Aegean fishermen are born and bred at sea -their agony and joy as they call it- and so attached to it that sea water seems to be running through their veins. Worn by the saltness and the encumbrance inhering in its belly, their hands like chiselled sculptures, taciturn and determined, creatures of the sea rather than the land, their fate is clasped to the sea, the great mystery as they call it. Once a fisherman always a fisherman, they say, thus evincing the family tradition in fishing as well as the man’s connection to the great mystery. The wage is a struggle, there is a lot of anxiety and snit and countless tempests. They work under the most unfavorable conditions, constantly exposed to humidity and saltness, with the least possible rest and no medical insurance. If the catch goes well, they will get paid. Otherwise, theirs is the only job where one might work hard, long hours without getting paid. The open sea calls the shots, as they say.