COD WARS - AND COD PEACE

Hello again, and welcome to November's edition of The Autolycan.

Strange story this month - apparently cod speak in regional accents.  Did you know that?  This matters, especially if you're a cod, because it means that when they migrate - as they do to find cooler waters - they may not understand the mating sounds other shoals make, threatening their ability to breed.  So, you should take the following short story very seriously.  Incidentally, and particularly for my American friends, the section of gibberish in the middle is a poor attempt to reproduce the Geordie accent which is prevalent in and around Newcastle upon Tyne.  You won't understand it, but then again, neither do I.

COD WARS – AND COD PEACE

Cod speak with regional accents, scientists believe

                                                                                                                Daily Telegraph

A beautiful Spring was giving way to what promised to be a long hot Summer in the Bay of Biscay. The Bay was dotted with picturesque little fishing boats and pleasure craft; the days were growing long, lazy and idyllic. This was the time of year for the phytoplankton to bloom, for the anchovy to multiply, and for the cod to spawn. But this year they hadn't. No cod had spawned. None. Some said it was because it was too hot.

Had you chatted with the sailors, fishermen and tourists on board the craft, you would quickly have realised that not a single one of them had any idea of the dire straits into which the cod world was plunging deep below them. To understand how dire, you need look no further than a bright and attractive young Atlantic cod named Codelia.

Codelia was a young, trim, shapely fish with a bubbly personality who was much sought after as a mate by some of the most eligible bachelors in the whole of the Bay. Like most of her girlfriends Codelia lived for the weekends. The working week was humdrum – swim, feed, swim, feed – but on Friday and Saturday nights she came vibrantly alive. There was music, dancing, laughter, glamour – and on a night such as this if the mood was right and the boys charming and attentive, who knew what might develop? One thing, she told herself delightedly, can lead to another, and another.... until spawning was only a heartbeat, albeit a frantic one, away!

On this particular Friday, though, she felt more lethargic than usual as she sat in front of her dressing table mirror. It had been unusually hot all week and she was tired, but she was sure that once she met her friends and felt that familiar arousal of her spirits which invariably came with the first drink or two her effervescence would return. It always did.

Her partner, Codfrey, swam in mopping his brow and she flashed him a brief smile as she went through the routine of choosing what she was going to wear and applying just the right shades of make up. It was working. The words of Amor Eterna floated through her brain. That indefinable tingle in her fins was definitely there. Perhaps..... perhaps, tonight would be the night. She would make Codfrey so proud.

'I feel pretty, oh so pretty,

I feel pretty and witty and bright.......

'Codfrey! Are you ready?'

But Codfrey hadn't moved – he lay slumped against a convenient undercurrent.

'Codfrey! What are you doing?'

'Sorry, love, I'm knackered. It's too hot. You go and enjoy yourself, I'll just stay here.'

'Codfrey!'

But he was not to be persuaded. The following night she made an extra special effort, but if anything he was even more lifeless. What could she do? She decided that on the following Friday she would take a firm hand. She'd throw a party for him. There would be cocktails – he was inordinately fond of Pina Codadas - and dancing. He loved the Pa-Cod-Oble, but their real favourite had always been the flamencod. How beautiful she would look in her long, flowing, ruffled skirt, and how handsome and sexy he always looked in his close fitting trouser! Surely this time.........

She snuggled up to him, her tail caressing his middle dorsal fin, just the way he liked it. She nuzzled his pectoral playfully with her upper jaw.

But when Codfrey remained unmoved, she took a momentous decision.

'I must go North' she determined, 'to cooler waters, perhaps there I'll find a new mate.'

She set off the very next day. She had no real idea where she was going, but soon came across a shoal of cod not far to the West of a long coastline. She approached with a mixture of apprehension and excitement.

'Buenas noches' she began 'Viengo de España....'

The males leered at her while the females looked sullen. One of the larger males swam up to her. He smelt oddly of garlic, she thought, but she had to admire his ability to keep a Gauloise alight, even under water. He removed the accordion from his neck, adjusted his beret and swam closer still.

'Bonjour, ma petite,' he murmured as he executed a perfect bow and kissed the back of her fin, 'I am - 'ow you say – enchanté - to make your acquaintance.'

He held her with his eyes – no easy matter when you've got one on each side of your head.

'Charmante. Absolument charmante. Peut-être, même séduisante........'

When he got no reaction he tried again in his very limited Spanish.

'Absolutamente encantadora......'

But his accent was so poor that she couldn't make out what he was saying. Perhaps this was not the shoal for her and, with tears in her eyes, she turned her comely tail and swam away to the North.

The waters were promisingly cooler when she encountered a wide river on her left, flowing

from a large land mass. It didn't take long before she encountered cod nearby, and again swam up to introduce herself.

'Buenas noches' she began again 'Viengo de España....'

