The Last Mackerel

The Last Mackerel

The engine starts in my old boat

Reluctantly, as the hydraulic steering

Kicks in with a bang.

We make our way, the same way now

For weeks. Scanning the fish-finder,

My brother swears its on “Demo” mode

As the blips indicate a fish or two.

We fish with everything we have and can buy

But there are no more fish.

The screen is empty for miles…Then, a stronger image

Appears.  We jig and dip Christmas tree rigs

And finally, my grandson pulls up a fish

It is the mackerel we have been seeking

He is alone and small and weak

We jiggle the hook from his jaws

And release him, fearing he may be

The Last Mackerel.

FTC – Summer, 2015

Off Ducktrap in “Big Red”, our 1972 Beals Island Lobsterboat