📸 Photo

we’d pitched it into the fire, was pervasive and unpleasant. Marcus had been fishing all morning and devoted all his attention to his task.

‘Yossi, come here, quick!’ he screamed excitedly.
The line was quivering; he had hooked a big fish, powerful and quick. I grabbed the line but didn’t have enough to give the fish any slack. I gently tried to slow it to a standstill. Now the battle was on. I took in a little line, and he took it back. I knew that the fish was strong enough to break a line of this thickness. I reeled it in a few yards; it pulled back with a fantastic burst of energy. The line resounded with a shrill hum. I gripped it tightly. The fish let up a little, and I took in a few more yards of line, and then the fish tried a new tack: it swam quickly toward me, making the line go slack, and then suddenly sprang out of the water with a tremendous leap. It was beautiful, covered with golden scales, about a yard long. We let out cries of admiration.

‘Dorado!’ Karl called out. ‘It’s a dorado, the best fish in the river.’

‘That’s my fish. I caught it. Give me back the line. Yossi, give it to me now,’ Marcus whined.

‘It’s not your fish,’ I yelled furiously. ‘It’s food for all four of us. Get out of my way now.’

Karl tried to calm Marcus down. Kevin was taking pictures; he caught every move I made.

After about fifteen minutes the fish got tired. I reeled it in, almost to the shore. Finally, when it was about six feet from the bank, Karl jumped