The Bay Rats
Mermaids, Mayhem, and Murder
by
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Yes, I know selling these two most of what I bought out here along the shores of this island has been working out pretty well. Having been placed in this position by no means of my own is something I kinda never thought would last as long as it has. After all, these boys weren't the kind you played games with. No, they're more like the kind you read about — you know, the connected no-bullshit you-watch-my-back-and-we' ll-watch-yours type
of guys. Yeah, family was everything to these people, and they figured if you were fortunate enough to be brought into it, you best consider yourself lucky. But in reality, they were the type of relatives most of us do our best to
avoid. I've tried to stay on the outer edges of this "family circle," but with our relationship as far as business goes, the circle keeps shrinking.
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About the Book
Have you ever wondered about going back, you know, living your life over again — a redo, if you will?
What would you say if such an opportunity surfaced? I'm sure each of us has pondered such an event at least once in our lives. I know I have. After all, time has a way of moving awfully slowly while pulling on a clam rake. The fact is the Great South Bay and her white caps have always had a way of bringing the what-ifs out of me. I sometimes thought I'd probably leave well enough alone. Heck, I liked what I did. Yes, it was difficult, all right, but I enjoyed the challenge. Scratching out a living had never been an easy undertaking, and like a lot of things, it became harder over time. Islanders knew what was expected of them out there on that bay and were willing to accept her demands. We were also happy to receive its rewards. But like it's been said, nothing lasts forever.
Our world, Long Island's shellfish business, began to change. I suppose you could say it began to do what most things do when their brought up from the bottom — smell. The stink came about quicker than most of us baymen ever thought it would.
As the inevitable end of a once-great era drifted closer, digger after digger began lifting anchor. However, a few did hold tight, refusing to alter course. As we watched our once peaceful, always beautiful way of life drift off, we cringed as a different, much harsher way of surviving sailed up. As the business we knew spoiled, we stood fast, trying our best to fend off the inevitable. The battles that followed, as hopeless as they eventually were, did offer us something — another day.
Hmmm, come to think of it, maybe I would tweak a few things!