A Fisherman's Memories Poem by Mrs. Patricia Dawson

There they were the trawlers of Grimsby
In Fifties and Sixties and well before
Boats nearly sinking with their catch
Of haddock and cod fresh and raw
The men gutting them knee high from the floor
All the fish wriggling and smelling
The fishermen stood hours in their wellys
The fish being put down in the hold
Covered over with lots of ice
The skipper yelling and you couldn't have
A smoke or even think twice
About the ship rocking and rolling and the waves of the sea
Galley boy down below trying to cook and make a mug of tea
I can't wait to get ashore
I've just received a telegram
The wifes had our first baby and yes it's a boy