i probably posted this before but can't read 1800 messages to confirm. anyway, little song to tune of boys of killybegs/meeting of the waters

Fishing's in our blood but now our boats are filled with mud
And our docks are smashed and scattered far and wide
And our nets and floats and gear are taken far from here
And they drift upon the ocean and the tide

Island folk are we who make our living from the sea
But we know too well the shaking of the ground
I jumped into my boat though fear was in my throat
And I passed by many men I knew would drown

For the island to be saved I had to head into that wave
I just did what any fisherman would do
30 meters high and it blotted out the sky
And I had to just hold on and plough on through

You across the seas who gather our debris
Do you hear our cries above the ocean's roar
And as our boats wash in do you think of all those men
Who will have fishing in their hearts forevermore