Page 6 - Finned_fury_1960

that the catch is a big one. Fingers
clawing now into the slack of the
floor net itself, they begin the actual
mattanza, the kill.
“Aja mola, aja mola! Jan-tzo,
!”
jan-tzo
Hand over hand, they haul in the
net. The sea within the closed-off
rectangle begins to seethe. Huge fins
break out of water; silvery bodies
flash up in the sun, crash down. The
many tuna in the nets, and the fish main chamber from all tunnels, closes sea boils white with foam. Fish hurl
are running to size, Parodi will make the lone avenue of escape. themselves savagely at the walls of
as much as fifty thousand American Rais gets to his feet and waves his the net, flop back, hurl themselves
dollars this day. Of he may lose three arms. Somberly. He has seen only a again.
to four hundred dollars in daily ex- few tuna. They must wait. Now the net has been hauled to
penses. By noon the tuna have not ap- the highest point man can bring it.
Far more is at stake than mere peared. It seems that this year the So it is fastened to the boats and the
money. Here is the eternal struggle fish has lost the romantic drive which fishermen reach for their hooked
between man and nature; the honor compels it to seek its private spawn- poles. A tuna is gaffed; one, two,
of the firm, the fleet commander, ing grounds. The boatmen are de- three, four poles sink into the fish.
and the individual is on the line. The pressed. Eight men strain on the poles, haul
fleet commander shoulders great re- Rais stands up, drops on all fours the hefty tuna aboard, duck respect-
sponsibility. He is a stern-faced, above the glass window in his dory fully as the wildly thrashing tail
stocky man in tweed jacket and bottom. He waves, with excited mo- menaces them. The fish is flung be-
black cap called Rais who rides in tions. Below, a dark, slithery mass of hind them, into the flat-bottomed
one of the two small boats. A month scurrying forms has appeared in the deck hold of the barge, where in a
before, in April, Rais planned, pre- net tunnels. Tuna! Crowding, jam- matter of a few moments it will die.
pared, and positioned the complicat- ming, toward the traps by the hun- Other tuna are hooked and other
ed network which forms the tonnara: dred! battles between man and fish end
a mile and a half underwater “tun- Tense fingers grip the trapdoor with the inevitable defeat of the fish.
nel” of nets designed to turn the net as the men again line the deck of Salt-water spray splatters the men,
giant tuna around and around and the barge. Rais raises an arm, drops their clothes soak red with blood,
slowly draw them beyond the barri- it, shouts: “Mattanza! Mattanza!” their breath comes in loud gasps,
ers into the net chambers from which Hard-muscled backs strain against they are beyond speech capability.
there is little hope of escape. His the weight of the net, heaving up- The primitive struggle wages on,
boat has a wide glass window in its ward. A ceremonial song, used more seemingly endless, but there comes a
bottom. When at the nets, Rais will for rhythmic coordination among the moment when the water is calm,
peer through this window into the men than for purposes of supersti- when no fins or foam are seen. For
clear blue water, study the tonnara, tion, breaks the morning-long si- a few seconds the men seem para-
count the number of entrapped fish, lence. “Aja mola, aja mola! Jan-tzo, lyzed, uncomprehending. Then hands
give or not give the order for mat- jan-tzo! San Petru pescaturi!” steal to caps, and bareheaded, the
tanza. It is a mixture of Sicilian and fishermen pray.
At five o’clock they are in posi- Arabic words the meanings of which Afterward the men jump into the
tion. The commander signals the tug have grown obscure even to the sea, onto the raised net, and wallow-
captain to cut adrift the two big fishermen of Favignana. But they ing gleefully wash the blood from
boats, the vascellos. The pair of sing, and they haul on the net, and themselves and their work clothes.
dories, crewed by sturdy oarsmen, in a moment Rais—peering through Back aboard the boats, they care-
carefully nudge the open barge-like his wet window—signals that the trap- fully lower the net to the floor of
vascellos into position on either side door is in position. The tuna are the main trap chamber, and turn
of the rectangle formed by the un- caught! toward home, Favignana Island. By
derwater net chambers. Anchors are Swiftly, expertly, the two dories the time they arrive, the men on the
dropped. skim to each end of the rectangle, barges have totaled up a catch of
One dory begins to make slow completing it by anchoring cross- two hundred and eighty-six huge
circles between the barges. Kneeling wise between the two heavy barges. tuna. Gian Battista Parodi greets
in this boat is Rais, peering through Men on the barges and in the dories the fishermen with a congratulatory
the window, trying to glimpse and reach down with long wood gaffing smile and a promise of a bonus.
count the streaking, shadowy forms staffs and draw up ropes attached to Even as the tunafish are unloaded,
of his quarry. He sees tunafish cir- the net floor of the main chamber cut, boiled, and canned, the hardy
cling and turning, some in the tun- which have been kept above surface fishermen are putting out to sea
nels, some in the chambers. On one by corked bottles. These ropes are again—a lone dory is sent to begin a
vascello the men stand in line, silent, tightly pulled to the surface until the new death watch. More tuna could
fingers hooked into the top of a net fishermen feel the weight hard on be coming this way. There is high
which, once jerked up, shuts off the their backs and shoulders and know hope for a second mattanza.
48 TRUE ADVENTURES