| Random Chronicles Icy Cold Watery Grave |
| New Hampshire Writers |
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| From the creative mind of a New England fisherman comes... |
| Out Of Order Tales From The Sea by Billy |
Loud music blares threw the deck stereo. The boat lurches as she's turned hard over to port, the diesel engine
goosed it's raw horse power, black smoke rolling out the exhaust heading now south she comes up to speed. Over
a wave the next crashes on the bow deck two hundred thirty miles from port four men test themselves, the boat they
work and the oceans forever changing mood. Hundreds of feet below swallowed up in an obis of darkness lobsters
continue their search for food as we continue to search for them.
Days, night and all hours in-between filled with noise of work being done, haulers turning, the rope screaming in
agony ripped from depths of over a thousand feet. Traps hitting the hull revealing their content to cheers and
sometimes dismay. Rest for equipment and man a like often forgone in hopes of better bottom lines, filled lobster
tanks, shorter trips to sea and stories of successful returns to port. Driven by pride, greed and an need to better
ourselves next time out we know how fully capable we are.
Scarred, tired and battered hands secure loose laying items around the deck who's fate of an icy cold watery grave
rest as far away as the next rogue wave. Heads on swivels we do our work threw some of the worlds worst working
conditions safety dependent on the other three men as the depend on you for theirs. A job survived, a job
completed, a job very much unlike others, a good living is made. A special certain type of person steps onto a boat
full well knowing his return not promised, his life not in total danger but a valid, plausible risk non the less of
returning injured or not returning at all still looms.
I as well as many others take this risk in stride knowing full well something else would somehow leave us incomplete.
Commercial fishing a drug not often giving up easily, no rehab to be found, the disease terminal. Even when others
move on both in spirit and body their time spent on the ocean will poison their conscience and dreams until their last
breathe.
But hey that's cool everybody makes their own deals.
goosed it's raw horse power, black smoke rolling out the exhaust heading now south she comes up to speed. Over
a wave the next crashes on the bow deck two hundred thirty miles from port four men test themselves, the boat they
work and the oceans forever changing mood. Hundreds of feet below swallowed up in an obis of darkness lobsters
continue their search for food as we continue to search for them.
Days, night and all hours in-between filled with noise of work being done, haulers turning, the rope screaming in
agony ripped from depths of over a thousand feet. Traps hitting the hull revealing their content to cheers and
sometimes dismay. Rest for equipment and man a like often forgone in hopes of better bottom lines, filled lobster
tanks, shorter trips to sea and stories of successful returns to port. Driven by pride, greed and an need to better
ourselves next time out we know how fully capable we are.
Scarred, tired and battered hands secure loose laying items around the deck who's fate of an icy cold watery grave
rest as far away as the next rogue wave. Heads on swivels we do our work threw some of the worlds worst working
conditions safety dependent on the other three men as the depend on you for theirs. A job survived, a job
completed, a job very much unlike others, a good living is made. A special certain type of person steps onto a boat
full well knowing his return not promised, his life not in total danger but a valid, plausible risk non the less of
returning injured or not returning at all still looms.
I as well as many others take this risk in stride knowing full well something else would somehow leave us incomplete.
Commercial fishing a drug not often giving up easily, no rehab to be found, the disease terminal. Even when others
move on both in spirit and body their time spent on the ocean will poison their conscience and dreams until their last
breathe.
But hey that's cool everybody makes their own deals.