Here’s a passage from Sylvia Taylor’s The Fisher Queen that particularly struck me:
Everything was bare and spare and hard. Couple that with almost constant lurching, bouncing and bangs , and enormous amounts of water and slime, and you had a perfect studio for hematoma art with you as the canvas. Each technicolour lump was brushed with colours from hell’s sunsets: obsidian, aubergine, vermilion, puce. They were war wounds and medals to display and tell stories about on harbour days. One thing for certain, fishing was not a good vocation for a hemophiliac or people with bird bones. (p. 100)
Bird allusions aside, I frequently sport technicolour skin just from walking through my house, let alone bouncing on a rocking boat.
The remark about haemophilia reminded me of a photo I found quite amusing back when I was an exchange student. It’s of Czar Alexander fishing at his country house in Langinkoski, which was a few blocks from my 4th host family’s house. Alexander’s grandson, the famous haemophiliac Alexsi who was under the care of Rasputin, probably could have handled fishing this way. (Alexander is busily fishing there on the left of the photo… 😉 )