STEVE SCHOONMAKER has been a Alaska commercial fisherman for 29 years, fishing herring, salmon, crab, halibut and cod. He’s seined, gillnetted, set-netted, long-lined, wrangled horses, guided hunters, worked the hatcheries and Fish & Game camps from Cordova to Togiak. Does that sound like a lot? Yeah. He’s been lucky and blessed with a place to be so. Now he’s currently drift gillnetting for salmon out of Cordova on the fishing vessel Saulteur. He’s been expressing his thoughts in poetry for about the last ten years.
VIDEO
SnowFlake2 from Ralph Bullis on Vimeo.
AUDIO
WRITINGS
Blue
(Clear into New)
Renew…streaks through
like glaciers melt blue
as day light enhances
retreats…then advances
a new morning grew
a Gull’s squawking tongue
the rise of the sun
as the air in my lungs.
reddens…blue
renewing my blood
as a new flowers bud
on a mountain above
dries the dew…turning blue
out…to the open
to the swallow’s back’s
sloping
diving on cue
iridescent’s flash…flew
with the spectrums that grew
in the mist’s prism too
rain bowed…to ocean
rolling in motion
like the backs of a few
schooling…on through
iridescence…on blue
veering as one
Red Salmon run
holding…renew
homing in true
on sensory signs
as lateral lines
border . . . blue
scales flash
in the sun’s beaming hues
light’s aqua blues…player
Streaming like hair
falling…clear through
as the thunderhead’s view
billows…high
fused…on the sky
always in flux
wild,…. like the ducks
winging by
where run-offs can lie
and renew
reaching low…for the high
cause it’s due
reaching sea for the sky
to review
it’s reflections…in blue
seems to split into two
on it’s lines so defined
to the logical minds
it’s all one of a kinds
residue…
sometimes brine
like the water in you
yea, the colors the clue
and it’s…blue
clear into new
--------------------------------
Crow
Black crow on a piling
By my slip above me
Caa’s down at my boat
“give a dollar to the sea”
Tied up in Cordova
It’s a quarter to three
He caas, and he clicks
On a crow cackling spree
“your fools paradise
Has never been free
Git you rump from the bunk
Give a dollar to the sea “
My bow pickers pounded
Cracked welds and wet
I’m sore from last opener
Our roughest one yet
I was feeling the debt
Of the sleep I don’t get
“two dollars” the crow caas
“I’m raising the bet
I’m raising the bet”
Sometimes fishings so costly
It’s a damn near a vice
Whatever the species
A roll of the dice
A via for the pie
And the bigger the slice
Reds boarded and bleeded
And layered in ice
It’s not always simple
And It’s not always nice
It’s the gulf of Alaska
Where the fleet pays a price
and the weather last period
Would make you think twice
Yea, some of them headed
The being afraid
Some of them turned back
and some of them stayed
The rest of us out there
Just pounded and prayed
And out of that process
Some sockeyes got slayed
Just enough to be out there
In the off of that trade
Dancing with corklines
Down ocean swells grade
With puckered-up caution
And bills to be paid
Yea, some of it’s spent
If some of it’s made
But that crow on a piling
Just caas down at me
Git yer cash out of bed
Give a dollar to the sea
And so as it goes
Like the tides that will be
As that crow on a piling
Keeps caaing at me
“git yer cash outa bed
Three dollars, give three”
So I toss him a five
And I call it a fee
Half awake at the side
And I’m feeling guilty
As I reach for my wanger
Cuz I gotta pee
I can feel the crows eyes up there
Just glaring at me
Yea, I know he’s right
Yea, I’d have to agree
Cuz I’ll catch all I can
Then I’ll piss…in the sea
--------------------------------
Chrome
(like a King)
Listen,
to the rhymes of the mountains
to the shine off the Sea
to the blue ocean’s breath
to the clouds…in the breeze
Yea,… Listen,
to the colors of the sky
to it’s wet…to it’s dry
to it’s gulls soaring by
Listen,… try,
to the colors of Sea
to that color-change…plea
I may be nuts, but with my guts
I Listen, to rips running free
Listening…to see
where my net should be
to hit the right key
straining the Sea…for a dollar
gilled…at the collar
