Under Weigh.(Poem)

 
UNDER WEIGH 
 
   The horizon lifts and falls, a frenzy 
   of gulls, fulmars and albatross 
   yaw into the wake of gurry, Sorbitol, 
   fish stench and fuel oil. 
   Steel teeth and winch drums, 
   rattle of hydraulic trains-- 
   a sea bed thrums across the deck: 
   basket stars, jellyfish, gillers and squid 
   squish against cold chain and nylon web, 
   rain severed heads, heaps of viscera. 
   The net hauls in the deep 
   leagues of breeding pollock 
   from a strange kind of firmament. 
 
   The hold is full and we're under weigh, 
   the trawler fleet behind, gray outlines 
   against a gray sky, to windward 
   the low-lying rock of lone Bogoslof, 
   shape-shifted by the squall into a humpback, 
   sinks into the singing gale. 
   Porpoise race and slip along the keel 
   in gloaming streaks of light 
   as we make weigh across 
   the wrack and scud, 
   dip hard, lift fast 
   and list away to port, 
   righting 
   on the violent plunge-- 
   in the long rush of curling foam 
   we bring the shoreline with us. 
 
   Priest Rock in sight, the master hails 
   the harbor: "Securite, securite." Green to green 
   we pass the ships heading out to sea, 
   Hog Island so close the jagged rock 
   might shave paint off the scuppers. 
   "After 20 years," the master says, 
   "it still scares the bejeesus out of me 
   to steer so close to shore, 
   but we must trust the soundings, 
   or run aground." 
 
   II 
 
   The bay a bight: basaltic flows 
   slope tundra white to the inlet 
   let in from the sea, three shots of chain 
  ...