After dark: night fishing in Maratea, Italy

I look ahead and all I can see is a vast expanse of darkness, my eyes strain, but nothing — not even the stars are out to illuminate our way. My chest tightens and I’m overwhelmed by the engulfing silence.

A heavy figure looms towards us, accompanied by the chugging undertones of a small engine. A few mumbled words are exchanged, the vessel is steadied, and I scramble aboard with my mum, who is accompanying me on the trip.

We are here to join Michael (pronounced Michaela with Italian flare), a local fisherman, on a trip to sea with a difference in Maratea, a small coastal town in the rural Basilicata region of Italy. However, unlike any other fisherman I’ve encountered, Michael only casts his line at night. This night-time fishing excursion has been organised by nearby Hotel Santavenere, our base for the weekend.

I turn to look back over my shoulder as the boat sets off, and watch as the harbour fades away. I gaze at the yellow lights dancing along the shoreline, rising and falling like the final encore performance of the evening.

I soon learn that there’s something eerie about floating on the open sea after hours, when all is quiet and the hustle and bustle of the day is tucked away until morning. I shut my eyes and listen to the gentle caress of water nuzzling against the wooden panels beneath my seat, and am comforted by the steady rocking motion of the boat.

Michael stands steady atop the small boat, like a grand figurehead leading us upon our unfamiliar voyage. He has been doing this for 30 years — as have the generations of men in his family before him.

"It’s [the boat] 52 — older than me," jokes Michael, as he steers the boat’s udder absent-mindedly with his booted heel, cigarette held firmly in his mouth.

In the helm of the boat, some 250 hooks are securely braided onto a long fishing line, interspersed with an eclectic selection of make-shift buoyancy aids. Plastic bottles, bags, balls and a number of unidentifiable objects cling to the line. Each hook has been carefully pierced with a piece of octopus — a process that, I’m told, takes two full days. For such a rugged man — the fishing line is a delicate work of art.

"Here we are," he says, slowing the engine as his dexterous hands nimbly twist and turn the mile-long fishing line into the Italian waters. I peer around in the darkness, wondering how on earth he has any idea where we are.

"By the shoreline, of course," replies Michael, as if it’s clear daylight and the spot has been marked by a large florescent sign. I squint hard, and can just make out a few speckled lights on the bank. It takes an hour to cast the line out.

He sets sail almost every day of the year; come rain, wind or lightening.

"I have two daughters to pay for, and daughters are an expensive privilege," he smirks.

The lines are left in the waters overnight and my mum and I return to Hotel Santavenere for the evening. We are invited back just after sunrise the following morning to see the results of Michael’s labours.

I’m amazed at the variety of fish we catch: cernia (grey scales and lips like Mick Jagger); pezzogna (plentiful along this stretch of coast); and fragolino (also known as ‘little strawberry’ for its pink-tinged scales). Michael will sell the night’s haul to friends and family.

We pull back into the harbour and wave goodbye to our friendly seafarer — but not before he gestures to a large shiny yacht. Mistaking his meaning, I nod my head and roll my eyes at its presence.

"I much prefer our boat too," I say.

"No, you eat this on there," he says, handing me a small bag of fish.

"The boat belongs to a friend of mine," he says, grinning.

I turn and see a suave gentleman smiling and waving at us from behind designer sunglasses.

I thank Michael and jump aboard the luxury vessel — keen to see what other secrets this undiscovered coastline has to disclose. What a wonderful start to the morning, I think to myself while enjoying, quite possibly, the best seafood spaghetti I’ve ever tasted.

Read a full review: Hotel Santavenere

Victoria was staying at Hotel Santavenere (0039 09 7387 6910; santavenere.it). Night fishing, among other activities and excursions, can be booked through the hotel reception. Prices available upon request.