Cold Stream


In Memory of Evan Evanik


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Now this story I would tell,
I swear on my eye is true.
You may think what you want,
But I know what I conclude.

A young fellow moved to Larsen Bay,
And took a pretty Native girl for a wife.
He settled in, decided,
Fishing would be his way of life.

Evan seined summers with a damned good man,
And learned to do things right.
He caught on mighty quick,
Cause he was hungry and bright.

He came with me one winter,
Was a cold and stormy time.
The going was tough and the fish were scarce,
But he was always good for the grind.

Then he moved on and bought a boat,
It seemed the natural order of things.
He crabbed her hard in the wintertime,
And went seining in the Spring.

Came the time he had to stop,
And give that boat some major work.
He beached her to do the job,
He knew he couldn’t shirk.

Well, Evan was almost finished,
When it came on to blow.
One more tide, he could take her off,
Just a few more seams to go.

They say he was working underneath,
When she was hit by a mighty gust of wind.
She rolled over on her side,
And beneath her he was pinned.

Someone called me late that night,
To give the sad old news.
It’s impossible to express the loss,
When another friend you lose.

Next morning as we dropped the lines,
And started off to run the gear,
A Raven came winging from Larsen Bay,
And landed without a show of fear.

All day long that Raven rode,
Perched on that tall boom end.
He watched us working gear,
Like we were old and trusted friends.

Up and down the strings he rode,
As I maneuvered forth and back.
All the while calmly watching,
Dressed in his coat of black.

Now I’ve never seen a Raven,
Land on a boat to stay.
To ride there all day long,
Is just not the Raven’s way.

But when evening came and we turned for home,
He was still there on his perch.
He’d rode there all day long,
Through every twist and lurch.

I glanced back at him when we neared the dock,
He seemed to look me in the eye,
When I looked again, he was gone…
But I never saw him fly!

Now I offer no explanation,
What works for me, might not for you.
All I know are the facts above,
And I swear, by God, they’re true!

David Densmore
December 2000

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