*This story is in Tagalog
Iniisip ko pa rin ang nakatakas na huli ko sana.
Apat na taong gulang pa lamang ako ay nangingisda na ako. Nasa dugo ko na ang pangingisda. Nakarating na ako sa Pantabangan at Lumot para manghuli ng Apahap, sa Cebu para manghuli ng Tikos, sa Isla ng Mactan para manghuli ng Mameng at nakahuli pa nga ako ng Maya-Maya na saandaa’t dalawampung sentimetro ang haba. Ngunit hindi maihahambing ang mga ito sa isdang iyon.
Una ko iyong namataan malapit sa baybayin ng Anilao. Hindi ko iyon mawari. Mukha iyong malaking kalaso—mas malaki kaysa sa anumang nakita ko na. Karaniwang hanggang tatlumpung sentimetro lamang lumalaki ang isang kalaso, ngunit ang isang ito ay tila pating na lampas apatnaraang sentimetro, o baka nga mas mahaba pa roon.
Inabot nang ilang linggo bago ko naipon ang sapat na dami ng pain na kailangan ko. Mukhang malaking isda lang ang gusto nito, lalo na ang Dorado at Lapu-Lapu, ngunit hindi na ako nagulat. Sa tuwing iaahon ko sa tubig ang pain, may malaking kagat dito. Nilapa ang isda ng nilalang na may napakalakas na panga. Alam kong mangangailangan ako ng mas matibay na tali.
Bumangon ako ng alas tres ng umaga at naghintay. Isinabit ko ang pain sa pamansing at umupo ako nang dinarama ang malamig na simoy ng hangin sa madaling araw. Ito ang dahilan kung bakit gustong-gusto kong mangisda. Ang tahimik at payapang mga sandali, ang katiwasayan bago ang unos kapag inisip mo ang mga bagay na posibleng mangyari sa iyo. Palaging sinasabi sa akin ng aking ama na ang siyamnapung porsiyento ng pangingisda ay paghahanda. Masyadong matagal bago ko iyon natutunan.
Namataan ko ang palikpik nito pagkasikat ng araw. Batid kong tapos na ang oras ng paghahanda. Naghagis ako ng karne ng isda malapit sa pamansing. Naalala kong mahilig sa dugo ang isdang iyon. Inihanda ko ang sarili ko dahil tiyak na kakagat iyon, ngunit walang paghahandang sasapat sa nangyari.
Naputol ang tali. Hindi ko alam kung paano iyon nangyari, dahil ang ginamit kong tali ang pinakamatibay na nakita ko sa palengke, ngunit naputol pa rin iyon. Tatlong buwang paghahanda para sa wala.
Hindi ko na muling nakita ang isdang iyon, ngunit dumarayo ako sa Anilao paminsan-minsan para subukang masilayan iyon. Gusto kong muling bumisita ngayong taon ngunit ipinagbabawal ang pagpalaot sa pook-isdaan. May ilang bagitong mangingisda na natagpuang nalunod malapit sa kanilang mga bangka.
Iniisip ko pa rin ang huli sana na iyon, kung gaano sana kasarap sa pakiramdam na mabuhat iyon sa aking mga balikat. Ngunit hindi ako susuko.
Panibagong araw bukas. Marahil ay matatagpuan ko rin iyon balang araw.
Hindi ko naiintindihan kung ano ang natunghayan ko, ngunit alam kong mas mapanganib ito kaysa sa sinasabi ng mga tao. Mula noong bumalik ako sa Anilao ngayong taon para muling hanapin ang isdang iyon, mas maraming tao na ang natagpuang nalunod.
Mayroong magkasintahang turista na natagpuan sa may pantalan. Mukhang kumukuha sila ng mga litrato; hawak pa rin nila ang kanilang mga telepono noong inagos papunta sa dalampasigan ang kanilang mga labi. Ngayon lang nakakita ang mga tagaroon ng mga sugat tulad ng mga kagat na nasa kanilang mga katawan. Nakahanda kaming lahat na sabihing napakasamang aksidente nito.
Hanggang nagsimulang mawala ang mga surfer.
Limang kabataan sa kabuuan ang naiulat na nawawala mula noong umpisa ng linggong ito. Naakit sila sa mga along dala ng maulang panahon, at naisip nila na magandang pagkakataon ito para subukan ang mga along iyon. Para sa ilan, ito ang huling desisyong ginawa nila. Hindi pa rin natatagpuan ang mga katawan at naglabas na ng babala ang lahat ng resort na nagbabawal sa mga tao na pumunta sa tubig.
Naroon ako noong nangyari ang lahat ng pagkawala. Ibig kong sabihin, malapit ako noon sa dagat, at isinusumpa ko sa puntod ng aking ina na nasilayan ko ang mga palikpik sa mga pook kung saan naglaho ang mga taong iyon.
