Several weeks ago and before the destruction of Dey Krahorm, we organized a weekend with a group of friends to do some deep sea fishing off the southern coast. While I didn't want to be away from Aziza so soon after the eviction, I also knew that I needed a mental break. So on Friday at 3am, a group of twelve of us met at Savin's family's restaurant to meet our chartered van (we decided to leave at such a bizarre time because of a friend's birthday the night before and the need to be on the boat at first thing in the morning on Saturday). It was a quick ride - only three and a half hours - but the van wasn't the most comfortable for stretching out to get some extra sleep.
At 7am we checked into the guesthouse where we would be spending the night, picked up a few supplies (water, beer, breakfast) and went to meet our captain for the day. Brian, a large - in all senses of the word - Kiwi in his late fifties or early sixties with a big, gold, pirate-style hoop earing in his left ear, walked out of his bar/shop, The Fisherman's Den. He put on a shorty-style motorcycle helmet and hopped on his motorbike, complete with a sidecart. He appeared to be the perfect deep sea fishing captain.
After a short ride through Sihanoukville and past the main port, we arrived at the dock and boarded the fairly traditional Cambodian fishing vessel; made almost entirely of wood and about sixty feet long, painted a mix of blues, from the vibrant aquamarine that mimicked the clear, shallow waters of the tropics to a deep royal blue. A crew of two Cambodians started baiting ten rods as most of us climbed a steep ladder and settled on the warm, sun-soaked terrace above deck. Within a few minutes we were on our way out into the Gulf of Thailand.
Not five minutes into our journey, one of the two lines trolling the waters caught. One of the Cambodian crew rushed over to start reeling our potential catch in. Our friend Josh scurried down the ladder to take over the reel from the crew. Fifty meters behind the boat, a large fish thrashed at the surface of the water. Surely that couldn't be the one Josh was reeling in... Yet it was. After a brief struggle, we had dinner and a three and a half foot barracuda on board.
Once the initial excitement passed, we sank back into the deck chairs on the terrace. Sihanoukville slowly faded as we rumbled past some of the smaller offshore islands and made our way to Koh Rung Samleom, a fairly sizable island about two hours off the coast. Split five to each side of the boat, we dropped our lines, baited with squid, shrimp, and small fish, to the bottom, about 100 feet down. Sporadically, we caught an assortment of small fish, none more than a foot long, but each with beautifully intricate coloring. As soon as we caught a fish or had had our bait taken, one of the two deckhands was immediately besides us, removing the fish or re-baiting our hook. Their attentiveness was quite impressive. We kept most of what we caught, either as bait or as dinner once we returned to Phnom Penh.
At around noon, we took a break from fishing and took a dip in the water by a deserted beach. The water was cool but refreshing and my feet enjoyed the feel of the defined ridges of soft and pristine sand formed by the waves. We swam about, snorkeled, threw a frisbee around, and sat on the beach and let the waves splash through us. Even Brian went for a swim in a bright red speedo that was a bit too revealing.
The crew called us back on to the boat after an hour and greeted us with lunch: a delicious hearty beef and potato stew with baguettes. Accompanied by a beer, lunch was all the better. After lunch and a much needed catnap above deck, we resumed our fishing. For the remainder of the afternoon, we caught only small fish of less than a foot each, but at a pretty good rate of close to ten each. As the sun started to set and sparkle upon the water, we headed back to port. It had been a wonderful day already and we still had our barracuda dinner to look forward to.
After a shower and a change we were back at the Fisherman's Den, this time for dinner and what a feast it was. Brian had the perfect batter for the barracuda - flavorful but light and crispy - to go with chips and salad. And there was so much of it! As hungry as the thirteen of us were, we couldn't even finish the one barracuda. That said, several of us did manage to find room for the Italian-style gelato across the street from our guesthouse.
