Out Crabbing

Amy Whitehouse amywhitehousepaintings.blogspot.com

Amy Whitehouse amywhitehousepaintings.blogspot.com

I ride the Whaler
as if she is a bucking
bronco She falls under
me as if into a great abyss
then rises into the sky
a phoenix from ashes
I am awash in sea

water Her motor
screams as the prop
churns in the clean air
`til we fall again Children
from that walnut limb
in the old back yard
of our childhood

The old yellow dog
squating somewhere
between the crab pots
is too horrified to sit Too
terrified to stand Nary
a soft whimper to say
To Hell with the Sea!


About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
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7 Responses to Out Crabbing

  1. seems we both had heavy seas in mind today – (what a terrible way to treat your loyal old pal)

    Liked by 1 person

    • Fortunately a lab has a short memory: no sooner do I put the boat trailer on the truck than he’s in the front seat saying ‘Let’s Go!’ . . . Some days are so rough though that I’m sure we’d both be better off opening a can of tuna . . .

      Liked by 1 person

      • rivrvlogr says:

        Just outside a breakwall of the Buffalo harbor is an area called “The Coin Pile.” It might be carpeted with Zebra mussels now, but when I was diving there in the eighties and nineties, it was a place to find old coins. Speculation was that immigrants and settlers heading west would throw coins for good luck. Fanning the sand and gravel bottom would reveal those coins, rough and scoured due to the slight current of Lake Erie flowing into the Niagara River, which also quickly cleared the fanned sediment.

        One day, with assurances from the National Weather Service that a coming storm was 6 to 12 hours away, my buddy and I went down from my anchored 20 ft. cuddy cabin, with my (ex)wife, son and nephew (both 7 yrs. old) on board, fishing and enjoying the sun. We came up 45 minutes later to 5 ft. waves and a boat drifting towards the wall. I got no sympathy for the battering I took from those waves, getting into the boat, and I certainly didn’t get any smiles while driving home in the Blazer.

        Your golden friend is a trooper.

        Liked by 1 person

      • And not only that but he got a nice taste of the two very fat dungeness crabs we pulled up in the last pot . . . The wind was blowing so hard I couldn’t get the boat on the trailer; finally some guy saw me struggling and came down and helped me . . . Lord, have mercy on old fishermen!

        Liked by 1 person

      • Loved your boating story from your upstate NY days . . . Generally when I see white`caps i’m back to the boat ramp and shelter. But I had two crab pots out and still no dinner for my wife & I so we stayed out longer than we should have: but we did catch our dinner! Two big fat Dungeness crabs: more than the two of us could finish . . .

        Liked by 1 person

  2. fantastic description of that falling sensation when the boat drops – I’m not sure I’d be as forgiving as your dog…

    Liked by 1 person

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