There is something spiritual about spearfishing, dropping into the water you are first met with the cold and undulation of the swell.
You lie there floating face down in the water, feeling your body rise and fall with the waves as you stare down towards the depths below. Slowing your breathing you start imagining your descent, picturing that perfect fish and the perfect shot.
Your vision is focused on something in the water.
You struggle to keep your heart rate down as you see your prey beneath you, lungs filling with precious oxygen, diaphragm expanding as you take your last breath. You duck your head under the water, with a pull of the arms and a quick kick of the legs you start to sink, slowly but controlled you glide to the bottom.
And this is our world, the world of the Spearfishermen. It is quiet and peaceful. You lie on the bottom, watching the fish swim around you, looking up, you see the tall kelp stalks towering above you. Reaching up towards the light, towards the world you use to belong to. But no longer…