Bought memories up of my family and our battles against adversity. I to stayed by my parents side being the youngest and only son. I was rewarded when my Father at 87 said he couldn't have asked for better Son. Great story and great narration.
I'd never heard of this author before, but I am stunned at how moving and beautiful his prose is. The book is only made more lovely by the amazing and sensitive narration. I know I will listen to this video many more times. Thank you Jerry!
I see that I commented on this book two years ago, and since, I have listened to it three or four times, and it gets better each time. It's one of the best stories, sensitively read, that I have ever heard.
I was a seagoing man from age seventeen to age forty, although my "boats" were steel-hulled and had big guns rather than masts & ropes, and nets & trawls. But I was there, upon the sea, aboard six different "boats," all over the World. I understood every word, and felt every emotion. I loved the father and the son, and disliked and resented the mother. This is a good story, just the right length. I would that every story on here was like this...I could read one per day easily. Thank you for stirring my memory banks, and bless the men on the sea, and those lovely-ugly boats that give such happiness to so many men.
Its beautiful and crazy to think about how much emotion is involved in everything. As a person who as no connections to fishing by any means, when someone acknowledges 'fishermen', to the term is bluntly a career, which is not really anything exceptional to societal norms and standards, but when you look deeper into a fisherman's life, and from his perspective, there's massive emotion and attachment to it, and this is true with every profession in this world regardless of how it is weighed, if one does that profession with passion, there's massive emotion into it.
This story was polished word by word. It was a work of a master of the craft of writing. Beautiful, touching, emotional. You can almost feel the harsh winter and salt coming from the sea. As a brazilian - and not very familiar with canadian authors, except one or two - I had never heard of the author, but now I need to read more of his books. And the narrator found the perfect nostalgic tone. First I heard the story, then I read it. Amazing!
@@tamsintarshish3905 I've read Wilde (just The Picture of Dorian Gray). Of Joyce I've tried Ulysses - unfinished - and a couple of pages of Finnegan's Wake - which seemed impossible to me. I'm gonna check McCourt, thank you!
Not that melancholic, except the ending when he described fishing his Father out. The daughters leaving one by one is always the norm especially when a loving Son is left to do his duty. The Parents relationship was stoic with Dad knowing his girls would leave. Mum struggled with change but still had her boy.
I enjoyed this, I have a few of his books. When I read this book, I heard it in my head with a Cape Breton accent. I had to ignore the Mainland accent of the narrator. Please don’t take that as a negative comment, please.
I just fall in love with your voice . It's so soothing and calming . You inspire me to read more . And it really helps me managing my anxiety . I am your new subscriber now . Keep it up . You are doing awesome.
@@jebby281games6 *"Not the whole world revolves around you"* Looks like that was what you were trying to say but it really backfired on you. Do you have to be so rude, really? 😐
I’m currently working a 12 hour shift in a remote railroad signal box, it has 360 degree panoramic views. In front of me is the ocean and the sun is glinting on calm waters, behind me are mountains, I can see tiny white specs moving up and down the mountains (sheep). Either side are lush green meadows which produce vibrant beautiful colours from wild flowers in the summer time. The signal box is an old Victorian wooden building. The old pendulum clock is tick tocking in a very mediative rhythm on the wall. My dog is curled up asleep next to the old log burning stove . The wind is trying to make its way through the thin panes of glass which makes a beautiful haunting sound The resident Robin is outside on the steps eagerly pecking at the bread & biscuits crumbs I’ve thrown out for him. It’s a far cry from my last career in the city , I was well groomed and sharp suits , nice car and big house until one day ( 3 years ago) I saw the light after being forced to lay off some people at my company. It hit me hard & I just couldn’t live with myself anymore. I handed in my notice and walked out . The Universe came to my rescue and found this job for me, now I have long hair & beard and look like Grizzly Adams . I’ve taken up painting with water colours and I’m regularly bringing my paint pads here to work. I regularly have this channel playing in the background. The only person I see occasionally is an old farmer who drives by on an old open top tractor, he’s an old man with a flat cap, bright red face, his sheep dog between his legs with its front paws placed on the steering wheel . I call him “ Farmer Jones” although I’ve actually no idea what his real name is. He acknowledges me by raising his index finger off the steering wheel of his 1950’s tractor that has seen many many years of extreme mountain winters. Both Farmer Jones & his old sheep dog stare straight ahead without flinching. Where they go is a mystery as the the old drovers track goes on for miles way up into the mountains, they normally drive back past about 5.30pm and disappear back into the mountains in the opposite direction. He’s a tall man with 1970’s hair cut , kind of reminds me of an old Clint Eastwood stature . I’m sure he must have been a very handsome man in his day . I imagine the local girls hoping to catch his eye on a Saturday night at the old village hall dance. I’m guessing that there was once a Mrs farmer Jones but judging from the vacant stare of both him and his dog that they both experienced “ THE DAY !