THE SECRET OF A FISHERMAN WHO ALWAYS CATCHES HUGE FISH USING A UNIQUE LURE, BUT WHEN THE GREEDY SYNDICATE WHO ROBBED HIS BANK ATTACKED HIM, A STUNNING EVENT OCCURRED

The sun was shining brightly on the shores of San Vicente, Palawan. Amidst towering coconut and pine trees and white sand, Mang Ruben’s small motorboat was docked. His ice was full of giant Apahap (Asian Sea Bass).

Each one weighed more than twenty kilos, equivalent to the proud catches of foreigners. While other local fishermen returned home with small galunggong or tamban, Ruben always brought home catches that seemed like world records.

Many wondered how he did it. Ruben did not have an expensive sonar or fish finder. His only tools were an old hook, thick nylon, and his favorite faded hat.

Because of his string of good luck, he attracted the attention of the wrong group. Kiko, the feared leader of a syndicate of dynamite fishermen, had long been jealous and resentful. The reef had run out of fish because of their reckless daily explosions, so they were interested in the old fisherman’s secret to make even more money.

At four in the morning, before daylight broke, Ruben quietly prepared his boat. But before he could turn on the engine, three men armed with .45 caliber and long knives violently boarded his boat.

“Don’t act badly, old man,” Kiko threatened as he pointed the cold steel of the gun at Ruben’s side. “We’ve been watching your movements for a long time. Now, you’re going to take us to your secret place. You’re going to show us what magic bait you use to catch such big fish. Or maybe you want me to make you food for the sharks?”

Ruben had no choice but to comply. They tied his hands behind his back with a rough nylon and made him sit on the side of the boat. One of Kiko’s men drove the engine based on the direction the old man was forcibly pointing.

They sailed for almost two hours to a remote part of the ocean that the ancestors called “Boca del Diablo” or Devil’s Mouth. It was a place where large limestone rocks and deep trenches of the dark ocean met.

“Is this where?” Kiko asked, looking around the extremely calm water. Not a single fish was jumping. There was no sign of life.

“Here,” Ruben calmly replied as he watched the current. “But the secret is not in the bait. It’s in the timing. The hook must be cast at exactly three o’clock in the afternoon.”

Page: SAY – Story Around You | Original story

Kiko’s men laughed out loud. “Time? Nonsense! There is no time for a man with gunpowder and fuse!” Kiko arrogantly took a large dynamite stick from his illegible bag.

“Don’t do that,” Ruben warned, his voice filled with a serious threat that a captive would not expect. “This underwater cave is a giant cave made of fragile rock. If you blow that up, the sea will get angry. You will be met with severe karma.”

“Karma? I am your karma now!” Kiko shouted while laughing. He immediately lit the fuse of the dynamite without hesitation.

At that moment, the syndicates were unaware that Ruben had been slowly rubbing the nylon in his hand against a sharp barnacle (taliptip) attached to the side of the boat. Because of their excessive boasting and focus on the dynamite, they did not notice that the old man had broken free from his bonds.

When Kiko threw the glowing dynamite into the water, Ruben quickly stood up. “You are the ones who catch your own greed!” he shouted, before diving with all his might to the other side of the boat.

The dynamite exploded in the deep part of the water. BOOOOOM!

A large column of water rose up. But instead of dead fish floating up, a terrifying sound of rock cracking echoed from the bottom of the ocean. The powerful explosion completely destroyed the thin limestone roof of a hidden underwater cavern. Because at exactly three in the afternoon—the time of the strongest pull of low tide—the cave collapse suddenly created a gigantic vacuum.

The water immediately swirled. A huge whirlpool formed right in the middle where the syndicate’s boat was positioned.

“Start the engine! Quick!” Kiko shouted in panic as he held on tightly to the side of the boat that was slowly being sucked down by nature.

“It won’t start, boss! The propeller is stuck in the broken coral that has risen!” cried his crew, turning pale in fear.

They could do nothing. The powerful force of abused nature did not choose between guns or courage. The Devil’s Mouth slowly sucked the entire boat, along with the greedy syndicates that had ruined the ocean for so long. They sank completely into the dark depths, carrying their own greed with them.

Meanwhile, Ruben floated about fifty meters away from the deluge. He knew the exact direction of the current and where it was safe to float when the Boca del Diablo sinkhole opened. He was clinging tightly to an old piece of bamboo that he had let drift before it all happened.

He silently watched the complete disappearance of the people who had tried to steal his life and livelihood. The sea calmed down again and the current regulated, as if grateful for the complete disappearance of social evils.

That was Ruben’s secret; he was familiar with the cycle of danger at sea, and he used the savages’ own weakness against them to achieve the cruelest justice. In the end, it proved that the biggest fish you can catch is the karma of your own wrongdoings.