The Custodian

The speaker reflects on the tradition of fishing, passed down through generations. They mention the challenges and dangers of fishing, as well as the importance of finding fair prices for their catch. They think about their family and the future, and acknowledge their responsibility as a fisherman to ensure the preservation of fish in the sea. Episcatorial custodians have stood the test of time, Now we trawl with heavy nets where once a rod and line. Centuries of fishing, many more to come, The sea, they say, is in our blood, Passed down from dad to son. The precious gold we toil to find Flashes silver in the deep. Illusive monk monks scurrying prawn, Fair prices that we seek. They fight for our souls, Neptune and Davy Jones, In their murky deep abyss. From their cold dark world, danger's hard to miss. My grandfather fished here, his grandfather too. I think to myself as I take in the view Of the moorings in Coquille, Portavogie or Glass. I think of my bairns on the mainland in class, Supporting future families from our seas in loch, Time passing through like a slow ticking clock. The moorings will still stand, but fish in the sea. As an episcatorial custodian, that's down to me.