“ that life for them stood still” . Mrs Jones was getting ready to leave their old white washed mountain top farm to do the weekly shop in the local town , she’d been looking at a fancy catalog which had arrived in the post and had been looking at a beautiful summer dress that she wanted to buy for their daughter who’d got married some years before and had moved to the city suburbs with her husband and had recently had a child. As she was leaving she noticed a dead rat laying under the kitchen table . She thought oh thank god ‘Dylan’ the sheep dog finally killed that damn thing, it’s been raiding the pantry for months , he’s such a good dog considering his young age, I do love him . Mrs J got into the old car which took a few turns to start and slowly made her way down the old drovers track towards what can be loosely called a road , she glanced up at the mountains opposite her and saw Mr J and Dylan as specs in the distance rounding up sheep. She loved them both with all the love of a woman’s heart. She made her way along the road until arriving at a T junction of a main road , to the left was the local town however Mrs J turned right . ( if you asked her why she turned right on that particular day, all she could tell you is that …. All intention , meaning, thought , feelings just evaporated, “ I was a whispy summer cloud that drifts with absolutely no control , it came out of nowhere and yet I was connected to everything in the universe!! I just kept on driving , I wasn’t aware I was driving!!). Mr J & Dylan had arrived back many hours ago from the mountains as it was getting dark , he knew something was wrong as did Dylan , both fearing the worst . The phone line was down as usual but he’d managed to get the word out that Mrs J was missing. 3 days go by and Mr J looks at the open page in the catalog and think … You stupid man, I should have bought her something fancy !! I should have noticed, he wipes away a tear . Dylan noticed the rat he killed for his mama and had left it there so she could see she didn’t have to fret no more about it eating food from the parlour. Dylan thought .. it’s my fault she left I should never have left that rat in the kitchen. THE DAY !! Fast forward many years and that vacant stare is still there as they both go over that day forever . Mrs J found herself in the suburbs of a City she’d only visited once and followed a vaguely familiar road until she arrived and parked outside a vaguely familiar house. Marie her daughter was playing in the front garden with her new 1 year old child , something made her look up and notice an old beat up car parked on the road just in front of the gate. A female telepathy kicks in “ She knew “ she walks to the car and opens the driver door . The Female glance of eyes meeting for a split second carries more information than any Male could ever comprehend nor fathom. No words required, Marie took her mother by the hand sat her down at the kitchen table whilst she prepared the spare guest portion of the house . Mrs J stayed for a month until she left with a note to her Daughter “ Thank you “ !! . Mrs J these days is still with us but not with us . THAT DAY she dissolved back into the universe !! so Anyway, I’ve another train coming so I’d better go and pull a signal lever !!! I Look at the passengers faces as the train passes by, some have their heads in their phones , some stare emotionless out of the window , lost in their thoughts as life takes them on an individual journey of lost lioves, love, despair, anger , worry , contentment. It’s a journey we all must make …God speed to you all ❤️🙏🙏
I have often wondered about how I can feel nostalgia for something I never knew. I have had the feeling many times, but listening to this story gave me that feeling - a feeling of something that is gone, and will never come back - a feeling of wanting to catch something that is pulling out of my grasp, abut not being able to reach it. I loved the story, and when it ended, I immediately listened to it again. It is rare that I feel that way about anything - but this was special. I'm sure I will listen again in a few months, or in a year. Edit : I have listened to this essay probably 5 times in the last couple of years, and I find it a wonderful, captivating piece of writing, read for us by the perfect voice. If you enjoyed it as I have, look at this video of a Cape Island fishing boat - it perfectly sets the piece in context. ruclips.net/video/u_kU5o5LDKw/видео.html
I could feel that mother's contempt in her children's personal choices, how she hated that they defied tradition; tradition in itself a senseless peer pressure from dead generations. Why couldn't bshe have been happy in any measure that her children prospered and escaped the death trap of a small fishing town, which in turn made her so depressed?
