Survival Memoir Audiobook -- Down to Earth, Everyman

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Description

The true story of a Montauk fisherman surviving lost as sea.

Vocal Characteristics

Language

English

Voice Age

Middle Aged (35-54)

Accents

North American (General)

Transcript

Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
did you go clamming today? I ask Anthony as he arrives, which he does by jumping down from the dock onto the deck of the anna mary this morning. Yeah, Anthony goes clamming and oystering almost whenever he can. He doesn't just wait and wait for what he can pick up either. He puts on fins and a mask with snorkel and goes venturing out to explore more deeply, searching for the very best specimens. The kind that fetch the best price he's been doing this ever since we were kids. Did you call bob or Marie at the fish farm? He asks me now, they're good with taking our catch. All good. I answer, We're getting things ready preparing to head out to sea for the next 30 hours or more checking our traps and lines and other equipment and waiting for our supplies of bait to be delivered. I see Anthony zeroing in on one of the lobster traps we've just repaired. He examines it seems okay to him. I get a whiff of cigarette smoke coming out of the wheelhouse, that would be mike Migliaccio, our crew member for this trip. As for many, many trips over the years. Mikey, I yell smoke outside, will you? You're killing me with this stuff. Mike emerges, puffing smoke. Migliaccio is rarely without a Marlboro red stuck between his lips. It is one reason if only one why he is a man of very few words. Hey, mike, Anthony yells out, You still living at Gary's place. The painful taunting of crew members by captains is a cherished tradition aboard fishing vessels. So co captain Anthony is taking his turn against crew member Migliaccio. Mike spits the cigarette butt overboard. I'm moving out of there. He declares that place is a mess. We laugh. Mike does too. L&L pulls up with our bait, their bait wholesaler from up island bay shore, to be exact, about 75 miles west of us, and they're here to drop off some £2,000 of frozen bunker and skate in large cardboard flats. The three of us unload debate into 20 plastic crates stacked behind the wheelhouse and then supplement it with baskets full of by catch from other boats along the dock. In this business, nothing goes to waste.