Mercy at sea. A battle running like the wind. The crewmen waiting for it, hunting in the northwest wind. Souls and arms upon an animal. A yellow fin, fertile and fast coming back to these Mediterranean horizons, year after year. Irrepressible homing instinct--tuna, time, nets and the men who hunt. Then suddenly the moment, the cry, the rais shouting ”mattanza”!!! Grace and feast. Incitement and shiver. Blood and Water. Death and Flesh. It’s Respect, history, life Nourishment. Sea.
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