Craig Wisner

Malibu Spearing. 3/15/15.

He’s getting more confident in the water, following effortlessly through the breakers and into the outer kelp beds, dive buoy in tow.  I believe he’s losing his fear.  To the uninitiated it’s a big, unfamiliar world, the mind constantly conjuring specters out of dark shapes and emptiness.  Fish worth shooting were sparse today, though there were plenty of schools of baitfish circling and darting.  Liquid silver clouds, morphing, dispersing, multiple organisms seeming to create a single larger one.  I found a new area, thick kelp forests bordering a deep trench in the reef about a meter wide.  I timed a dive with the surge and went rocketing through this miniature canyon, walls rising 15 to 20 feet on either side, short calicos fleeing as I glide through.  It likely would’ve been a good place to look for octopus.  The kelp is back and thick and healthy, finally reattached after winter storms and large waves.  That there were no fish to shoot- I left the opaleye alone- this was fine with me.  I passed on them, simply enjoying the sights with my son beside me.  I feel the urge to spend more time out there without a speargun, simply blending amongst the life.

It calls me, underwater.  A powerful refuge.  Cold, silent, shaded…my daydreams constantly return me to the outer edges of a bending kelp bed, darkness overhead, pulling myself through by the stalks…



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