Ray Boorman


How tranquil the sound of my small yellow boat
as she bobs up and down as we set her afloat,
launched from a trailer down in the bay
we start her engine and get underway,
I have to be punctual, the tide won't wait,
as I re-check my rods and various bait.
I'm heading for Portland, fishing over the Hood,
as I'm led to believe that the fishing is good.
Two hours alas and I've caught nothing yet
and It's turning quite choppy and I'm getting wet,
so I'll pack up my tackle and call it a day
and chug my way home, back to Weymouth Bay.

I lived in Weymouth in Dorset for about ten years
and didn't get out in my little boat as much as i would have liked. The Hood mentioned in the poem is the original HMS Hood that was sunk in the entrance to Portand harbour to stop submarines entering during the war.
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Published on e-Stories.org on 02/16/2011.


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