Somewhere in Botany Bay, sometime somewhat recently, a few meters under water. At night. Lots of interesting fish hide in the cracks of a rock jetty, to no avail, as the bright, and very very bright, in one case, lights of the underwater photographers find them. There are squid and shrimps too, and some funny looking worms in the sand. Fun.
But up on top of the short jetty stands a fisherman, having a different kind of fun. Hanging a line with a sharp hook into the water kind of fun. He is hoping – so I believe – that fish will bite this hook. Most of the fish in that shallow sandy part of the Pacific Ocean are small and well below eating size, though, but that does not deter hook-in-the-water-man. So, standing at the tip of the jetty, he has almost a full circle of ocean around him available to hang his hook in. He has ample ocean water to dip the sharp metal. And the night diver’s lights shine bright. He can see where they are, and they move slowly. It might be an idea not to cast your hook towards them! On land, throwing a piercing piece of metal at another person counts as 2nd degree assault and aggravated douchebagery. In the ocean it’s ok? Me deems not.
So, then one of our divers gets completely wrapped in the monofilament line the angling enthusiast. What choices are there? Get so entangled that he can’t move anymore and drowns? Better to cut the line and continue the nice night dive.
But the line-owner did not forget or forgive. When the dive buddies surfaced twenty minutes later, he snarled at them “Hey sunsofabitches did ya fukng cut my line?” “No!” “We don’t even have knifes” the answers come, but they don’t convince the angling Anglo-Saxon. “Mumblemumble sheit mumble” he goes on into the truly dark, now sans the night divers’ high powered torches, night.
As long as there is a single fish left in the ocean worth looking at or barbecuing, the battle between divers and anglers will rage on. Fact.
In this story the names have been omitted to protect the guilty.