20170120 (keeper)

The waves were higher that afternoon, the sky dark with rain.

This raft has shelter, the other was simply flat, laden with harvest in two large polyethylene bags.

High winds blew the water in

My little section of the sound

Like ocean’s waves, two to three

Feet crest to trough, rocking the

Geoduckers* in the boat roughly 

Crashing against their raft.

I couldn’t tell what they were 

Up to as the little boat powered

Around the raft bearing what

Appeared to be two huge white

Bags of harvest. My guess was

They’d be swamped if they

Transferred the bags to the boat.

One of them clambered onto 

The raft rocking unevenly as

The waves rose and dropped.

Its flat surface was shiny with

The rain and I knew he’d soon

Be tossed overboard, but his 

Boots amazingly didn’t slip.

I watched a while waiting

For him to hit the water

Any moment. They seemed

To be trying to tie the boat 

To the raft but the unrelenting

Waves frustrated their every

Attempt. Eventually the man

Aboard the raft pulled on the

Anchoring ropes and lifted it

Into the raft. Then he shifted

To another at the other side.

I turned away briefly and took 

A call. When I looked back

They were gone. The winds

And rain continued as fiercely

As before. They were nowhere

To be seen. I don’t really know 

How long I was not looking

Nor did I know how deep the

Water was where they had been.

I called 911 to report the 

Disappearance on the off

Chance that they truly had

Gone under. It took a while to

Find the right authorities who

Said at first they would alert

Other fishermen who might 

Know where they could have

Gone. I watched the surface

Where they’d been in case

I’d spot an arm or boot 

Thrashing in the waves.

Who cared if they thought me

A nervous Nell reporting an

Event he wasn’t even sure had 

Occurred? Soon the darkness

Of winter night settled over the

Choppy water. Only the sound

Of branches scraping against 

The house could be heard and

The splash of rain from where

The gutters were choked with 

Leaves. That was weeks ago.

The little boats, since then, have

Come and gone, the harvesters

Bobbing with their eerie blue

Lights at night when the tide

Is low. There was no news

Of missing geoduckers. Still I 

Felt more like a busybody 

Bystander, alerting authorities

For no good reason, than like

A man who had taken action,

His brothers’ keeper.

c. J.S.Manista, 2017

*(pronounced goo-ey-duckers) See 

http://filosuferz.blogspot.com/2016/12/20161202-ducks-bucks.html