wild,… as a squall or
something much smaller
Still wild…in me
that’s when I see…listening
brown against blue
Pacific meets slough
Copper River runs through
mountains…wide
on the scenic side
splitting the view
calling ‘em through
new morning’s pink
through the groundswells brink
breaking…into…surf
thumping, lumping, in from the blue
Chrome spotted things
Grass Island Kings
come to renew
shorebirds sing too
your instincts bring you
sand…at your keel
goes the net off the reel
feel…the breeze off the flats
your town pressures…slack
your predators knack
Listen…to the corks as they clack
your back…fishing,
listen…comb
beach rolling foam
like a king,… led to the set
wound in the net,
bound for a jet’s…roaring drone
slapping tails… to vapor trails
nearly home
killed…for the buyer
or grilled… on the fire…
Chrome
juicy with fat
stopped…where your at
Listening,… yea listening
for which way to roam
Chrome
Crow
Black crow on a piling
By my slip above me
Caa’s down at my boat
“give a dollar to the sea”
Tied up in Cordova
It’s a quarter to three
He caas, and he clicks
On a crow cackling spree
“your fools paradise
Has never been free
Git you rump from the bunk
Give a dollar to the sea “
My bow pickers pounded
Cracked welds and wet
I’m sore from last opener
Our roughest one yet
I was feeling the debt
Of the sleep I don’t get
“two dollars” the crow caas
“I’m raising the bet
I’m raising the bet”
Sometimes fishings so costly
It’s a damn near a vice
Whatever the species
A roll of the dice
A via for the pie
And the bigger the slice
Reds boarded and bleeded
And layered in ice
It’s not always simple
And It’s not always nice
It’s the gulf of Alaska
Where the fleet pays a price
and the weather last period
Would make you think twice
Yea, some of them headed
The being afraid
Some of them turned back
and some of them stayed
The rest of us out there
Just pounded and prayed
And out of that process
Some sockeyes got slayed
Just enough to be out there
In the off of that trade
Dancing with corklines
Down ocean swells grade
With puckered-up caution
And bills to be paid
Yea, some of it’s spent
If some of it’s made
But that crow on a piling
Just caas down at me
Git yer cash out of bed
Give a dollar to the sea
And so as it goes
Like the tides that will be
As that crow on a piling
Keeps caaing at me
“git yer cash outa bed
Three dollars, give three”
So I toss him a five
And I call it a fee
Half awake at the side
And I’m feeling guilty
As I reach for my wanger
Cuz I gotta pee
I can feel the crows eyes up there
Just glaring at me
Yea, I know he’s right
Yea, I’d have to agree
Cuz I’ll catch all I can
Then I’ll piss…in the sea
--------------------------------
Chrome
(like a King)
Listen,
to the rhymes of the mountains
to the shine off the Sea
to the blue ocean’s breath
to the clouds…in the breeze
Yea,… Listen,
to the colors of the sky
to it’s wet…to it’s dry
to it’s gulls soaring by
Listen,… try,
to the colors of Sea
to that color-change…plea
I may be nuts, but with my guts
I Listen, to rips running free
Listening…to see
where my net should be
to hit the right key
straining the Sea…for a dollar
gilled…at the collar
wild,… as a squall or
something much smaller
Still wild…in me
that’s when I see…listening
brown against blue
Pacific meets slough
Copper River runs through
mountains…wide
on the scenic side
splitting the view
calling ‘em through
new morning’s pink
through the groundswells brink
breaking…into…surf
thumping, lumping, in from the blue
Chrome spotted things
Grass Island Kings
come to renew
shorebirds sing too
your instincts bring you
sand…at your keel
goes the net off the reel
feel…the breeze off the flats
your town pressures…slack
your predators knack
Listen…to the corks as they clack
your back…fishing,
listen…comb
beach rolling foam
like a king,… led to the set
wound in the net,
bound for a jet’s…roaring drone
slapping tails… to vapor trails
nearly home
killed…for the buyer
or grilled… on the fire…
Chrome
juicy with fat
stopped…where your at
Listening,… yea listening
for which way to roam
Chrome