'Come again, darlin?'

' España. Soy Español. Erm...I am..erm.. coming out of Spain.'

'Oh, Spanish! Well, well! Sangria, sand, sea and sex, eh, know what I mean darlin?'

'Qué?'

'Well, it is in Benidorm. Benidorm! Fantastic! We played tequila roulette every night last time. No idea who won. We was legless for days; mind you, we always are, aren't we, being cod, know what I mean?'

She recoiled from his lunge.

'Qué?'

'And the women! Phwooar! I even missed the England Spain game 'cos of them - that one where Lampard scored the winner. Course, Lamps wasn't the only one what scored that night, know what I mean? Mind, Sergio Ramos should have been sent off, dirty sod. Bloody Referee. Dutch, wasn't he. Probably bloody stoned. Well, they all are. I had to watch the highlights later when I'd sobered up. November I think that was, know what I mean darlin'?

If a cod can shudder, Codelia did. She didn't really understand what her new companion was saying, but knew it didn't feel right. Fleetingly, she thought of Codfrey, then realised her new companion was shouting. But what could 'Ingerlund, Ingerlund, Ingerlund!' possibly mean?

'Sorry' she said 'I go now. Erm....good bye.'

He puffed out his chest.

'Adiós!' he shouted proudly 'Adiós! I can get by in Spanish, you know. Listen – Oy! Manuel! Dos cervezas, pronto! Got it?'

She fled. But her next encounter was even less successful.

'Areet, bonny lass?'

'Qué?'

'Divvent get is wrang, pet, but tha's geet lush, like! Canny as oot!

'Qué?'

'Eeeh, ahm gannin te the booza. Fancy a bottle of the Broon, do ya? Ahm clamming an' all!'

Beginners' English classes at home hadn't prepared her for this at all.

'Sorry' she said, again 'I no understand. I go now. Erm....good bye.'

'Ahh! Divvent ye gan the noo....'

But gan she had. She swam feverishly, always keeping land to her left. Oh, Codfrey, Codfrey, what have I done? She swam and swam until she could swim no more. Finally she stopped, exhausted.

'Oh!' said a voice 'what have we got here then? Smashing to meet you, isn't it, my name's Codwalladr and I was just saying to Mrs Codwalladr, that's her over there, like, I said I wonder who that new fish there is, isn't it? Well, it's not every day we get a visitor, if you know what I mean, but there we are, Croeso y Cymru, oh, sorry, that's a bit of Welsh, isn't it, means Welcome to Wales, see, not all that many cod speak Welsh these days, but we like to keep it going, so to speak, anyway.........'

'Qué? Soy Español. Erm...I am..erm.. coming out of Spain.'

'Oh!! Spain, is it? There's lovely. Mrs Codwalladr and I used to love going to Albufeira - is that Spain or the other one? - no matter, it's lovely anyway, daffodils not a patch on ours of course, but there we are........'

'Por favor.....please..... I want to go home. Quiero Codfrey; quiero....I want..... Bay of Biscay.'

And as the hot salt tears started to flow, the Codwalladrs took pity on her. They asked about Codfrey, they asked about the Bay, and in her broken English she eventually got them to understand that the Bay was beautiful, the days were long, the sun was hot and that life was sweet.

'It is good life, la buena vide.'

The Codwalladrs looked at each other and – with a smile - they both nodded.

'One thing, dear' said Mrs C, casually, 'what about rain, only, you see, it's always raining here....'

'Always bloody raining......' put in Mr C.

'Language! They didn't teach you that at chapel......'

'Oh. sorry'

'…..and it gets so miserable being wet all the time' continued Mrs C 'you can't dry things out properly if you know what I mean, you get sick of wearing a cagoule all the time, sometimes you can hear a real loud sort of, well.....squelch from your fins.........'

'Squelch, yes'

'Oh, proper gets on your nerves.....'

Codelia didn't understand everything but grasped that her new friends wanted to be helpful and were asking about home.

'Home is very beautiful. Not much rain. Lots of sun. Plenty food.'

Mr C grinned, as only a cod can.

'Phytoplankton coming out of the gills, is it?'

'Qué?'

There was a hurried discussion between the Welsh fish, but the outcome was never in doubt.

'We'd like to come with you, dear,' said Mrs C 'we can show you the way of course, but then, well, we'd like to stay.'

'Oh! Si! Si!! Yes! Por favor...........'

And so they all swam down to the Bay, where Codelia and Codfrey were tearfully reunited.

Their romance blossomed as never before, to the palpable delight of the Codwalladrs. And so when the babies arrived, it seemed the most natural thing in the ocean for the new Mum and Dad to ask them to stand as codparents.

ANAGRAM CORNER  

BREXIT MEANS BREXIT.  PERIOD.

I NOTED EXPERT MAXI-BRIBERS