To see him sitting on the tip of the pier made only of wood, perfectly still with his head down looking at the water, it seemed as if it were alive, as an ornament. Instead it was all right, held his fishing pole with his right hand while his left was holding a straw hat that is too big for her head, but good for those rays of sunshine as thick as stalactites falling down from the sky. He had been at that pier, about a dozen times and never got anything. He however did not matter, the fish could still see through clear water and you do not bite meant that it was fate. Furthermore, only in that place did not hear the noise of the world, the best sound of the sea beat on the wooden posts that supported the precarious structure. He stood for a couple of hours and everything seemed to take place as usual: the same hat, the same barrel, the same sea, the same group of fish that were moving along just as coordinated swallows at sunset. Suddenly, however, felt a slight tug on the rod that he was awakened from a dream with open eyes, was not prepared for such an event, and certainly not an expert, but she took courage and began to stand stronger in your hands what a little 'ambiguously called fishing tool. He understood immediately that the game of tug of war with a creature of a few grams heavier than a remote control would have won in a few seconds, and so it was. He picked up the fish with that stuff much like the yo-yo and watched him dangle for a while ', was not large, it was not nice, but hell it was a fish. He took off his straw hat too large for the Roveco, put it inside next and put the fish still quivering. He barely had time to take another position that he felt tug on the rod, the stronger this time. The fight was longer than a minute compared to the previous year, but ended the same way, other fish in the Hat, another satisfied smile.
Within an hour, twenty fish bite; Most of the time it seemed even revolt, as if they wanted to be caught. The straw hat did not hold anything now, then stood up and was thinking, even a ten times, the eleventh winds. How strange is fishing how strange life
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