8 // COASTWEEKEND.COM
Voices of the Lower Columbia
Tom Hilton captures bygone
language in terse verse
ONLINE ONLY
Check out two examples of FisherPoet
Tom Hilton’s poetry at coastweekend.com
By PATRICK WEBB
FOR COAST WEEKEND
‘I WILL TAKE A PHRASE ...
THEN I DANCE AROUND
WITH IT AND SEE WHAT FITS.’
T
om Hilton is a smooth-talking ency-
clopedia of the Lower Columbia
River. One look at his worn hands
confirms this commercial fisherman has
walked the walk.
Hilton, 54, is among high-profile speak-
ers appearing at this year’s 22nd annual
FisherPoets Gathering.
And the Uniontown man’s efforts to
preserve the language of fishers will be on
display in its raw, plaid-shirted best.
“I was inspired by a lot of friends of
mine,” he said. “I have met some won-
derful poets ... When we get together we
all tease each other. It’s not just beer and
camaraderie, but that feeling of belonging
to something that is greater than ourselves
— and that’s the freedom of the open sea.”
When Hilton joined the Gathering 10
years ago, he wanted to establish a style
different from admired regulars Geno
Leach of Chinook, Wash., and Dave Dens-
more of Astoria.
“It took me a little while to find my
identity as a fisherpoet,” he said. “With
friends, it’s easy to be yourself, but to go
in front of 300 people who don’t know you
...”
Jon Broderick, guiding light for the
FisherPoets Gathering, said Hilton is a
confident performer. “Tom’s poetry really
brings it all to life, just like a song,” he
said. “He is quite a talker.
“He’s got the cred, he’s local and he’s
got creativity and good performing energy.
He works the waterfront. He could be the
mascot for the FisherPoets!” Broderick
said.
Son of ‘Skip’
Today, Hilton runs Hanthorn Crab Co.
and Pier 39 Seafood, close by Floyd Hol-
com who has fished with him for eons,
seeking to promote crab and oysters.
A career on the water was inevitable.
“I am the last one — the last generation of
kids that grew up when there were still can-
neries up and down the river,” Hilton said.
All his aunts and cousins worked at the
Bumble Bee cannery. Hilton’s grandfather,
William, was a longshoreman and gillnet-
ter, and so was his father, Finnish immi-
Tom Hilton, fisherpoet
Patrick Webb photos
Fisherpoet Tom Hilton points to a familiar name on the Astoria Maritime Memorial. He says
preserving the voices of the Lower Columbia River is about ‘the power of our language,
tradition and history. For some people, it’s walking back in time.’
She did an amazing job.”
Like her, Hilton cherishes the voices of
the Lower River.
“That’s how I started. I was pushed by
my friends to do it, and I wanted to carry
on the language. I started with open mic
and my buddies challenged me to do it.”
One poem was written on a boat
grounded for two days. Mostly, however,
he taps ideas into the notes section of his
teal cellphone, then lets them gel.
“It takes long time to write. I get inspi-
ration driving down the highway,” he said.
“I take phrases and mix them around.
“My poetry isn’t like Walt Whitman or
Coleridge. Mine is more like prose.
“I will take a phrase, note it on the
phone, then I dance around with it and see
what fits. They all come from what I have
experienced, all with the language of the
Lower River.”
End of a dynasty
LEFT: Astoria’s Maritime Memorial Park preserves the names of Tom Hilton’s parents, employers
and fishing buddies who together tell the history of the Lower River. This commemorates his
late father, A.V. ‘Skip’ Hilton. RIGHT: Tom Hilton’s hands attest to decades working on the water.
grant Art Hilton, known as “Skip” or by his
initials A.V.
“I started fishing with my Dad in 1970
when I was 6 years old. My dad was the
greatest fisherman the Union Cannery
had,” Hilton said. “Then we went to Alaska
in 1977 when I was 13.”
“Skip” was one of four members of the
“Bunkhouse Gang” whose exploits wrote
West Coast folklore. Another was his best
friend Bill Gunderson — called “The
Swede.” The two died within 24 hours of
each other in 2012.
Tom Hilton said they and Wally Nel-
son — “The King” — were his mentors. “I
fished with him when I was 18,” he said.
“‘The King’ taught me everything. He
knew every grain of sand on that river out
there.”
‘Time Bomb’
Hilton sailed back and forth between the
Lower Columbia and Alaska, fishing for
salmon in Cook Inlet and the Kenai Penin-
sula, earning the nickname “Time Bomb,”
the title of a song by punk rock band Ran-
cid. He also fished for herring near San
Francisco.
His one break was earning a bachelor’s
degree in speech communication at Port-
land State University in the early 1990s.
He credits Columbia River writer-his-
torian Irene Martin for paving his way.
“She’s the one who preserved the language.
Much of his best writing is done at the
Cannery Pier Hotel, a waterfront site rich
in cannery tradition across from the Asto-
ria Maritime Memorial Park, where his
late parents, mentors and neighbors are
commemorated.
During a brief tour, his fingers poke cer-
tain names with a casual reverence. “All
that’s left is legend, names etched in a
granite wall,” he said, a line from one of
his poems. He is especially proud that the
outline of his family’s boat, the Thunder-
bolt, adorns multiple listings.
His son is a professional actor, so the
dynasty ends with him.
“There’s a lot of guys who fish that
could have Ph.Ds., but fishing allows them
to have freedom that nothing else in the
world allows them to have,” Hilton said.
“It could be called one-ness, with the
tide, everything. It connects us with our
past, our present, and with the food that we
eat.” CW