to less than three hours. 



Then there is the popular method of having the har- 

 poon line tied to a barrel. This barrel is tossed over- 

 board after the fish is well struck. Then, hours later, 

 after a day of fishing they return to the line and grapple 

 with the now exhausted fish, which could not get away 

 from the barrel. In some localities this fishing is done 

 from a tiny four-log balsam raft. It is difficult to watch 

 these men as they stand up fighting, since the raft dis- 

 appears from view constantly, as the big waves cut them 

 off. The raft, rising and falling with the waves, gives 

 the illusion that the men are walking on the water. 

 "Men with Jesus shoes," the boys say. 



As I sat in my chair I was aware of the daily chores 

 and purposeful activity around me. There had been two 

 plankton tows. Two bathyemograph readings for sub- 

 surface temperatures had been taken already, and it was 

 not yet eleven o'clock. 



Since the Explorer was not equipped with a winch, 

 it meant tough, laborious pulling and hauling both for 

 the captain and the two boys. 



I sat in the fighting chair, my twenty- four-thread rig 

 ready for action. This was eighty-pound breaking test 

 line, a strength that was, I felt, the perfect one for these 



