Fishers of Shrimp

Due to popular demand, I present a post detailing the fine art of prawn fishing, and my experiences thereof.

Roughly a month (I say a month, but I really have no idea) ago, the Abrey collective and I stopped by a holiday camp of sorts on the way back from purchasing some bags of water to refill my Uncle Paul's fishtank with. And yesterday, because of overwhelming public demand, I returned again to that land of mystery and intrigue, in order to once again try my hand at...

...PRAWN FISHING!

In need for an adventure, my Uncle and I decided to again forge our way through the wilds of north-western Singapore to find the collection of shacks that has become a haven for the bruised and beaten of society to cast aside their cares and fish for prawns. Though not much to look at, experience has shown that this humble construction is home to some of the greatest prawn fishers this side of the Serengeti.

Though not terribly full on arrival, new customers quickly filled up the little shack as word of my arrival spread. A newcomer I may be, but an amateur I am not.

Now, the shrimp filled pool was quite a sight. I am as yet unacquainted with whatever witchcraft causes the liquid to remain opaque, but it should be considered an admirable achievement, as it prevents the fishers from directly viewing their quarry, therefore retaining the delicate balance between hunter and hunted.

My uncle and I wasted no time in grabbing a rod with which to do battle. Now you may be thinking, "Josh, are you not taking this whole prawn fishing thing a little seriously?" And I would say, "Nay, good citizen, for until you have matched wits against the raw fury that the prawn embodies for yourself, you can't hope to understand the intense mental preparation the fisher must undergo to prepare himself for such a task."

Fortunately, they had rods for each of the four elements.

I will not bore you with talk of the fishing itself, for descriptions of my constant victories would become monotonous after a while. I will tell you that I caught about ten prawns in an hour, a number that any respectable gentleman would be proud of.

Vile creatures, aren't they?

After completing our task, my uncle and I passed the prawns to a young lass who had more use for the prawns than we did. But before we left, I noticed that the fire magi had set up a clever device for frying the beasts they had captured then and there, beside the pool.

As we prepared to leave, I noticed that some of the wise men who seemed to run the place were unfurling a series of tarps that lined the prawn house.

I don't know how they knew it, but the heavens opened and drenched the area with a mighty slew of rain not ten minutes later. Though I don't know for sure how they knew it would rain, I wager that it probably has something to do with the uncanny way that the old prawn men can commune with nature.

Now my friends, I bid thee farwell, and I wish you luck on all your upcoming endeavors. I complete this task and move on to another, and I hope I am as successful in my quests as you are in yours. For what can the world hurl at us that can possibly give us pause? Us, with intimate knowledge of the delicate art of prawn fishing? Nature, I say thee nay! I defy your weak attempts to dampen my spirits, just as the mighty prawn defies the rod that hooks him! I will not go quietly into the night! Like the prawn, I will stand and fight! Carpe diem!