He waited for the right Moment, for the fish to appear on the end of this almost invisible line. If he was lucky enough, the fish would be of the "wrong" kind, the species humans did not like to get into their buckets.
He would then wait for the stunned and confused fish to be thrown back into the water. This would be the perfect moment to just pick up this little snack.
He knew he had to be careful with every one of his moves. He was not alone there... many hunted this early in the morning...

Slow hunting was one thing, of course. Soaring over the buildings, the bay, the ocean, was what this was really about. He would speed over the water, looking for the slightest movement underneath the surface...

Today I am glad not to be the size of a fish.