Padstow’s Silent Night Vessels…
Cumbersome, they wait in the dark,
Tethered like steers as the tide recedes,
Rendering them listing,
Vacant and shifting
In Padstow mud and the November stillness.
They tarry, looming large, yet helpless
In the occasional moonlight stark,
Seemingly cluttered, chaotic workplaces
For weathered fishermen’s anxious faces.
Each hulking vessel wears a mark of registration,
Its official, impersonal identity for recognition;
Yet those boats have names too, a maritime tradition,
In a world of chance and mariners' superstition…
Pete Ray
9th November 2022
Walking back to the car on 8th November, I noticed several moored boats and thought how silently they waited for their crews.
Their tackle, the registration mark, the lack of life around them was almost eerie, as if they had been abandoned.
Clearly, the fishermen love their vessels and they are reliant upon them, especially during bad weather…
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