Charlie Douglas
From: The Lost Music, Bloodaxe 1996'We're gan' tyek hor off, th' morn,'
Said Charlie, squatting in his black-tarred hut;
And the other old fishermen muttered, spat, swore.
So after a thin night, cracked by storm,
I arrived by the harbour kilns at dawn,
Where the sour Jane Douglas smoked and heaved,
Rocking her burden of dans and creeves.
And Charlie, a tab in his toothless jaw,
Stared blindly out to Featherblaa',
Tiller in hand. And away she roared,
Her proud bows rising, blue and white,
The same cold colours as the changing light
Bowling over the wind-torn sea.
Now, all the creatures that creep below,
Lobster and nancy, crab and frone,
From many million years ago
Have secret places, and Charlie knows
The banks and hollows of every part.
He's learnt their lineaments by heart
And mapped the landscape beneath the sea.
O, I was the blind man then, not he.
Now Charlie's quiet. His words were few:
'Aah'll tell ye somethin'. Now this is true --
We're finished, hinny. The fishin's deed.
Them greet, muckle traa'lers -- it's nowt but greed.
Whae, there's nae bloody chance for the fish t' breed...
An' the lobsters! Y' bugger! In wor day
W' hoyed aa' th' berried hens away!'
'And they don't do that now?' 'Darsay noo!'
As he spoke, I watched the steeple grow
Smaller, still smaller, marking where
His folk, for the last three-hundred years,
Were christened and married and laid to rest.
So I urged him to tell me of all the past,
That other, hidden, deep-sea floor;
And whatever I'd cherished in life before --
Home, friends -- just then, I loved him more,
This crined old man of eighty-two;
I wanted to trawl him through and through
For all the mysteries he knew
About the sea, about the years.
I wanted to haul his memories free
Like a string of creeves from the troubled sea,
Shining with swad and water-beads.
But turning his fierce, blind gaze on me,
His eyes said, 'Hinny, ye'll nivvor see --
Ye divvin't tell them aa' ye kna
Or aal your stories in a day.'
Katrina Porteous