Sometimes we need to broaden our perspective and think from how the other person thinks, or how the other 10 people think. It is beautiful to see how many perspectives create a frame in an argument, and that one's phycological upbringing, their environment, their culture and traditions all effect their thinking or world perspective. The mother always lived in a small town and had a captivated thinking about anything which would liberate them from the town, to her family, fishing was religious and they did everything orderly, she was not introduced to any other perspectives and had no interest either. I agree with you that she should be open and happy towards her child's success, but we can also understand her perspective if we look into into it. I think traditions are important, especially many that are scientifically formed for the welfare of our society, but modifying them and addition to them is important as time progresses, and it is evident that those cultures that were successfully able to do so have rode the means of time well, some of like the Hindu civilizations, and the eastern-Africans traditions, and many others
If you read the "Go Jump in the Pool" book whenever you start a new paragraph you should have a splashing sound effect like someone has jump into a pool.
![BLACK BAG - Official Trailer [HD] - Only in Theaters March 14](http://i.ytimg.com/vi/Du0Xp8WX_7I/mqdefault.jpg)
Loving, evocative, powerful story of growing up and life with his parents siblings and their community.
Bought memories up of my family and our battles against adversity. I to stayed by my parents side being the youngest and only son. I was rewarded when my Father at 87 said he couldn't have asked for better Son. Great story and great narration.
I'd never heard of this author before, but I am stunned at how moving and beautiful his prose is. The book is only made more lovely by the amazing and sensitive narration. I know I will listen to this video many more times. Thank you Jerry!
I see that I commented on this book two years ago, and since, I have listened to it three or four times, and it gets better each time. It's one of the best stories, sensitively read, that I have ever heard.
I was a seagoing man from age seventeen to age forty, although my "boats" were steel-hulled and had big guns rather than masts & ropes, and nets & trawls. But I was there, upon the sea, aboard six different "boats," all over the World. I understood every word, and felt every emotion. I loved the father and the son, and disliked and resented the mother. This is a good story, just the right length. I would that every story on here was like this...I could read one per day easily. Thank you for stirring my memory banks, and bless the men on the sea, and those lovely-ugly boats that give such happiness to so many men.
Its beautiful and crazy to think about how much emotion is involved in everything. As a person who as no connections to fishing by any means, when someone acknowledges 'fishermen', to the term is bluntly a career, which is not really anything exceptional to societal norms and standards, but when you look deeper into a fisherman's life, and from his perspective, there's massive emotion and attachment to it, and this is true with every profession in this world regardless of how it is weighed, if one does that profession with passion, there's massive emotion into it.
🌹🥁
Beautifully written and read. Thank you for posting this.
A beautiful story, beautifully read.....thank you.💕
This story was polished word by word. It was a work of a master of the craft of writing. Beautiful, touching, emotional. You can almost feel the harsh winter and salt coming from the sea. As a brazilian - and not very familiar with canadian authors, except one or two - I had never heard of the author, but now I need to read more of his books. And the narrator found the perfect nostalgic tone. First I heard the story, then I read it. Amazing!
Brasilian. Grew up in Campinas.
Ikr
@@stigyanblue1442 lkr? I'm, like, l, m, n, o, p!
@@tamsintarshish3905 I've read Wilde (just The Picture of Dorian Gray). Of Joyce I've tried Ulysses - unfinished - and a couple of pages of Finnegan's Wake - which seemed impossible to me. I'm gonna check McCourt, thank you!
@@davidwaldheim1147ee
I could listen to this a hundred times and not get bored. Thank you, algorithms !
Listening to this in class instead of reading and you did a great job thanks
Same lol
Heck! This is good stuff! 😯👏❤
Such poetic story about a waste not want not life. Echoes of every boat I've ever seen go out to sea....
Loved the way you narrated this story. Very melancholic
Not that melancholic, except the ending when he described fishing his Father out. The daughters leaving one by one is always the norm especially when a loving Son is left to do his duty. The Parents relationship was stoic with Dad knowing his girls would leave. Mum struggled with change but still had her boy.
Thank you so much for this wonderful slices of life and nostalgia
Beautifully written and read. Moving. Thank you.
Wonderful short story; excellent reading of it as well.
Thank you!!! Been looking for one for months
Reading this in class instead of reading the paper copie lol thank you
Beautiful!
It’s been years since I last read this one. I enjoyed having it read to me.
I really like your readings.
Beautifully read, thank you!
Very poignant story ❤
This was good. I thought I would use it to fall asleep, but I didn't. 😏 And a very good voice for narration, very pleasant.
A brilliant piece of writing, and so beautifully read. Thanks.
Thank you Sir.
I re listen to The Boat nearly every night. Your narration is lovely and very calming
Bravo and a million thank you's Sir.
I enjoyed this, I have a few of his books. When I read this book, I heard it in my head with a Cape Breton accent. I had to ignore the Mainland accent of the narrator. Please don’t take that as a negative comment, please.
Wonderful story. 🙏🏽
I love this story, it makes me wish I would have made an effort in writing a story of my own.
