A Boy, an Island, a Country
A Boy, an Island, a Country Tanner Clegg The water is high and flat and the canoe is pointed toward the gaps between the islands. The thatch rooftops on the houses on the islands comb the underbellies of lethargic clouds. Bubbles repopulate in water displaced by the small motor at the back of the boat. We are moving north and west. A small Bijagós man with a large fishing pole is sitting next to me. He casts, he lets the lure sink to the floor, he flips the rusted bail arm, he trawls. The fish match the clouds today, but he is patient. A bonga, which is something of a staple fish in the region, is deceived by the skittering jig, and the man is rewarded with 35 centimeters of lunch. He takes his knit cap off his head and dries the reel. Humans aren’t the bonga’s only predator: the fish is routinely caught in the maws of nurse sharks and saltwater crocodiles. Bonga are not, however, eaten by the saltwater hippos or manatees of the region. These oceanic mam...