Maaaring nahihibang na ako para isiping mayroong kakaibang uri ng isda na may kinalaman sa mga nawawalang tao, ngunit ayaw mawala sa isip ko ng hinalang ito. Mayroong kaugnayan sa isa’t isa ang mga ito.
Mukhang hindi ako makakauwi, dahil parami nang parami ang nakikita kong ganoong palikpik sa dagat.
Tumigil pa nga ako sa pangingisda. Ayokong matulad sa mga taong iyon, at walang makikinig sa akin. Patuloy kong sinusubukang balaan sila, sinusubukang sabihin na masyadong mapanganib ang dagat para suungin ng kahit na sino. Hindi makikinig ang mga resort; masyadong malaki na ang nalugi sa kanila kaya muli nilang pinayagang pumalaot ang mga maninisid at mangingisda.
Gayunpaman, hindi ako titigil. Kailangang mabalaan ang mga taong ito.
Hindi lang iisa ang pares ng mga palikpik.
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English Version
I still think about the one that got away.
I’ve been fishing since I was four years old. The water’s in my blood. I’ve been to Pantabangan and Lumot to catch Bass, Cebu to catch Tikos, Mactan Island to catch Wrasse and I’ve even managed to catch a 120 cm long Maya-Maya. But none of them compare to this.
I first spotted it off the coast of Anilao. I didn’t know what to make of it. It looked like a large lizardfish, larger than any I had ever seen before. Typically a lizardfish only reaches a maximum of 30 cm but this looked more like a shark that was well over 400 cm, maybe more.
It took me weeks to come up with the amount of bait I needed. It only seemed to like large fish, Mahi-Mahi and Grouper most especially, though I couldn’t be surprised. Every time I fished the bait out of the water there was a giant bite taken out of it. The fish were ripped apart with incredibly sharp jaws. I knew I was going to need a stronger line.
I got up at 3 am and I waited. I strung the bait on my line and I sat in the cold early morning air. This is why I loved fishing. It was about the nice quiet moments, the calm before the storm when you can think about every eventuality that might come your way. My dad always told me that 90% of fishing is preparation. I took too long to learn that lesson.
I saw a glimpse of its fin right after sunrise. I knew the time for preparation was over. I threw some chum near the line. The fish had a taste for blood, I remembered. I braced myself for the inevitable bite and nothing could have prepared me for what happened.
The line was cut. I don’t know how that could be, it was the strongest one I could find on the market, but there it was. 3 months of preparation all for nothing.
I never saw that fish again, though I sometimes take trips to Anilao to see if I could spot it. I wanted to go again this year but the fishing grounds were off limits. A couple of amateur fishermen were found drowned by their boats.
I still dream about that catch. How it would have been amazing to carry it on my shoulders, but I won’t give up.
Tomorrow is another day and maybe someday I will find it.
I don’t understand what I stumbled upon, but I know for a fact it’s more dangerous than people let on. Ever since I returned to Anilao this year to find that fish again more people have been found drowned.
There was the tourist couple who was found by the dock. They looked like they were taking pictures, they were still holding on to their phones when their bodies washed on shore. The bites that appeared on their bodies weren’t like anything the locals had seen before. We were all prepared to say it was a terrible accident.
That was until the surfers started disappearing.
5 young people in total had been reported missing since the start of this week. The rainy season had made the waves enticing to them, and they thought it would be a good chance to try them. For some, it would be the last decision they ever made. The bodies still haven’t been found and the resorts have all issued a warning for people to stay out of the water.
I was there for each of the disappearances. I mean I was by the sea, and I could swear upon my mother’s grave that I saw a glimpse of the fins in the areas where those people disappeared.
I may be crazy to think that some kind of fish has something to do with missing people, but my instinct is shouting in my head. There has to be some connection between them.
I don’t think I’ll make the trip back home, because I keep seeing more and more of the fins around the waters.
I’ve even stopped fishing, I don’t want to end up like those people, and no one will listen to me. I keep trying to warn them, trying to say that the waters are too dangerous for anyone to go in. The resorts wouldn’t listen, they were losing too much money and they reopened the waters for divers and fishermen.
I won’t stop though. These people need to be warned.
There are more than one set of fins.
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**Tagalog is an Austronesian language spoken as a first language by a quarter of the population of the Philippines and as a second language by the majority. Its standardized form, officially named Filipino, is the national language of the Philippines, and is one of two official languages alongside English.
Written by Karl Gaverza
Translation by Maui Felix
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Maui Felix
Story inspired by the Siyokoy entry in Creatures of Philippine Lower Mythology. Ramos. 1971.
Illustration by Leandro Geniston from Aklat ng mga Anito
FB: That Guy With A Pen
Watercolor by Mykie Concepcion
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