A surprise wave tossed my brother into the rocky shoreline. It was bigger than any jujitsu fighter he’d ever faced. “You can’t submit the ocean,” he admitted, demoralized, “it doesn’t have any limbs.”
After a long break sitting on the sand, I convinced him to have another go at surfing since he’d be heading back to the east coast soon and we had to make use of our chance. We paddled out, trying to be more selective with waves. Just then -- as we scanned the edge of the water like birds looking for pray - a strange blob lurched onto shore from beneath the water.
It was a wide man in a scuba suit. He tossed a spear gun onto the beach and, breathing heavy, put all his might into dragging a giant fish onto the sand. The fish, 100+ pounds, took the man forever to pull to dry land.
A crowd gathered round him. My brother and I joined in.
I asked the guy, “How long were you down there?”
“For hours or so,” he said, “I was digging through the kelp, waiting for a monster to show itself. I only had one spear, so I needed to be patient. When you see a good fish, wait for a better fish.”
“What the heck are you going to do with this?”
“Should feed my family for a day or two.”
“Just a day or two?”
“I have a big family,” the guy said. He laughed a bit.
The man surprisingly was not very interested in answering questions. My brother and I went back to the waves for a few minutes and chatted.
We didn’t catch any more waves, but at least we got to see a big fish.
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