At Hout Bay the fishing trawler sails out <br />while the rain pours down <br />like water out of God’s hosepipe <br />with engines roaring in the ears <br /> <br />and clouds of smoke hang over the boats <br />with every fisherman for a moment being caught <br />in a own world while fog whirl about the boats <br />that rocks up and down to the harbour mouth. <br /> <br />The waves crash, the sea foams and bubbles <br />and “my girlfriend has a good lover, ” <br />is sung by one while the trawler sets its course <br />on the look out for barracouta, cod and sea trout. <br /> <br />“Look at the shining bodies, tons of trout, they are running free, ” <br />a fisherman shouts against the wind that pulls and pulls on the boat. <br />“Salmon man, salmon” roars the tiller man back and walls of water <br />roll past and the boat turns to get fishing gear ready. <br /> <br />“My girlfriend has a good lover and he’s a gelded goat, ” <br />the tune goes on and something clatters down <br />drawing the attention of the fishermen and the water shines <br />and when the boat is full they tell jokes that they guffaw at.<br /><br />Gert Strydom<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/at-hout-bay-the-fishing-trawler-sails-out/
