CHAPTER 5

Too Many Fish in the Sea

“Where was your mind was whole night?”

“Where was your mind was who“Africa.”

“Where was your mind was who“Oh? You walk?”

The mate held up his T-shirt, mainly a red hole, and wriggled it on. He tested the bamboo pole that trawled the skipping lure from the fast-shearing hull with the Trade behind them.

“Mackerel running,” he said.         

“Africa, right! You get sunstroke, chief. That is all.”

—DEREK WALCOTT,
Omeros

Mackerel may have been runnin’ that bright sunlit day, but it was not mackerel folks was runnin’ they mouths ’bout, that spring Brian Lara led the West Indians to trounce the United Kingdom, legendary cricketeer Gary Sobers was knighted, and David Rudder of Antigua led a whole stadium of island hoppin’ Caribbeans, like true balladeers, in singing: “It’s a pan man’s war, yes me brodah.” While the rest of the Caribbean concerned itself with play and work, Trinidadians and Barbadians prepared to go to The Hague and the World Court about the matter of the flyin’ fish.

It seems that the Trinidad and Tobago fishermen were plyin’ the seas beyond their legal boundaries, catchin’ up all the flyin’ fish so essential to a Barbadian diet. This is a wee bit of a fish we are now discussin’, by the way, with a sweet, tender taste to it (so long as the sack of poison it carries is removed before cookin’). The whole of the Caribbean News Service, Barbados TV, and Trinidad and Tobago Television were steeped in scores of cricket matches and interviews with the man on the island street’s opinion of the flyin’ fish situation.

While Barbadians consume the fish, Trinidadians do not. It was, therefore, an ugly and greedy act on the part of the Trinidad and Tobago fishermen to set their nets out for a fish they don’t eat, in waters that aren’t their own waters, to sell it back to Barbadians from Barbadian waters with the price reachin’ half to the moon. The other side of the argument was if the Barbadians wanted the flyin’ fish so much, why didn’t they roll up their sleeves and catch them for themselves? Trinidadian fishermen were only answering the demands of the market; they didn’t even eat the creature. That was what was so galling to the Barbadians, Trinidadians don’t even want the fish, but they chasin’ flyin’ fish through the sea like it was they mothers’ last dyin’ request. Trinidadians simply reply, “We catch the fish so we can sell it to you.” “Back to us, you mean.” Barbadians seethe. “Oh, but you not we only customer, ya see,” I can hear a seaman from La Fillette reply. “Dem Japanese want some of we catch as well, now.” And so it goes on and on, the aggressive, mercantile Trinidad and Tobago fishermen, no doubt supported by their government, stealing and selling, at loan-shark rates, the poor flyin’ fish back to those who truly appreciate its delicate flavor. The matter has yet to be adjudicated at The Hague, but it’s on the Court’s docket.

If we were to find our kitchen a-run with flyin’ fish, we must remember to take the poison out. Then, floured or not, fried or broiled, do it quickly in hot oil that will not distract from the true sweetness of the meat (no peanut oil). Cookin’ flyin’ fish is rather like preparin’ shrimp, in the sense that undercookin’ is difficult while overcookin’ can take place in one second’s gesture to answer the phone in the next room.

Heaven only knows what kind of ruckus Trinidadians would raise if Barbadians came after their treasured shark meat, which to hear them tell it is never dry, so long as you know what you are doing in your own kitchen.

Cousin Eddie’s Shark with Breadfruit

First, let your favorite fisherman know that you a-lookin’ for him to bring ya a good sturdy shark, but not too big unless you expectin’ all the family from Port-of-Spain and San Fernando to show up. See if he can’t find somebody to share the shark with ya so ya don’t waste the meat. Have him get one of his men to clean it for ya, they’ll only be lookin’ for a bit of change, ya see. Let them fillet it as well—be sure to mention that. Shark is not the easiest fish to chop up, I can tell ya that. Okay, wash it off really well. If the water has been turned off for the day, make sure you’re at Lower Village Pump in time to get enough to boil 1 large breadfruit and 4–5 green bananas. Water won’t come back, if it’s been shut off, till after you want all your cookin’ done with.

Okay, baste your ¾–1-inch shark meat in some coconut oil and a dash of Girley’s pepper sauce. Oil the grill too, so your shark don’t stick, fall apart. Then, season the shark with garlic, if you choose. But don’t use too many things. Set your shark on the broiler for no more than 5–6 minutes. It’s not goin’ta turn all brown now, but a honey color, to my mind. Take it off the grill and cover so them safe from fly and other pest.

Now, in a large pot full of boiling water, set your green bananas (with peels) and breadfruit slices. You’ve peeled and seeded the breadfruit already. Don’t be afraid when it changes to a blood red color, that’s the mourning of our ancestors, hungry for us to live now. Okay, boil these up in your water with some cilantro, garlic, onion, and pepper to taste. When they are easily pierced by your fork, they are ready to eat. That’s how I do it and me mohda before that.