ramblings and things
I’m a deckie on a side winder
A rough and brutal life
Which is sometimes reflected in
The way I treat my family and wife.
And the fast blacks queue for me
Eager to take my trade
And the pubs welcome me for
Their share of what I’ve made.
And they say we are heroes,
Us of the deep sea fishing fleet
In our powder blue suits with
Brothel creepers on our feet.
Three day millionaires they call us
But do they ever stop to think
Why I fill my life ashore
With company and drink.
Sometimes when the catch is low
Or when the market price is bad
I owe the owners money when they
Claim back allowances the family had;
Then we exist on the talleyman,
Or, what I really hate,
Beg at Myton Street Social
For a hand out from the state.
Three days between trips
Three days to try and live
Then it’s back on board where
They take all I have to give.
Seventeen fisher lives gone
For every miner’s life lost
All for cheap fish and taties;
Do they add that to the cost.
I’m a deckie on a sidewinder, which
Can be a seaborne life of hell
But when the catch is good boys
Me and my family live so well.
Three Day Millionaires