“Come, follow me,” Jesus said, “and I will send you out to fish for people.” – Matthew 4:19

One day, long ago, some lubbers huddled about along tha shore ter listen to tha Son explain tha words of Skipper. With tha motley crew pressing in so close, tha Son looked fer a place where he could put some space between him and them fellers. Up tha beach, he seen some men washing thar nets. With one of ’ems boats beached, tha Son ordered tha feller ter put a little ways out from shore. Sitting in that gig, tha Son went back ter expounding on Skip’s words and Code of Conduct.

When he finished speaking, tha Son ordered tha feller what owned tha gig ter sail inter deeper water and let down tha nets. Even though that gig’s owner had fished all night without catching so much as a minner, he did as ordered. No sooner had the fellers in tha gig unfurled thar gear, when such a large number of fish rushed inter tha nets and commenced ter flopping about. Now, ya and I know fish not be the smartest critters in that sea. That honor goes ter the conch. Since fish be not all that bright, not a one escaped tha net.

The gig’s owner signaled ter his friends fer help. They came and filled both gigs so full tha tiny fleet began ter sink. If yer be thinking this be another of them tall tales dead men tell, let me remind ya that tha destiny of ever boat is ter sink. It would seem that day had come fer them gigs.

But low and be hold (fancy pirate phrase fer shazam) tha little gig reached shore without losing nary a fish. No sooner had they beached her on tha hard when tha Son said to the gig’s owner, “Don’t be afraid. From now on you will catch men.”

There be a great many things ter take note of in this here tale. People crowded around tha Son simply ‘cause he spoke words from Skipper. Well shucks, any old body kin do that. When we first meet tha fishermen we find’em hard at work washing their nets, proving them ter be good crew who knew how ter care fer their gear. Them fellers sailed in a fleet of two, showing they knew tha worth of safety in numbers. Tha gig’s owner didn’t get in a snit simply ‘cause a stranger took a notion ter sit a spell in his boat. But tha thing that be most telling ’bout this tale is that a good catch of fish be in deep water and deep water be far from shore.

If ya mean ter fish and catch a good haul, ya’ll need ter put out a ways. Then a ways more. And sometimes a long ways.

Men be worth more than fish, though both be tough ter catch. Fish not talk back, smack ya, spit on or cuss ya. Sometimes thar fins can poke yer skin and draw blood, so thar be that.

Don’t be a feared of fishing fer men. Any catch ya pull in ‘ill be worth tha effort.

Ya got a choice, mate. Ya kin fill a man’s belly and leave him hungry, or ya kin feed him the sort of fish’n chips that leave his soul full. It be yer net, yer time, and yer haul. How ya cast and where and when be up ter ya.