ALBACORA 211 



the other. He stabbed violently and did not slacken until 

 the exhausted fish had bled to death. Then he quickly 

 tied the marlin to the boat and set his sail for home. 

 "Hi," I shouted, ''Bueno! Grande marlina.^^ 



The boy waved casually at us. "Sometimes," said 

 Walt, "they go seventy miles out from shore. Henrique 

 says that all the men of La Plata are trained at bongo 

 fishing from the time they are children. It's the only 

 way they have to make a living." It was the hardest 

 way that I had ever seen. 



The next day I caught a fair-sized shark, which was 

 not what I had been after at all. From the Explorer 

 fishing was poor, and all we had for solace was our 

 pleasant primitive life around the hacienda. There was 

 no electricity so we used oil lamps, which smoked and 

 gave off very little light except when the flames oc- 

 casionally flared up to the ceiling. At bedtime, when all 

 the bedroom lamps were being lit, I learned to expect 

 screams. Someone was always within half an inch of 

 getting seriously burned. 



An Indian woman named Maria did her best to keep 

 us comfortable, and her son Adawalpa took to dropping 

 in with his guitar and singing soft plaintive native 

 songs. Neither could cheer us when our supply truck 

 finally arrived. The Scotch was intact and so was the 

 soda, but bouncing over the dreadful camino, most of 

 the water jars had been broken. All that remained was 

 eighteen gallons of drinkable water, and since we had 



