Ever since the commercial fishery was declared a federal economic disaster in 2000, fishermen in this coastal community of lazuline waters midway between Los Angeles and San Francisco have fought to hang on to their historic livelihood.

Pierce, then, with thought’s steel probe, the trodden ground, Till passion’s buried floods be found; Intend thine eye Into the dim and undiscover’d sky Whose lustres are the pulsings of the heart, And promptly, as thy trade is, watch to chart The lonely suns, the mystic hazes and throng’d sparkles bright That, named and number’d right In sweet, transpicuous words, shall glow alway With Love’s three-stranded ray, Red wrath, compassion golden, lazuline delight.’