Dear Broken Binnacle Subscribers (and non-subscribers too!)
I know it’s been a long time coming, and with James calling me out like that in our last post it really couldn’t wait any longer, but I would like to share with you all my first official contribution to the Binnacle. I thought it appropriate for my first post to reflect our nautical theme here at TBB, so I wrote a poem loosely drawing from my experience working on a commercial fishing boat way up in Alaska a couple years back. I hope you enjoy, and I am praying for you all as we wrap up this Lenten season, and I wish you all a very holy Triduum and a joyful Easter season to come!
At Abercrombie’s menacing cliffs, Our aimless minds full of wonder, We gazed upon the thick grey sky, Searching for a horizon to no avail. We had no clue what we were up to, Nor did we know what brought us there. A dull and steady dread of what was coming Filled our restless hearts. Paint the rigging! Mend the net! Break your back, and learn the set! Orders shouted and orders heeded, The constant fear of screwing up Forced us into a productive frenzy, By which we quickly learned the ropes. Bowlines tied a brand new way To save our skins on a later day. The devilish dice danced across B-float, A promise to pay that ne’er came true. Clean the tank! Sort the fishes! Brew the pot, and scrub the dishes! Green horns to the bone and marrow, Our chances of success were slim, But we pulled in the biggest catch, And the viking veterans voiced their envy. Their envy soon turned into fond respect, We God-fearing boys no longer disdained. With newfound faith in our endeavors We returned our sights to that now faint horizon. Tow the seiner! Avoid the cliff! Protect the net, and tie up the skiff! Day in and day out, the ragged routine Numbs our bones and fogs our minds. Our soaking socks, the groaning engine, God! give us strength to endure till the end! But why are we here if not to make money? What keeps us alive through these tiresome days? We seek the horizon, now fully in sight, Those sunny shores beyond the gloomy mist. And when will it end, this laborious journey? The horizon seems near but in truth is quite far. Our toils are over, yet the Search still goes on, For our hearts will not rest till they rest in Thine own.
“The world’s thy ship and not thy home.” - St. Thérèse of Lisieux