Dominican Republic

Adventures in the DR: me, a fisher-woman?!

This post is also available in: Spanish

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It is with 100% certainty that I can announce that I most definitely am NOT a fisherwoman, in fact – I will never ever set foot on a fishing vessel every again!

alexei fishSeveral Sundays ago, I was invited on a fishing trip by a Russian friend of mine, Alexei.

Following a hearty breakfast of eggs on toast, which I would later regret, we waved good bye to dry land and set our sites on the horizon, in search of ……birds. Birds, indeed not exactly what I thought we would be looking for on a fishing trip, but apparently where there are birds, there are also fish – brilliant!

With our first bird sighting it all got rather exciting – the captain slowed the boat down, the ‘deck-hand’ put out the lines, and the ‘fishing’ began – waiting, sitting and drinking.

However, I started to feel sick, very sick – and so the sitting and drinking suddenly became sitting and being miserable, a rather unfortunate turn of events! But, then our luck changed – a line went taunt and the whole boat jumped into action, Alexei positioned himself in the ‘fishing seat’ and the battle commenced! Despite the excitement, I still felt sick and refused to believe that we were actually going to catch a fish – I was convinced he was reeling in some seaweed or an old boot or something….

It wasn’t until I saw this enormous fish flapping around in the water that I realised that there really was a fish – and I didn’t have my camera (my lack of enthusiasm/nausea precluding my natural reporting/photographing abilities!) Nevertheless, I did get very excited – until the poor fish was dragged aboard, flipping and flapping and spraying blood and guts all over the place – quietened only when the captain beat it over the head with a mallet! Oh the horror! I was stunned! fish head

The rest of the trip did not go well – with the dead fish lying in it’s own blood at my feet, my nausea returned and so did my breakfast and all my male companions kept saying was “you can reel in the next one!” NEXT ONE – I just wanted to go home!

Fortunately, the boys took pity on me and took me to Palmilla, after which we joined one of our Ukranian friends, Dema – and between them (the Ukranian and the Russian) they gutted the fish (while I recovered in the Jacuzzi) and we all enjoyed a wondeful fish BBQ!

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Am I really the ONLY person who has these kind of crazy experiences? If you have any interesting stories, memories or photos you would like to share with our Casa de Campo Living community please email [email protected]

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