Thank you guys.
Cracking yarn this reminds of the fishermen off the west coast of Scotland
I just fall in love with your voice . It's so soothing and calming . You inspire me to read more . And it really helps me managing my anxiety . I am your new subscriber now . Keep it up . You are doing awesome.
Thank you! 🙏
Loved it!
Beautiful
nice reading voice
Thx. It helped me with my Exam 🌸
okay cool. and?
did i ask?
no
@@jebby281games6
*"Not the whole world revolves around you"*
Looks like that was what you were trying to say but it really backfired on you.
Do you have to be so rude, really? 😐
Incredible
Too lazy to read it myself, thank you haha.
I’m currently working a 12 hour shift in a remote railroad signal box, it has 360 degree panoramic views. In front of me is the ocean and the sun is glinting on calm waters, behind me are mountains, I can see tiny white specs moving up and down the mountains (sheep). Either side are lush green meadows which produce vibrant beautiful colours from wild flowers in the summer time.
The signal box is an old Victorian wooden building. The old pendulum clock is tick tocking in a very mediative rhythm on the wall.
My dog is curled up asleep next to the old log burning stove . The wind is trying to make its way through the thin panes of glass which makes a beautiful haunting sound
The resident Robin is outside on the steps eagerly pecking at the bread & biscuits crumbs I’ve thrown out for him.
It’s a far cry from my last career in the city , I was well groomed and sharp suits , nice car and big house until one day ( 3 years ago) I saw the light after being forced to lay off some people at my company. It hit me hard & I just couldn’t live with myself anymore. I handed in my notice and walked out . The Universe came to my rescue and found this job for me,
now I have long hair & beard and look like Grizzly Adams . I’ve taken up painting with water colours and I’m regularly bringing my paint pads here to work.
I regularly have this channel playing in the background.
The only person I see occasionally is an old farmer who drives by on an old open top tractor, he’s an old man with a flat cap, bright red face, his sheep dog between his legs with its front paws placed on the steering wheel .
I call him “ Farmer Jones” although I’ve actually no idea what his real name is.
He acknowledges me by raising his index finger off the steering wheel of his 1950’s tractor that has seen many many years of extreme mountain winters.
Both Farmer Jones & his old sheep dog stare straight ahead without flinching.
Where they go is a mystery as the the old drovers track goes on for miles way up into the mountains, they normally drive back past about 5.30pm and disappear back into the mountains in the opposite direction.
He’s a tall man with 1970’s hair cut , kind of reminds me of an old Clint Eastwood stature . I’m sure he must have been a very handsome man in his day . I imagine the local girls hoping to catch his eye on a Saturday night at the old village hall dance.
I’m guessing that there was once a Mrs farmer Jones but judging from the vacant stare of both him and his dog that they both experienced “ THE DAY !“ that life for them stood still” .
Mrs Jones was getting ready to leave their old white washed mountain top farm to do the weekly shop in the local town , she’d been looking at a fancy catalog which had arrived in the post and had been looking at a beautiful summer dress that she wanted to buy for their daughter who’d got married some years before and had moved to the city suburbs with her husband and had recently had a child.
As she was leaving she noticed a dead rat laying under the kitchen table . She thought oh thank god ‘Dylan’ the sheep dog finally killed that damn thing, it’s been raiding the pantry for months , he’s such a good dog considering his young age, I do love him .
Mrs J got into the old car which took a few turns to start and slowly made her way down the old drovers track towards what can be loosely called a road , she glanced up at the mountains opposite her and saw Mr J and Dylan as specs in the distance rounding up sheep. She loved them both with all the love of a woman’s heart.
She made her way along the road until arriving at a T junction of a main road , to the left was the local town however Mrs J turned right . ( if you asked her why she turned right on that particular day, all she could tell you is that …. All intention , meaning, thought , feelings just evaporated, “ I was a whispy summer cloud that drifts with absolutely no control , it came out of nowhere and yet I was connected to everything in the universe!! I just kept on driving , I wasn’t aware I was driving!!).
Mr J & Dylan had arrived back many hours ago from the mountains as it was getting dark , he knew something was wrong as did Dylan , both fearing the worst . The phone line was down as usual but he’d managed to get the word out that Mrs J was missing.
3 days go by and Mr J looks at the open page in the catalog and think … You stupid man, I should have bought her something fancy !! I should have noticed, he wipes away a tear .
Dylan noticed the rat he killed for his mama and had left it there so she could see she didn’t have to fret no more about it eating food from the parlour. Dylan thought .. it’s my fault she left I should never have left that rat in the kitchen.
