Uruguay River Fishing

Like all PIA born inside, I grew up in the midst of the jundiá fisheries, lambari, yams, scab, a culture of fishing terms that different misturazinha on the weekends. That there in Tarumã, as far as I know, these days an unfortunate riozinho which has suffered droughts absurd, that disappear with almost all the water. But I miss you! …
With 17 years in 1979, I moved to Chapecó and got a job. As a teenager, to tell you the truth, I miss those simple fisheries, but not really felt encouraged to go to the Uruguay River, perhaps for fear of what they spoke of violent and dangerous waters, and perhaps also because it no longer had that need to get a different mix, when PIA.
The years have passed, and only had Miss honey Tarumã, boy. Married 29 years, mature man, many friends, including those who lived calling me to fish in the River Uruguay. You Guinea bastards for good, party girl, living fishing … until I decided to accept an invitation and I went to this. “But I don’t have stuff, I have no stick, nothing”. My friends had reel, caíco (boat), motor, everything. Come on. I took a hand line.
“That fishing!” Background: yellow painted fish, big mouth, pati, mandi. How much joy! Why had not gone before? How many fish we brought. Distribute to neighbors, friends, the way you had. My days of PIA there in Tarumã came into nostalgia. Oh my friends! … From then on, whenever possible I was there in the old Uruguay, with its waters “bravas”, strong, dangerous, no matter, fishing with my friends. I’m still scared of water, but the Uruguay became my friend. And friend we trust. Increasingly fishing entered definitely in my veins. And wanted more, more and more. Up to the Mato Grosso spent to go in search of new specimens of my trophies. They talked too much in large, large painted gold, big, big, big, big … until boat and engine with electric starter and everything I bought. All for such fishing. What magic has this thing, in fact, crazy thing, maybe? But even there in Mato Grosso, I hadn’t been able to catch the expected big fish, the dreamed douradão, what every fisherman wants, fishing a big fish. I don’t know why, but the way you spoke about Mato Grosso came to frustrate me and comforted me already that here, I repeat, here in Uruguay, my old fisheries were even better. And that not too long ago, back in 1996. Only nine years ago. And it’s not that I was right? Big golden, for real, it’s here, at least I had … In abundance. Until then we just didn’t know the right way to fish. And I say with certainty that other fishermen here in the region the story looks like, or at least was. Here my brothers! Here were the Giants really yellow in our old friend, the Uruguay River. That barbarity.
Fact is that I fell in love with the fishing, the River Uruguay. I’ve made a lot of friends on its waters. These waters that helped open up the State, took and brought progress, generated wealth, fed so many people … Anyway, I met your story, how to do it with a great love, know to treat well. Past history by word of mouth, from fishing in fishing. And the gold, that giant bravo and jumper, believe me, I even spoke about him I know, decor and sautéed, of so many and how many passed to fish the giant Golden, both. And each time your other friends. With so much time spent along the old Uruguay, not only me, my colleagues, a lot of people, we see such Jewish quarter they were doing with our old friend. Trash running, treacherous networks, deforestation, barrancas falling apart … And how much evil. You know what we did? Create an entity to help contain that Jewish quarter, because I felt there in 1997, everything that would put at risk the same passion that there appeared one day and which man alive does not protect your love, your passion? There was born the AARU. But look at that time or we thought still in decline. We wanted to protect the river. Because we used our leisure. But the thing evolved. And for the worse. There are just under five years, every day, much less fish comes attending in hooks. Nowadays, even more big mouth, painted yellow fishing, pati. In fact, unfortunately not get with that ease of nine years ago. Nine years only. I dread to think how it was 20, 30, 50 years ago. I wonder what happened with our fish? What can we do? What direction to take? It is not enough to speak only to replant trees, nor to combat pollution, not only to denounce the cruelties? Our neighbors have done the homework, in argentina. And get our money, when we go out there fishing. And if it were the other way around? Do not fill us with pride? Of pleasure? Of satisfaction in being able to fish always, close to home? spending little, in fact, our bordering and hotels would be keeping “las platas” rather than pay?
Back to our story, in which the old friend Uruguay River was a main protagonist, feeding and bringing wealth to our ancestors from generation to generation, what can we deduce? Nowadays, even lame, sick, frail, been providing emotions, few, but emotions still in the fisheries of weekend …
We, our generation, this who discovered the method of catch the Golden giant, we’d be these, those ungrateful to let him die? We’re not going to bail out this old friend? What friends are we? We’d haul it in our consciousness? And our children? And grandchildren? That image will have to us? …

Valmor Danielle-President of the Association of friends of the River Uruguay of Chapecó-SC (AARU)