Red hake (er...spotted hake)

Hake you may have when the cod failes in summer, if you will fish in the night.

John Smith (yes, that John Smith)

I should be clamming at the moment. I trusted the National Weather Service, though, and decided that lugging a bucket of clams in an open hatch on a kayak in a 20 knot breeze might not be wise.

I did, however, get a little bit of protein for dinner tonight. I tossed a few bits of clam out into the Delaware Bay, and exchanged them for a couple of red spotted hake (ling).

They are beautiful creatures, a muddy red, with dashing ventral fins now modified as whiskers tasting the bottom of the sea. The eyes are golden and sharp. Even in death, they look wise.

The books (always "the books") will tell you they forage at night. Three of us on the ferry jetty today can confirm that they feed during daylight as well.

***

We can also confirm that gulls are clever. A large gull ambled between us--if a gull is ambling by whistling Dixie, watch your bait.

Mr. Gull got a chunk of clam, but left the ling alone.

Later today I'll toss the guts and heads back into the bay. Mr. Gull can add ling to the stolen clams resting in his belly.

***

Leslie and I went back to toss the viscera, and to (perhaps) catch one more.

The water is an opaque green today--the light is a thousand shades of gray and green as a storm threatens in the southwest.

I get one more, and take him home, still very much alive.

I behead it in the sink, and the head still gasps, looking as surprised as I am that the body still flails.

Reflexes. Say it like a prayer. Reflexes.
I try to grab the tail, it flicks once more.
Reflexes.

A potato on the counter falls against my leg--I jump thinking the hake, now a ghost, has attacked me.

***

I forget things. Important things. Like how sweet fish flesh is when you eat it within two hours of its life.

Red hake, turns out, tastes real good.
Red hake with your lover's home made butternut squash soup is even better.

Thank you, Creator.

Note to self: running around a wet jetty in bare feet is fine; walking around the same wet jetty in sandals is treacherous.
I have a nice muddy red bruise on my rump to match the catch of the day.