The Octopus Hunter

Photos by Gonzalo Vidal (all rights reserved).

Octopus HunterVladimir has always loved the sea, and felt it beckoning to him. You can often find him, as the sun is lowering in the afternoon sky, on the rough Alamar coast, dressed in his wet suit, goggles, snorkel and flippers, swimming up and down the rocky shore snaring octopuses or harpooning fish; or sat in the inflated inner tube of a lorry that at times serves as his boat, resting with his flask of coffee and obligatory packet of cigarettes, or trailing a nylon line and bated hook to tempt a fish into his clutches. Above all, he brings his untiring patience with him, sometimes continuing until dawn, if the catch has been slow to come. On occasions, if he considers the weather appropriate, or his marine instincts call to him, he will go out with his equipment in the mornings, to collect what he can find.

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In the city of tomorrow’s people

It is May 1958, and Albarrojo has returned to the start of the Malecón, and from there sees the crowds gathered to witness the opening of the long-awaited tunnel under the mouth of Havana’s bay, connecting the east to the city. Now no longer necessary to catch the ferry across to Casablanca, or make the long trek round past the port, past Luyanó, Virgen del Camino, Regla, Guanabacoa. In forty-five seconds, you can now reach the other side, emerge in the shadow of the Castillo del Morro, and continue eastwards to the new towns emerging. New homes for the middle class, becoming overgrown as the years go by with concrete blocks amongst the trees. Continue reading