Stay up to date with notifications from The Independent

Notifications can be managed in browser preferences.

Trending: The pretty straight guy and the sea

John Walsh
Monday 16 July 2012 18:12 EDT
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

According to the Daily Mail, Tony Blair has become "obsessed" with deep-sea fishing in exotic locations while waiting to return to Labour party politics.

"He's only interested in the biggest fish, though," said a friend. So how would Hemingway have pictured it? He was an old man who fished alone off a small skiff in the harbour. Local people said you could set your watch by the gringo with the Vilebrequin swim briefs who fished, night and morning, strapped to the deck of the Pretty Straight Guy. They looked at his once-boyish features, the caramel tan that never darkened, the manic eagerness of his handshake with strangers. They discussed the rumours they'd heard: he was a multi-millionaire; he was broke and in disgrace; he'd once been a big shot in British politics; he'd started a war and been a peace envoy, both in the Middle East (not, they conceded, very likely); he'd been President of Europe; he was so wise that men once paid half a million dollars to hear him speak for half an hour, including questions. They'd heard there was a bounty of $10,000 on his head.

Few spoke to him, for he talked in riddles. When a local fisherman asked if he preferred spinners or worms, he only murmured: "I used to have a cabinet full of both."

He was a little loco, perhaps, the result of drink. All day he swigged a fizzy moonshine grog called S. Pellegrino and made calls on his Nokia to someone called Alista. Even while fishing, strapped to his gurney, he still spoke to Alista, all day. A local eavesdropper, Carmelita, said he spoke in individual letters: "What's happening at the WTO?" he'd say. "They need a DG don't they? Or the IMF? Oh no, I forgot. How about the BBC? Oh really? Well then, how about OPEC? Can you ask them, PDQ?"

The locals marvelled at his failure to catch anything, ever. He was such a hopeless dreamer, such a fantasist.

Just imagine, they laughed to each other, if this man had ever been in a position to run a country…

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in