JASON DOAN began fishing as a teenager out of Seward, Alaska, his hometown for many years. He has fished in many fisheries in Alaska and Washington state. He says, "I love Salmon fishing the most. And I love to write and sing my songs about my fishin' life and the people in it."
AUDIO
WRITINGS
Slide on the Blue
Sometimes I set
That's what I do
I slip in the trough
And I slide on the blue
I spend time alone
Or I bide my time
In salmon foam
Or gray cod slime
I'm on my knees
Or I'm on my back
Or I'm leap'n round
Or I'm pull'n slack
It's what I need
It's how I live
It's what I want
It's how I give
Sometimes I set
It's what I do
I slip in the trough
And I slide on the blue
It's not the money
Or movie star
It's a knee jerk reflex
It's what I are
I find my pace
I'm feel'n stout
I jump in the skiff
And I pull it out
Or I ride the waves
Or I haul the gear
Or I stow the deck
And I have a beer
Sometimes I set
It's what I do
I slip in the trough
I slide on the blue
Stormy nites
And sunny days
Pounding round
In pea soup haze
Bait'n hooks
And hauling nets
And fixing shit
What's on the deck
Up and down
Hurry up and wait
Back and forth
With frozen bait
Sometimes I set
That's what I do
I slip in the trough
And I slide on the blue
I've made my money
I've spent my time
I've lived long enough
To cite my rhyme
And to my mates
I love you all
For standing fast
In fair and squall
And for making sure
Your knots are tight
And for open eyes
When I sleep at night
Sometimes I set
That's what I do
I slip in the trough
I slide on the blue
_______________
Face Against the Wind
There is an early morning Sun
It's like breakfast with my kin
First light has found me work'n
With my face against the wind
Early morning treasure
It's what we dug up in the tide
The money bag is on the deck
So we make that run for the set inside
Find your rhythm and take your place
Use your wits when you're in doubt.
Chase the salmon here and there,
Chase the salmon in and out.
It's a fine day to set your net
Let 'er go let's set again
Midday had found me work'n
With my face against the wind
It's long past supper on the deck
We're gonna work this gear out
Squeeze one more over the rail
Look for town and turn about
Purple clouds sleep on ocean water
Short darkness takes it's turn
Sunrise coffee bleary eyes
As you dig for more to burn
All these years it's been the same
Will I lose or will I win
First light has found me work'n
With my face against the wind
_______________
Arctic Flyer
Awake in an instant. I fell sideways toward the bulkhead.
Why is there smoke, and tools on the floor, and me. I strain to stand in this sideways world, where I used to drink coffee and rest and dream of big sets. I climb up to the dash and I see my skipper. He is hanging on to the wheel. I can see him, screaming at me, but my world is up side down. I don't understand his words. I feel the stern of the boat, suddenly rising fast. I look for the top of the wave through the port hole behind me. I can not see it, there is only water. The juggernaut that is the sea, fast and cold and powerful. Then the floor disappears from under my feet, and it seems to me as if I am weightless, like the spray at the top of a wave, I fly. As I land, I can hear the diesel scream as the propeller spins freely in the air. I feel like crying when I realize that I have landed on the windshield, and all I can see is the green of the sea and spreading cracks in the windshield beneath me. I am going to die today. The sea is eating me, and I am too slow. I have to get out. All I want to do is leave this place. All I want to do is go home.
_______________
Fisher Poets
Dudes from Hammond
Chase simple salmon
That's what I heard
Ol' Smitty say
Lying to fisherman
That are not there
Keeps Rob Seitz
Busy all day
Moe Bowstern can sing
Like a fisherman's dream
Cary Jones can slap
A mean harp
And Erin's got stories
About working on boats
That'll make you look
Deep in your heart
Steve Schoolmaker speaks of connections
Dennis McGuire of mutated fish
And a history lesson
From our friend Hobe
Is something no fisherman should miss
Cowboy Ron
Can dazzle your ears
With tales of cows and stuff
Well there's lots of us
That get up on stage
And spill their fisherman's guts
So if I forgot to mention your name
You know there's a damn good reason
You might get lucky, you could be the star
Of my brand new poem next season
