On Tommy’s Boat

 Against the grandmother’s wishes we went.

Aboard the large wooden boat.

Gaelic-speaking fishermen all around us in rubber boots and caps.

They mostly ignored us, but no doubt were amused.

Two young American girls, perhaps a welcome distraction to the hard-working day.

 We were excited!

Savoring every moment.

This was the real deal.  An authentic fishing expedition on Dingle Bay. 

 Out on the water we went.  It was cold. The winds were strong and the waves were high.

Such a thrill to experience Uncle Tom in his element.

So very at home here on the wild sea.

 Far from the dock, the hardy, weathered men pulled in large, full nets.

Oh, what we saw! Flopping piles of fish.

We two sisters clinged to the boat, looking at each other in wonder and delight!

Water and fish all over the deck!

Eels slithering away.

Crabs running about.

 Were we in a movie?

Was this a tiny version of “The Deadliest Catch?”

But there were no TV cameras here.

Only the wild sea and these working men

Gathering their catch,

Throwing back the oddities.

We loved every moment.

Hung on every Gaelic-spoken word.

 Back at the pier our uncle told us to hold out our hands.

We did, while he hacked off the limbs of several crabs and placed the claws in our hands.  They continued to move.

“Run back to the house, “ he shouted, “and”boil these up.” 

 We ran back, fighting against the strong winds, laughing. 

To the big grey O’Shea house that was starting to feel like home.

We feasted on these delectables from the Irish Sea,

 on a day we’d never forget.

 Out to sea!  The real deal!