HLM -Chapter 1345 Silly Little Meng

After hearing his father’s words, Wang Bo laughed and explained, “No need to be sentimental. You can’t compare—the foundations are different. Our waters are just ordinary fishing areas, but this is the core of one of the world’s four major fishing grounds!”

“Also, although Iceland relies on fisheries as a pillar industry, it’s just to make money. Back home, we depend on fishing to survive. Can the fishing intensity be the same?”

His father gave a self-deprecating smile. “Right, I’m just the type to eat tofu without worrying, whether it’s salty or plain.”

Then he joined in the fish shooting, though with his bow, he couldn’t hit the big fish that surfaced.

Little Meng circled above Wang Bo for a while. Seeing Wang Bo struggling to hit the floating fish, it flapped its wings and took off.

Suddenly, like an arrow released from a bow, Little Meng swooped down from the sky!

Like an air-to-surface missile, it plunged toward the sea, its sharp talons clamping onto a big fish hiding among the waves. With a powerful flap of its wings, it lifted the fish into the air.

The fish was over half a meter long, with a light brown upper body, a pale belly, a deep black lateral line on each side, and a distinct black spot near the shoulder.

Seeing this, a crew member aboard the boat clapped enthusiastically. “Blackline cod! Your eagle is incredible—it actually caught a blackline cod!”

“Unbelievable!”

Blackline cod is a deep-sea cod, popular in North America and Europe. It’s usually caught with trawls, making it very difficult for seabirds to catch, let alone a non-professional bird like Little Meng.

This fish is also highly prized, among the top tier of cod. Originally abundant in the Newfoundland fishing grounds, the fish has become rare worldwide due to the depletion and collapse of those grounds.

Wang Bo took the blackline cod down. Little Meng’s talons were so strong that one had broken the fish’s spine. There were several holes in its body, and the flesh was shredded.

Wild cod are very lively, but after Little Meng’s attack, this one was nearly dead, with barely any strength to struggle.

Wang Bo stuffed a piece of dried meat into Little Meng’s mouth. Zhuang Ding, seeing it open its mouth to eat, was eager, and Princess got even more excited, jumping up to snatch the meat from Little Meng!

Without hesitation, Little Meng flapped its wings and smacked Princess on the head, sending her rolling across the deck. But Princess didn’t care—she got up and continued trying to snatch it.

Wang Bo helplessly took out another piece of dried meat and gave it to her. “Afraid now, huh? Always eating… Just wait until next winter—I’ll cook you in hot pot.”

Princess ignored him, carrying the meat to a corner and happily gnawing on it.

Little Meng, eating the meat, became even more vigorous, flying back into the air, ready to catch more fish.

But it wasn’t that easy. Few seabirds dare to snatch food from the waves—this is like “playing with fire.”

Little Meng had no experience, so it didn’t know. Seeing another fish surface in the waves, it swooped down again.

In a flash, a wave rolled over, and as Little Meng dived, it hit perfectly—smacked right into the water!

Seeing the situation was bad, Wang Bo didn’t have time to take off his clothes—he grabbed a nearby life jacket and jumped in.

A crew member blocked him. “Sir, don’t do that—it’s too dangerous! Come with me, we have a lifeboat!”

“No time!” Wang Bo pushed him aside and jumped decisively.

This was a yacht, and the deck was only three meters above the water. The jump was safe.

Little Meng isn’t a sea eagle or a gull—it’s not a water bird. Its feathers lack oil, similar to an osprey. Once in water, its feathers stick together, and without drying, it can’t fly.

If Wang Bo didn’t act, Little Meng would drown.

Luckily, he jumped just in time. Little Meng was washed over by the waves, and Wang Bo grabbed its neck and pressed it under his body, dragging it to the yacht like handling a stubborn dog.

Once back on deck, Little Meng was no longer imposing. It crouched, terrified, staring blankly at Wang Bo.

Wang Bo guessed its thought: “The ocean is too dangerous. Even if I’m mad, I won’t go in again!”

Zhuang Ding and Little Wang licked its feathers with their tongues. Little Meng looked like a drenched chicken—a pitiful sight.

Wang Bo wiped it with an absorbent towel. Its feathers dried quickly, but after the dogs’ licking, they were a mess.

Little Meng shook its wings and used its beak to smooth its feathers. Just as Wang Bo thought it had learned its lesson, it took off again, going after fish.

“This bird is a real fool!” Father Bo muttered helplessly.

Wang Bo was terrified. This time, they were lucky to save it. If they hadn’t found Little Meng in the first minute or two, it would have died in the sea.

He kept waving and shouting until he got Little Meng down. Afterwards, he carried it under his arm wherever he went.

The forecast showed no strong winds nearshore, so Wang Bo and his family spent the night on the yacht.

Winter is fishing season, and the North Atlantic is an important fishing ground. Even at night, lights flickered on the sea as fishing boats continued their work.

The yacht approached the boats to do business. The captain knew many of the crews, buying lobster, king crab, golden salmon, and rough scad—all the freshest seafood.

On the fourth day at noon, Christmas arrived, and they prepared to return. At that moment, a massive vessel appeared on the horizon.

The ship was about 70–80 meters long, 15–16 meters wide, moving like a stretched building on the water. Its waves rolled heavily; if the yacht got close, it could be overturned.

The captain smiled. “You’re lucky, Mr. Wang—you’ve encountered the Atlantic Red Shrimp!”

“What’s that?” Father Bo asked.

The captain explained, “It’s a shrimp-catching ship. Since you’re tourists, you’ll want souvenirs. I bet there’s nothing better than pure Arctic shrimp oil.”

Father Bo, a former seafarer, marveled. “That’s a huge ship!”

The captain nodded. “Yes, it’s a big ship—the Atlantic Red Shrimp weighs 3,751 tons, with 1.5-inch thick steel plating. The hull is designed like an iceberg—heavy and solid.”

Wang Bo asked, “Does it only catch Arctic shrimp? I heard it has a processing line, but I’ve never seen one—how does it work?”

“Yes. It has a production line. Arctic shrimp are immediately pre-cooked, graded, frozen, and packaged onboard. The whole process takes less than half an hour, then they are sealed to preserve freshness. Only high-quality shrimp are processed this way; small or damaged shrimp are used for other products, like Arctic shrimp oil.”