ASTORIA, Ore. — Work, sometimes just the memory of it, is what brings the fisher poets to this faded port at the mouth of the Columbia River for a weekend each year.
They might wax about the versatility of a deck bucket or of romance in rubber boots, but they also describe a livelihood that can kill those who pursue it. And at a time when industries everywhere are in decline, this year some said that increasingly restrictive fishing laws had long ago taught them about struggle....
First held in 1998 with a few people standing on a stage in a bar, the event now fills a weekend with verse, song and storytelling across four sites. Given the economy, attendance was somewhat lower this year than in the past. Then again, populism played particularly well. Camp converged with oceangoing cred. Old salts dazzled California transplants. Even a bad day of fishing, it seems, can produce a decent rhyme. Or not.
Read the rest. There's a cool slideshow too.
I wonder if they'll ever have a festival for logorrheic trout bloggers?
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