Poetry - Ross Pearce



A Surprising Fishing Trip
The morning about forty years ago The summer had been near spun The fish had been so very scarce Father said, "We'll have another run" We were fishing from the cove of Maberly That lies on the straight shore When fishing on the fishing grounds It's exposed to all winds that roar There is no land that you can reach Just the broad Atlantic ocean behind You have to face these winds that blow This is the verdict all the time We soon prepared our little boat That was only some sixteen feet long Oars we had to power this boat A main-sail when winds were strong We rowed out to our fishing spot About two miles from land This is the berth we commonly used Chalky-cliff was its name The morning had been fairly good Some small clouds to the west To think a real cloud squall would appear You would have never guessed The fishing had been very poor We were using lines and bait Father said, "They may come along We'll set awhile and wait" I glanced at the Western sky The dark clouds began to roll I put on my oil-skin jacket It seemed to be getting cold Then I saw father fill his pipe He was looking out to sea Did not seem to see the clouds That were coming towards me He had been going fishing Since he was eight years old Never seemed to heed the clouds Nor the strong winds that blow Then I said to father boldly "That's a gloomy sky in there" He turned around very slowly And said "perhaps the wind will veer" The wind soon sprang upon us Not so hard when it began We put the oars across the boat To try and reach the land First we made little head way Then we met the full squall Our boat seemed to go astern And hail stones began to fall Then father said to me again "Watch the marks on the Southern land" I said "I am doing this" But not a bit we can gain. For about fifteen minutes the winds tossed us We rowed with all our might So suddenly it was clear again And not a cloud in sight We rolled into the nearest shore And was tired as could be Then put the kettle on the fire And got a cup of tea Refreshed by the cup of tea We then rowed down the shore Safe home again in the cove What could you ask for more.


Ross Pearce (1916-2001) Maberly Resident


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