Even by Hilo standards, the rain that fell during the night

was especially heavy. The tuna catch was good, and the fishermen

were bringing in their haul early. By 6;30 A.M., several dozen

magnificent specimens of yellow fins were unloaded off the boats or

brought in by truck. The fish were hoisted by their tails and

weighed: some tipped the scale at 150 lbs. Then they were hauled

with gaffs, beginning with the largest ones, and laid out on rows

of great white pallets. An inspector from the Fisheries Department

examined the tuna and placed a label on each fish.

The inspector was followed by a man who took core samples by

plunging a thin metal tube under the fin, then carefully laying out

the suctioned meat on a sheet of paper. Buyers are able to

determine flavor and quality by the color of this sample.

In addition to the tuna, there were also squid, weighed in

lots of about 15 lbs. each, and put in boxes covered with ice.

There were also a half-dozen 3 foot-long Mahi Mahi, and a quantity

of smaller fish.

Everyone was working furiously against the clock. The fish had

to be sold, delivered, prepared or packaged for sale, all within a

relatively short time to preserve freshness. The workers wore back supporters over their aprons, and sloshed about in knee high rubber

boots.

Everything was constantly being hosed down, and the auction

area and its adjacent fish-market were remarkably odor-free.

The throng of onlookers locals and tourists crowded around

the roped off overhang, vying for good vantage points. The

auctioneer appeared a big, burly fellow with a Fu Man Chu

mustache and goatee ringing a huge bell that was loud enough to

waken the dead and shouting Hey! Hey! Hey!

The buyers approached the first row of pallets, and the auction began.

“Who’ll give me two dollah?”, he asked.

There was no answer.

“One seventy five?”

Silence.

“One fifty then!

One of the bidders raised an eyebrow.

“HEY!” exploded the auctioneer, “I’ve got one fifty. Who’ll

give me one seventy five?”

Another buyer inclined his head, ever so slightly.

“Hey!” bellowed the auctioneer, “I’ve got one seventy five!

Who’ll give me two dollah?”

The action was heating up. Each time someone indicated assent,

the auctioneer would shoot a forefinger and thumb at him and shout
Hey!”.

As buyers started bidding against each other, the accusing

forefinger and thumb waved quickly back and forth between them, and

explosive “HEY!s” punctuated the narrative.

When all the tuna were sold, there was some keen bidding on

the squid. One man lifted some of the slimy creatures for a closer

look, and ended up buying the lot of six boxes. There was hardly a

fight over the smaller fish, but fierce bidding erupted over the

mahis, which fetched what I thought was a very low price for such

a delicious fish.

Then the buyers claimed their goods, and the tuna were hauled

by gaffs in their gaping maws across the sidewalk to the waiting

trucks. After all the deliveries were made, the whole area was

hosed down once more. The entire spectacle lasted a little over an

hour.