Chasing the fish ...

Yesterday morning I happened upon the last fishing boat as it re-entered the harbour. It was pretty spectacular. In its wake were more seagulls than you could have shaken a stick at. The fishermen clean out their catch on the way back to harbour and I'm guessing that they toss the bits they don't keep back into the sea. As a result this big boat is a serious gravy train for all those hungry sea birds.

The fishing boats are usually greeted by a group of villagers keen to buy the freshest fish in town. After they dock there's quite a bit of animated commerce that goes on at the back of the processing plant. Wily grandmas jostle with hawkers who sell fresh sardines door to door. And there's a group of old men who meet up every morning down on the quay to shoot the breeze. Some of them bring fishing rods on the pretext that they'll maybe catch their lunch while they're there.

For a while after they dock the fishermen carry on preparing the fish and crating them up for onward transport. They seem to carry on tipping what they don't keep back into the water. As a result the harbour and the bay is full of well-fed fish.

And being full of well-fed fish it's the perfect place for normal folk, who fish for fun, to come and chance their luck. In the cool of the morning and the early evening there is usually a line of people all around the quay, patiently waiting for a fish to take their bait.

And then, in our harbour ecosystem with its complex feeding chain, there are other characters who benefit from the common bounty, but keep a discreet distance from the waves and display a marked preference for wearing dry paws. People toss them the odd tasty morsel, they lie back and enjoy the sunshine, and spare little thought for passing canines such as the WonderDog, who represent little if any threat.

All the best for now,

Bonny x