| Out along the harbour reach Boats stand dried up on the beach Ghost-like in the early dawn Empty, now the fish are gone. What will become of people now? Try to build a life somehow Hard, hard times are back again No more fish, no fishermen. |
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No more shoppers in the stores Since the fish plant closed its doors Men who walked a trawler's decks Now line up for welfare cheques. There's big "For Sale" signs everywhere Pockets empty, cupboards bare See it on the news at ten- No more fish, no fishermen. |
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Once from Ship Cove to Cape Race Port aux Basques to Harbour Grace Newfoundlanders fished for cod Owing merchants, trusting God. They filled their dories twice a day They fished their poor sweet lives away They could not imagine then No more fish, no fishermen. |
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Back before the Second War We could catch our fish inshore Boats were small and gear was rough We caught fish, but left enough. And now there's no more fish because The trawler fleets took all there was We could see it coming then- No more fish, no fishermen. |
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Farewell now to stage and flake Get out for the children's sake Leave all friends and kin behind Take whatever job you find. There's some that say things aren't so black They say the fish will all come back Who'll be here to catch them then? No more fish, no fishermen. |
Shelley says: There are several Newfoundland and nautical terms and phrases in the song. A reach is a sea inlet or channel. Hard, hard times recalls the title of a traditional local song about the fisherman's bitter economic lot. A modern trawler ship drags a huge bag-shaped net capable of enclosing an entire school of fish. A stage was the shed where in former times inshore cod fishermen landed, split, washed, and salted their catch. A flake was a rough pole-and-bough platform on which salt cod was dried in sun and wind before being exported.
Posted With Permission