We started out just needing eight weeks
at the beginning of our career.
With just that many we had enough
to survive for the rest of the year.

No union then to fight for us
Management had full sway
and if they didn't like you
they could just send you away.

The work was hard, the hours long
the heat, the flies, the sweat
from 8 AM to 4 AM,
one night I'll not soon forget.

There were many days & nights like this
the fish just had to be done
and strangely enough with humour
& joke, at times it seemed like fun

To get the codfish under salt
was a monumental task
with fishing boats in great numbers
"Can we get this done?" we'd ask.

The wages low as all slaves know
the usual took its course
management controlled the money
with little if any remorse.

The union came, almost went again
we finally voted it in.
Hope increased for improved conditions
at least a little back then.

The weeks they went from eight to ten
some worked in winter & summer.
Technology changed from salt to fresh.
We were dancing to a different drummer.

Longliners came, trap skiffs went out
with many well-built punts.
The new boats brought in much more fish
to prevent some fishery runts.

The weeks increased just once again
much more than we had dreamed
and now we're looking forward to
the back end of fourteen.

July 2010   Submitted By: NULL