Dutch Harbor and the Bering Sea

Are places that take a toll on a person’s soul

If you stay there long enough.

It is the end for some and is the beginning for others.

The fishermen come to test themselves,

Each trip to be the "best"

High Hopes of bringing in the biggest catch

Finding the Grand-Prize.

But fear lives here too

Every trip could be the "last"

They face a harsh reality there.

Such a mournful bitch The Bering Sea

She can swallow men whole in the blink of an eye

A wicked lady Unforgiving and ruthless

Grabbing with icy-wet fingers

Pulling them down and showing no mercy

Folding them into her freezing heart

Some will look her in the face

And beg her to kiss away the pain

And silently go insane.

Stormy seas and gale winds sting their faces

Salt-filled cracks burn wet hands and feet

Using baseball bats and brave hearts

The deckhands and fishermen pray

And lash back at the fury

They feel their fear and are angry

They swing

They hammer

They pray and shout hopelessly

At the death grip of blue ice

That creeps up on the rigging, rails and decks

Another layer with each crashing wave

Weighing them down with a silent veil of death

Minds and hands become too tired to fight

Cracked by the numbing cold

Sometimes

It is not enough

The end comes quickly

No time for fond farewells

The Amber Dawn went down.