The boat slowly made it's way through the water while we worked at bringing in the net. Even though I was in pretty good physical condition before making the trip to the Middle East, after about fifteen minutes of keeping the net straight while untangling it was about all my arms could handle at one time. We traded positions once or twice to even out the work load. Somewhere along the line, Pepinno said something from across the boat to me which was a pleasant surprise! I thought at first I must have been mistaken, but when he said it the second time, I was sure he was addressing me the way buddies and brothers address one another back home, by saying bro' instead of brother. I could faintly hear an (s) on the end of it, like it might have been plural, but I was sure he was saying bro! Once I was convinced of it, I said, "yea??," like, "what is it?" Instead of answering me, he repeated himself again, only louder this time, and with a much more noticeable (s) on the end of it. " Bros!, Bros," he was saying, as though I should've understood him. A little more perplexed by this time and hoping that he would some how explain what he wanted, I said, "yea?," again, also louder than before. He probably didn't even know what yea means and so he kept saying, "bros, bros." While our eyes were practically glued on each other, wondering what in the world we needed to do or say, right about when it looked as though he was beginning to loose his patience over the whole matter, he dropped what he was doing and came over to where I was manning the controls. With a look of exasperation on his face, he took hold of the throttle and moved it ahead to give the motor more gas. He then motioned with his arms that we needed to make the boat go faster. In other words, give it more gas!!, or bros which I think means faster. For some reason, I wasn't able to put two and two together and realize that he wanted me to speed up the boat... Besides thank you, yes and no, and I don't understand, I managed to learn how to say a new Greek word from it all, 'faster' (the hard way.) Regrettably, I think the confusion came from incorrectly thinking that I could communicate with him on a more personal level than what we'd been able to achieve using sign language...
Similar to the story of Peppino's fishing buddy, we weren't catching much either. Practically everything coming in on the net was to be discarded and thrown back into the ocean. After collecting the net, we made our way back to Anti-Paros; Peppino, to his house by the water, and me to a temporary room on the edge of a Greek island in the Mediterranean that I was very comfortably getting used to... At the end of the day, a very long day, we were only able to come up with a little under four kilos, or a little less than eight pounds of edible fish, not counting the calamari.
I'm not sure what Edward had been doing all this time. He'd mentioned something about going swimming on the island somewhere not far from the house. The next day, the person we originally spoke with who helped us get a room on the island at his cousin's place, paid us a visit and asked me if I'd like to go rabbit hunting with him in the sage brush, hillside territory that was just behind the house a ways. I could definitely see he was serious about it. He had a bandoleer of twelve gauge shot gun shells draped across his chest like he was going off to war or something. As I mentioned earlier, he couldn't speak English. I think his cousin, the land lady, helped me understand what he was saying... He had no dog and indicated that the rabbits were in the bushes, and would be popping there heads out just before dark. We were supposed to sneak up on them from a two track that wound its way up through the somewhat shallow hillside. He was the rabbit provider for his cousin who served it frequently at her restaurant. Unfortunately, I didn't watch her cook it from the beginning to know exactly how she did it, but I think, along with some Greek spices, she placed the rabbit rolled with flour in a pan and slowly simmered it. It was one of my favorite meals that she cooked while we were there.
In the quest for rabbit at dusk, her cousin and I walked quietly along the two track, but there were no rabbits in sight. A big owl flew up and he shot it down for some reason. I know that owls are good rabbit hunters too, maybe that's what possessed him to shoot it, all the more for him. I'd hunted a lot of rabbits back in Michigan and really didn't need the experience of shooting one anywhere else, but it was good to know how the islander's went about it. The acquisition of food in Greece and in other Mediterranean countries have few restrictions, codes and laws to regulate its approval for the market. Minus the chemicals, the food seems to taste much better without the regulations. I appreciated him letting me go with him, and in addition to catching fish and making wine, I learned a little more on how to survive on a Greek island in the Mediterranean.
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