3:30AM, awake. Off to a late start.
Headed up to the Bronx again today for some fresh catch from the New Fulton Fish Market. It’s a man’s world up there and there’s little warm and fuzzy about it. That’s the charm. I’m met with furrowed brow and a hurried shoulder by most after one look at my camera. They work hard, gaffing gills and shoveling ice all through the night ensuring our plates from grocer’s market to restaurant are stocked with the freshest specimens from the sea. I can imagine it’s a tough job. I’ve spent quite a bit of time upon a commercial fishing boat with my father and uncle, inside Alaskan canneries with friends, and in the fish markets from Seattle to Peru. The work is hard, the pace is grueling, and the scene can get ugly.
I wonder, maybe one of the few things these men work for is just to say they have done it.
Like most places and most things though it’s not hard to find a smile and gentleman eager to share his knowledge and show you what he does. In turn each time I learn a little something…