Vernon fished the Casco Bay from Peakes Island
The other day-fishers know his boat
A 1985 Seaway 22-footer ran the Drunken Ledge, the Cod Ledges, Big Ridge, and the Tanta's 'punkin bottom'
For pollock and cod throughout the winter
All in sight of the Ram's Head Light s\Station__
Quinton 46
Fishing all he know
Not speaking much, except to the fish and his boat THE LITTLEST BEAR
And his dog, Penny___
Twenty years of fishing
Under his belt
Still has all his teeth and hair
The cougars at Billy Ray's Tavern
Once thought he worth one night
No more
He smells too much like fish
Don't matter
Penny loves him
And one woman's love is all a fisherman needs__
On a sunny January morning
Quinton trailed two long lines
Over the blister bottom of the Klondike
Catching a good mess of fish for the Portland pier
And the day ran past noon
On and on
This his life
Aseea alone
At home with Penny
The wet of the sea, the smell of fish, and__
A three-foot wave broke his bliss
The afternoon sun low o'er the shore
Dark coming soon
No other boats in sight
A nippy wind breezed up from the north.
Lowery clouds gathered to the east
Casco Bay not be flat for long
Heavy seas a-coming
Still a Honkin' mess of fish on the lines
Only two options;
Haul in the catch or cut bait
Get out of the weather
Shelter leeward of the nearest island
The cold Atlantic wind skated bow to stern__
Something bad brewing Down East
Bad, not yet wicked
"Fuck it."
Quinton cut the lines
He was no fool
It was time to outrun the weather
Full Throttle
To Ram's Island
Shelter from the storm___
Throughout that evening the storm got worster
No one had seen Quinton at Billy Ray's
Neither at asea nor ashore
They feared the worst
They said nothing.
Saying something was bad luck.
They drained their PBRs and watched the Bruins
At midnight the tavern door opened wide
Quinton with Penny by his heel
Drenched to the bone.
"Rough ride home. Two Jamie's, a ‘Gansett."
He eyed the bar.
Four other fishermen sat on the stools
They dry
Him
Wet to the bone
Dripping a wicked sea__
"Get these landlubbers a drink too."
Quinton says nothing else
There nothing to say
He just lifted a finger
Another round
As many as before last call
Vernon knew his limits
Both
At sea and on shore
And so did Penny__
Sunday, March 15, 2026
THE LITTLEST BEAR a poem
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