If you are ever so lucky to consider yourself a “bluenoser”, you long ago have come to respect the briny deep. And that being born here once meant you’d become a fisherman by the time you were a teenager. It was the unspoken heritage. One I didn’t think twice about.
The waters were at one time aplenty with sustenance. But that screaming of life was yesteryear’s gift. Today we’re only left with a whisper and the imprint of our greed.
The choice of my people was selfishness for too long…
Seafood was for a long time our bread and butter. The aplomb to go and do what was needed to provide for one’s family in a boat is heroism materialized. Akin to war, you are dependent on your brothers to make it home in one piece. Although taking this water for granted is ill-advised. It is not an endless providing body, it too has it limits.
My granddad was a war vet and not one to speak of the horrors he endured in battle. But he had built a dory with his own calloused hands and his alone. It was a craft that was nothing more than a floating tombstone on the water. It never would get the chance to burden the water with its presence.
A choice had to be made…
He exited the fishing game thereafter. He had taken enough from the water. “Take only what you need and leave the water how you found it,” was what he said. I’d never forget it.
Our waters need protection. If anything, they deserve to be treasured. I realized that I needed to think twice about this. It was my responsibility to show the water mercy now. My granddad is no longer with me, but the sea still exists. As does that gut-wrenching climate change. It is now my war to fight.
One last choice and it was mine…
I’ve decided to not take from the water. Vegetables provide me with my nutrients, so I’ve planted a garden. This will be my way to leave things better.