The Catch
Paul Greenberg's The Catch is ostensibly the story of the Chilean Sea Bass, but the story of the Sea Bass is so epic that it's background characters include Augusto Pinochet, los artesanales - a generations-deep band of independent fisherman struggling to keep up with multinational conglomerates and fish-farms, modern day pirates, celebrity chefs, environmentalists, incompetent bureaucrats, and a giant squid.
With nowhere else to go but farther out to sea, los artesanales moved onto the abyssal waters of the continental slope. Bobbing around in small, brightly colored boats, they let their lines down farther and farther, all the way down into the Humboldt current, a frigid shunt of water that moves along the base of the Chilean continental slope at depths exceeding 5,000 feet. It was then that they began to haul out a strange fish they had never seen before.About the size of a German shepherd, the animal had an air of the prehistoric to it. Thick scales covered its body. It had large eyes, mounted near the top of its head. Those, combined with a set of sharp teeth jutting from an underslung jaw, gave it a kind of cross-eyed, Alfred E. Neuman grin. When the fishermen gutted them, they found their innards were as cold as the polar seas. Toothfish, it seemed, were using the Humboldt current to make their way from Antarctica up the Chilean coast.
Who knew the Chilean Sea Bass was the size of a German Shepherd? Not I. I used to sit near Paul at Mediarights.org, so I know that he has spent months researching this story because he was constantly disappearing for weeks at a time to Chile, the Falkland Islands, and other wayward ports. And by the way, the world is running out of fish. (If you've read this far, now is the time to click over to The Catch)


As much as unpredictably and tension fuel humanity's obsession with contests and sport, I believe we're also comforted by those whose performance we expect. Just as we all have food, clothing and music that elicit feelings of instant nostalgia, I'm reassured that the universe is in order when an athlete performs exactly as expected. The consistency of Lance Armstrong dominating Le Tour, Serena Williams (Anna who? Serena represents the pinnacle of human physical potential) winning a grand slam, Michael Jordan hitting the big shot in his heyday, even Takeru Kobayashi shaking down four and a half hot dogs a minute. Even losing is comforting - after a long solitary walk and falafel dinner last night I found myself in a Bay Ridge bar guzzling Bass and watching the Mets. They lost, of course. If they start winning I'm not sure what I'll do with myself.
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