DAY 109 - KONJIC

Fishing or feeding?

7 August, 2011

Total: 1001.1miles—Total: 1,935,491 steps

“Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it.” Norman Maclean from the eponymous classic movie.

Konjic is located on the River Neterev, which is a rafting paradise as it is fed by fast flowing crystal clear water from the mountains. Where the river widens and slows, it is also an anglers dream each night and early morning. It reminded me of a scene from that wonderful movie about a family growing up in Montana and I began to reflect on the meaning of “Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it.”

As it was my last night in Konjic, I prepared for the demanding journey to Mostar the next day. To get in the right shape, I visited a rickety old wooden cabin called ‘Studenac’ which served great pizza at a very modest price. I had bought two loaves of bread from the bakery before arriving at the bar/restaurant and taking my place on the edge of the river which, with the full glare of the sun having settled behind the mountain ranges, I was able to examine the contents therein with amazing clarity. I became fixed on two fly fishermen, casting their flies across the surface of the water, and I wanted to leap in to warn the fish it was a trap.

Thinking this might cause a bit of a stir, I opted instead to start surreptitiously crumbling bread crumbs from my loaf and casting them gently on the water. As the fish initially watched the bread crumbs gradually sink to the river bottom, you could see that they were clearly puzzled—was this some cunning new plan to lure them onto the menu? Then one of the smallest fish simply darted forward, swallowed a large crumb, and dashed back into a clearly amazed shoal. Trust had been established. I was not there to catch them, I was there to feed them.

They learnt fast and soon I was attracting quite an audience, of fish, that is. Each time the fisherman would turn toward the riverbank, I would put my hand with the bread to my mouth and then as they turned, would sprinkle more bread on the water—it was like the fish and I were enjoying a hilarious private joke.

As the darkness closed, I reached for the last piece of the second loaf and, as the fisherman had departed from a fruitless evening on the river, I cast it on the water with impunity and the fish responded by breaking the surface to claim their prize.

I reflected on what a wonderful evening it had been of utter self-forgetfulness, forgetfulness of the mission and just having simple fun with two loaves and thirty to forty fish. Like the fishermen, we were both casting on the water, but they were fishing and I was just feeding. I began by contemplating the truth of one line from a movie and ended by contemplating another, from Ecclesiastes (11:1) Cast thy bread upon the running waters: for after a long time thou shalt find it again.