Water: Friend Or Foe?

It was a quiet autumn day, the sun was low in the sky and there was a slight breeze over the Minch; this would have to be the last day this year for setting a net, as the fishery cruiser wouldn’t be in Gairloch for

at least three weeks.

As Matthew pulled back the dusty tarpaulin on the Alibel, his gaze landed on a frayed piece of paper. It was a poem he had written last winter when he went out in the boat, by himself.

Water:

Deep, green, cold,

Cold, glassy, treacherous,

Treacherous because beneath the calm,

Glassy surface lies the potential to chill a man to death;

Death by drowning, or death by chilling.

Chilling, choking, calling, drowning.

Surviving.

Water:

a sleeping tiger calm and placid,

until roused into a storm by teasing winds,

she spits in our faces and

tosses our boats in her paws.

Water:

a cruel cheat,

we set off with high hopes,

for huge fishing,

only to return empty-handed,

and hungry.

Water:

Deep, blue, bitter,

Bitter, unforgiving, treacherous,

Treacherous because beneath the calm,

Glassy surface lies the potential to chill a man to death;

Death by drowning, or death by chilling.

Chilling, choking, calling, drowning.

Surviving.

How different this year had been.

Water:

calm, kind, cool,

cool, clear, refreshing.

A beautiful and generous companion,

A rich and bountiful supply of resources.

food, power, pleasure.

A gateway to the world.

Just as Matthew was finishing his poem, he saw Roddie coming down the road. “I’d better hide it better this time. I wouldn’t want Roddie to know I like writing poetry,” he thought. “What like?” he said.

“Nae bad. Yersel?”

“Well, we had another lamb die last night,” replied Matthew. “Will you give me a hand launching the Alibel? I want to take her out one last time before the winter comes.”

Roddie, S2