Third Grade
Worksheets
The Best Catch
Ammon pulled manfully on the oars. On a calm sea, it would have been easy to row the small dory out to the fishing grounds. Today the water was far from calm.
The waves pitched the boat up and down. Sometimes it wallowed in a trough, and other times it bobbed up and down on the waves. The gray clouds hung low and made the water appear gray, too. It looked like it could storm again.
Uncle Sean was already baiting a line in the bow of the boat. Ammon prayed for a good catch of cod. Fishing had been poor last week, and the storm intense. Lightning had raked the sky over and over, the thunder cracking and rolling without end.
When the storm finally ended, two boats hadn't made it back to the cove. One was the O'Connell boat, Merry Maid, and the other was his father's dory. Ammon's dad and Uncle Pat were missing.
Ammon preferred to think of his dad as just missing. They might never know if he was dead from the storm. In the meantime, he was the eldest son. It fell on his shoulders to look after his family.
The other dories nearby bounced up and down with the waves. Their oil-skin clad occupants were little more than silhouettes under the cloudy sky.
Ammon was glad he had the spare coat and hat his father had left in the closet. The hat had a wide rim at the back which kept water from going down the back of his neck. The coat also repelled water, and so did his pants. They weren't really comfortable, but he supposed he'd get used to it.
They were hardly at the fishing grounds before Uncle Sean had a line over the side. If they started getting bites here, Ammon knew it would be his job to keep the boat in position.
Wind-whipped spray splattered the side of Ammon's face. With both hands on the oars, he had to leave it to slowly run down his neck. He shivered. That was cold, despite it being in the middle of summer.
