Chicken Soup for the Ocean Lover's Soul Read Online Free PDF Page A

heart.”
    Joycebelle Edelbrock

In Harmony
    I have no other wish than a close fusion with nature, and I desire no other fate than to have worked and lived in harmony with her laws.
    Claude Monet
    When we were growing up, my dad told us many stories about the islands he had learned throughout his life. The Hawaiians are people who love the land, sky and sea, and their existence depends on its harmony. The locals who grew up in the islands have a deep respect for their beliefs. We hear all kinds of tales and legends, and we choose to believe in them.
    For years and years, the locals thought the reefs and deep ocean surrounding the islands would always hold an abundance of fish. The reefs were full of manini, papio, kumu, mullet and weke, and the deeper water held the ulua and ahi.
    But times changed, and more people were living in the islands. Slowly, the people noticed that each time they went fishing, they came back with fewer fish. Some of these people depended on the sea to put food on their tables and money in their pockets.
    Everyone seemed to have problems catching enough fish—everyone except one man. All would watch him go out alone early in the morning and, as the sun began to set, he’d come home with more fish than anyone. How did he do it? They all asked each other questions, but no one wanted to ask him. No one seemed brave enough to follow and see where he went. It became more and more of a mystery, and the word began to spread. There was one fisherman who could bring in plenty of fish, while all others struggled to make a living.
    Eventually, the story reached the mainland where a sport-fishing writer heard about this Hawaiian fisherman. He was determined to find out how this man was able to accomplish what no one else could, so he flew to the islands and made a surprising discovery.
    On the island of Maui, he met a man with a gentle spirit who had a great respect for the sea. The sea gave him all that he needed, and he gave back part of what he had. This intrigued the writer enough to ask the questions no one else dared to ask.
    The fisherman sat him down on the cool evening sand and began his story. When he was done, the writer couldn’t believe what he had heard. The fisherman then quietly invited him to go out in the morning to see with his own eyes what his heart couldn’t believe.
    Early the next morning before the sun rose, the writer met the fisherman and climbed aboard the boat with his camera, determined to record the truth. They set off into the silent darkness with just a glimmer of light on the horizon.
    They had followed the coastline for two or three miles when the fisherman cut his engine. The fisherman explained to the writer that no matter what happened, he was not to talk, just watch. Going to the side of the boat, the fisherman slapped the side a few times. He waited for a few moments and did it again. Then shielding his eyes from the early morning rays, he pointed into the far-off distance. The only thing the writer could see on the glassy water was a ripple coming toward them.
    The rippling stopped, and the writer looked at the fisherman, who motioned him to wait. In a few moments, the fisherman leaned over the side and placed his hand in the water. Then from the depth of the sea, the writer could see something silvery coming toward the surface. He was shocked to see a five-foot barracuda. Unbelievable! And the fisherman had his hand in the water, just waiting. Speechless, the writer watched as the barracuda came up to the fisherman’s hand and allowed him to rub its head.
    When the barracuda swam away, the fisherman started up his engine and followed it. After a while, the barracuda began to swim in a big circle. The fisherman dropped his net inside the circle. Time passed, and finally the net was ready to be hoisted in. The fisherman looked through the catch, grabbed the biggest fish and dropped it into the water as the barracuda appeared to say thanks with a flip of its tail. The