© Robin Chotzinoff
Robin, a fine singer and songwriter from Denver, Colorado, sent me this song about her friends back on Long Island, NY. The original white settlers of that area, the "Bonackers" (who lived mostly around Acabonack Creek and Harbor) are more and more hard pressed to make a living in that increasingly crowded and polluted place.
Both Robin and I have apparently changed the words a little over the years. She says she's not fussy about it, but I include the words she originally sent to me in the booklet. The arrangement here is mostly Robin's own; the twelve-string is only trying to give the flavor of her strong piano-playing.
It wasn't like this last year
It wasn't like this at all
We were taking the blues and thr groupers
From February into the fall
You to ask yourself what happened
When you're up against the wall
It wasn't like this last year
It wasn't like this at all.
Speak, speak, Bonack
It's a fair gant end to the bayman's day
Speak, speak Bonac
All the children are moving away
Has it come down plain
Is it time to seine
On another bay?
And could these be the Lesters
Who used to run this town
When the right whale swam off Ponquogue
They would sail their tall ships down
There were Lesters in the rigging
Lesters on the Sound
Could these old men be the Lesters
Who used to run this town?
Speak, speak Bonac…
Last night when you went fishing
And I saw you face to face
I knew as clear as a bell through the fog
That you'd never leave this place
No more can the hunter in the sky
Give up his fruitless chase
It's as clear as a bell through the fog at night
When I saw you face to face
It's as clear as a bell through the fog at night
That you'll never leave this place.
Speak, speak Bonac…
Another Bay is recorded on the album Schooners and is in the songbook One to Sing, One to Haul