I had only been fishing a few times before in my adult life and I'd never been deep sea fishing, let alone deep sea fishing in the tropics. There were few things I've done that have been more satisfying or relaxing. Sitting at the stern of the boat, reel in one hand, beer in the other, with the sun warming my back and the breeze cooling it, was simply delightful, and the perfect respite from the bustle of dusty Phnom Penh.
At 7am we checked into the guesthouse where we would be spending the night, picked up a few supplies (water, beer, breakfast) and went to meet our captain for the day. Brian, a large - in all senses of the word - Kiwi in his late fifties or early sixties with a big, gold, pirate-style hoop earing in his left ear, walked out of his bar/shop, The Fisherman's Den. He put on a shorty-style motorcycle helmet and hopped on his motorbike, complete with a sidecart. He appeared to be the perfect deep sea fishing captain.
After a short ride through Sihanoukville and past the main port, we arrived at the dock and boarded the fairly traditional Cambodian fishing vessel; made almost entirely of wood and about sixty feet long, painted a mix of blues, from the vibrant aquamarine that mimicked the clear, shallow waters of the tropics to a deep royal blue. A crew of two Cambodians started baiting ten rods as most of us climbed a steep ladder and settled on the warm, sun-soaked terrace above deck. Within a few minutes we were on our way out into the Gulf of Thailand.
Not five minutes into our journey, one of the two lines trolling the waters caught. One of the Cambodian crew rushed over to start reeling our potential catch in. Our friend Josh scurried down the ladder to take over the reel from the crew. Fifty meters behind the boat, a large fish thrashed at the surface of the water. Surely that couldn't be the one Josh was reeling in... Yet it was. After a brief struggle, we had dinner and a three and a half foot barracuda on board.
Once the initial excitement passed, we sank back into the deck chairs on the terrace. Sihanoukville slowly faded as we rumbled past some of the smaller offshore islands and made our way to Koh Rung Samleom, a fairly sizable island about two hours off the coast. Split five to each side of the boat, we dropped our lines, baited with squid, shrimp, and small fish, to the bottom, about 100 feet down. Sporadically, we caught an assortment of small fish, none more than a foot long, but each with beautifully intricate coloring. As soon as we caught a fish or had had our bait taken, one of the two deckhands was immediately besides us, removing the fish or re-baiting our hook. Their attentiveness was quite impressive. We kept most of what we caught, either as bait or as dinner once we returned to Phnom Penh.
At around noon, we took a break from fishing and took a dip in the water by a deserted beach. The water was cool but refreshing and my feet enjoyed the feel of the defined ridges of soft and pristine sand formed by the waves. We swam about, snorkeled, threw a frisbee around, and sat on the beach and let the waves splash through us. Even Brian went for a swim in a bright red speedo that was a bit too revealing.
The crew called us back on to the boat after an hour and greeted us with lunch: a delicious hearty beef and potato stew with baguettes. Accompanied by a beer, lunch was all the better. After lunch and a much needed catnap above deck, we resumed our fishing. For the remainder of the afternoon, we caught only small fish of less than a foot each, but at a pretty good rate of close to ten each. As the sun started to set and sparkle upon the water, we headed back to port. It had been a wonderful day already and we still had our barracuda dinner to look forward to.
After a shower and a change we were back at the Fisherman's Den, this time for dinner and what a feast it was. Brian had the perfect batter for the barracuda - flavorful but light and crispy - to go with chips and salad. And there was so much of it! As hungry as the thirteen of us were, we couldn't even finish the one barracuda. That said, several of us did manage to find room for the Italian-style gelato across the street from our guesthouse.
I had only been fishing a few times before in my adult life and I'd never been deep sea fishing, let alone deep sea fishing in the tropics. There were few things I've done that have been more satisfying or relaxing. Sitting at the stern of the boat, reel in one hand, beer in the other, with the sun warming my back and the breeze cooling it, was simply delightful, and the perfect respite from the bustle of dusty Phnom Penh.
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