Fishing on the Esquilinus
Oct 5, 2011 21:10:28 GMT 10
Post by James Calmara on Oct 5, 2011 21:10:28 GMT 10
1420
River bank
Esquilanus
Carefully baiting a line in the mid-afternoon sun, Calmara closed his eyes for a moment, soaking up the sun that was beating down on the back of his drab green t-shirt that and the boonie hat were the only militarily-issue parts of his attire, he’d borrowed a pair of local sandals for his feet and had on a pair shorts he’d purchased in the Bahamas. He was thankful it had turned out a good day weather-wise, he wasn’t the only one; the locals were thanking the gods that the expedition’s latest visit was blessed with fine weather.
The Esquilaian culture was an odd mix from an earth point of view. They seemed to have harnessed water power similar to a pre-industrial revolution level and there was a certain level of mechanization. But still retained classical elements in there culture, such as there architecture and there dress. They had been under Olympian control for century’s, and seemed to accept that as their lot in life. Until they began hearing reports of newcomers who opposed the Olympians, the delta expedition, the leaders planed and carried out an uprising. Although this was well planed and well timed, the Olympians were contending with both the delta expedition and a number of uprisings on other worlds at the time, it left there society in ruins as the Olympians killed and destroyed as much as they could before leaving them to fend for themselves as punishment.
An exploration team had come across them several moths ago and quickly learnt what had happened to the Esquilaians. An aid plan was drawn up and over the past few months the expedition has been helping this culture rebuild and get back on its feat.
The supply drop and the measuring for the group that went to the planet, which was possibly the awkward part of the trip, had taken most of the morning. But the Esquilaians did there best to make it as easy and as pleasant as possible. For the fishing trip itself they had provided a number of guides who among other things had made sure they had equipment, and then took them to the best spot, which happened to be about half a mile up river of the capital itself. At present there guides were mingling with them, explaining the basics of how to fish where it was needed, and generally enjoying the company of the expedition members
Calmara was using a borrowed native rod and line, an exquisitely carved wooden rod with a delicately carved wooden reel mechanism. It operated a little different to the sport rods that were available back on earth. But after a little tuition the engineer was beginning to get the hang of it. Thankfully casting a line was done the same way.
He momentarily glanced across at Doc’s Mckillop and Martin who had come on this little trip, and were close by, he was quite sure Major Oxford was near-by also but out of sight at the moment. He ginned at the doc’s before sitting himself down on the bank in a relatively comfortable spot, where he could cast from and still converse with fellow expedition members. Flicking his wrist and arm forward he sent the line snaking through the air and then down in to the river. “Now this is the life. Work and play all rolled in to one neat little package.” He commented allowed, although not to anyone in particular, he was hoping for a response from someone.
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