“Curse you, Damned old whore, beguiling bitch!
Curse your charms that lured him from me;
Curse the arms that, taking him, broke my heart
Curse your foul worms that eat his body!
Laying there basking in the sun, placid, calm;
Calling other young men to your bosom
Calling them to the boats that you break
Drag down and swallow. Damned old whore!
How many women, have you widowed?
How many, like me, have come to you for peace?”

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collingwood, ontario used to be a lake port. every young man of a certain generations "worked the boats". [a pecularity of language: a vessle 750 ft long, displacing 15,000 tonnes is, on the great lakes, a boat]. It was a risky occupation, the lakes are littered with wrecks--one storm in 1913
sank nineteen boats, damged twenty more and drowned 251.
the lakes have made plenty of widows.

c'wood has lost its shipyard, its port, its soul. it is now a trendy tourist place -- condos line the harbour--fewer lakers ply the lakes these days... fewer lads (and lasses) work the boats ...