Second Beach: A light-hearted adventure, and a short story for adults by Peter Rimmer

Author:Peter Rimmer [Rimmer, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kamba Publishing
Published: 2018-12-22T07:00:00+00:00

11

It was cold that night on the rock-ship and Nteli lit a fire while they fished for the elusive crayfish. Two of his gang were in position near the thatched house, one of them ready to report back if anything stirred in the house. The moon was only due to rise in half an hour and the heavens were brilliant with three distinct layers of stars.

Hank climbed up onto the rock and put his wicker basket down next to the fire. He had eaten his supper and ostensibly gone off to catch crayfish with a bamboo pole.

“Anything happened, Nteli?”

“They’re asleep. All the lights are out… We caught one crayfish, which we are going to roast on the fire. What’s that?” they had spoken in Xhosa and he was pointing to the unusual-looking basket Hank had put down.

Pointing to a cross in the heavens, Hank said, “Nteli, just look at the sky. That must be the Southern Cross… Or is it that one?”

“What is it?” Nteli was inspecting the wickerwork.

“A basket. Sort of. It’s going to make your life much easier and the gang will think you are a thorough wizard.”

“There’s rotten fish in the bottom… Where did you get it from?”

“My dad.”

“There is no lid.”

“Put your arm down that funnel and pull out the fish.” Nteli did as he was told and got his hand stuck inside the basket.

“I’m stuck.”

“Exactly. Let go of the fish and use your free hand to push open the sticks, which make that funnel and you’ll come free… That’s it. Now, if a crayfish slides down that funnel to eat the fish he’ll be unable to get out as crayfish do not have a spare hand or a brain. What we do is lower the crayfish pot down on this rope and pull it up when it’s full. But you can only use it when the sea’s calm like tonight.”

“Why don’t the crayfish eat the fish through the holes in the basket?”

“Their feelers are too short and the fish has been placed on wooden spikes in the centre of the basket.”

“Who invented it? Your dad?”

“No. It was the fishermen in the Mediterranean thousands of years ago. They don’t have bamboo poles in that part of the world.”

“It won’t work.”

“We can only try.”

The basket was lowered way down into the sea until it hit the sand bottom and then the end of the rope was tied to a rock.

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