THE DAY !!
Fast forward many years and that vacant stare is still there as they both go over that day forever
. Mrs J found herself in the suburbs of a City she’d only visited once and followed a vaguely familiar road until she arrived and parked outside a vaguely familiar house.
Marie her daughter was playing in the front garden with her new 1 year old child , something made her look up and notice an old beat up car parked on the road just in front of the gate. A female telepathy kicks in “ She knew “
she walks to the car and opens the driver door . The Female glance of eyes meeting for a split second carries more information than any Male could ever comprehend nor fathom.
No words required, Marie took her mother by the hand sat her down at the kitchen table whilst she prepared the spare guest portion of the house .
Mrs J stayed for a month until she left with a note to her Daughter “ Thank you “ !!
. Mrs J these days is still with us but not with us . THAT DAY she dissolved back into the universe !!
so Anyway, I’ve another train coming so I’d better go and pull a signal lever !!!
I Look at the passengers faces as the train passes by, some have their heads in their phones , some stare emotionless out of the window , lost in their thoughts as life takes them on an individual journey of lost lioves, love, despair, anger , worry , contentment.
It’s a journey we all must make …God speed to you all ❤️🙏🙏
I have often wondered about how I can feel nostalgia for something I never knew. I have had the feeling many times, but listening to this story gave me that feeling - a feeling of something that is gone, and will never come back - a feeling of wanting to catch something that is pulling out of my grasp, abut not being able to reach it. I loved the story, and when it ended, I immediately listened to it again. It is rare that I feel that way about anything - but this was special. I'm sure I will listen again in a few months, or in a year.
Edit : I have listened to this essay probably 5 times in the last couple of years, and I find it a wonderful, captivating piece of writing, read for us by the perfect voice. If you enjoyed it as I have, look at this video of a Cape Island fishing boat - it perfectly sets the piece in context.
ruclips.net/video/u_kU5o5LDKw/видео.html
A powerful story
Beautiful:As if from life
Jerry, please read more stories from Alistair MacLeod's book "Island, The Complete Stories". It's the book that " The Boat" came from. Thanks!
“Trailing their fingers through the waters of their dreams……”
Enjoy thanks for that
Well, that's some cheerer upper.
Cool
I could feel that mother's contempt in her children's personal choices, how she hated that they defied tradition; tradition in itself a senseless peer pressure from dead generations. Why couldn't bshe have been happy in any measure that her children prospered and escaped the death trap of a small fishing town, which in turn made her so depressed?
Sometimes we need to broaden our perspective and think from how the other person thinks, or how the other 10 people think. It is beautiful to see how many perspectives create a frame in an argument, and that one's phycological upbringing, their environment, their culture and traditions all effect their thinking or world perspective. The mother always lived in a small town and had a captivated thinking about anything which would liberate them from the town, to her family, fishing was religious and they did everything orderly, she was not introduced to any other perspectives and had no interest either. I agree with you that she should be open and happy towards her child's success, but we can also understand her perspective if we look into into it. I think traditions are important, especially many that are scientifically formed for the welfare of our society, but modifying them and addition to them is important as time progresses, and it is evident that those cultures that were successfully able to do so have rode the means of time well, some of like the Hindu civilizations, and the eastern-Africans traditions, and many others
@@rushil505 true. At least she didn't choose to cut them out of her life from spite, like some do.
Using this to listen be able to "read it" while I play games outside of class lmao. If you see this Ms. Milton, Hi.
I love the voice!
I am because of we. Give us your gift...PLEASE PICK & READ MORE STORIES!!! me throwing a tantrum because I don't get what I want instantly
You should also read "Wayside School is Falling Down" and "Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark."
2:30
I was ok with the ending right up to the description of the dead. It did not add anything to the story.
Also since Halloween is coming if you find the time you should read Alvin Schwartz's "Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark"
32:28
If you read the "Go Jump in the Pool" book whenever you start a new paragraph you should have a splashing sound effect like someone has jump into a pool.
Can you please read the Sequel to "This Can't Be Happening at Macdonald Hall" "Go Jump in the Pool?"
That is a good one! Will add it to the list for sure.
THIS SHIT IS ABSOLUTELY FIRE ON MUTE 🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯🔇🔇
tom cruise?
Not what I expected. Should have chosen otherwise.
... sounds like one of those workshop writers. To me, sadly they nearly all write and sound the same. To find yr own voice, you gotta break the mold
put some life info teading these stories , man
I'm not going to lie. What gohnnorea of a story. He sounds like he needs a theropist. Just joking. It sounds like 45min of straight details.
You're reading is good but the story is lame
Pretentious bs