"NIGHT FISHING AT ANTIBES" by KRIS HEMENSLEY

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NIGHT FISHING AT ANTIBES

(after Picasso, for Tim and John in Fowey)

 

What is trapped in the lantern light is the swing of the only eligible lady in town. We disagree as to who is the most eligible man. It is not an important disagreement. We stand upon the greasy quay at ease with our shadows. No sudden moves. No disquiet. I give my arm to the lady. I drag a bicycle beside me. I stand with the lantern admiring the stars of the night leaning upon my lady & my bike.

 

In Antibes we catch fish by day & by night - prolifically by day but more memorably at night. I hold the lantern & he collects the fish. My lady stands upon the quay. A fairy she is beneath the stars, an angel who walks between us. Why she bothers to ride a bicycle i have no idea. We were admiring the sea when she first swung into view.

 

Today we netted an enormous catch! Let us begin with last night. We rode to the pub where we drank the health of the day to come. The stars were obscured by cloud. We had had a poor day. We went to the pub after our daily meal & then drank in accordance with the custom of Antibes for the remainder of the night which happily coincided with our own habits in Antibes or anywhere else. It wasn't, then, a day of celebration. Until, that is, a lady entered the pub & sat down at a table opposite ours. There were only men in the place. To be sure, women were an unknown quantity here. We sometimes spoke about this during the day's fishing or in the middle of the night. It was plain from the very first moments that she was no ordinary woman. She was a fairy. We left without catching here eye. She sat at her table quietly drinking first a cup of Irish coffee then a single measure of spirits. She indicated her pleasure with a motion of the hand & head. She was served by the patron immediately. We left the pub certain that she was the keeper of strange secrets. The next day - today - we caught more than we have ever caught before. Tonight at the pub the lady was absent. We resolved to fish thru the night.

 

There is a full moon & a sky filled with stars. There are other fishermen on the dark side of the harbour much closer to the game than we are, holding court upon their decks more as cardplayers than as fishermen. They sing, or rather one man sings & the others respond with a chorus. It would indeed be nice to imagine that he sang of a mysterious woman who, if wooed successfully, would bring gold to the fishermen, the gold of the earth & the sky, the gold of day & night. That would be a fairy-tale. I give my dreams free reign. We are not indigenes of Antibes. The accents we listen to are dark music. Our own tongues dwell on the accounts of tackle & catch. He holds the lantern & i collect the fish.

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KRIS HEMENSLEY

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"NIGHT FISHING AT ANTIBES" was first published in Grosseteste Review - Vol.5 No.3 - Autumn 1972,

Pensnett, U.K.

& then in the collection of prose

"GAMES

An exhibition - 1970-1972"

published by

RIGMAROLE OF THE HOURS, Melbourne, 1978.

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