Each wreath a loving memory to
Someone departed and gone;
Each flower a scented tribute that
Breathes from our heart a song.

Each little ship has a Captain and
Sometimes he's also the crew,
So he passes outward into the sea
To honor someone he knew ...

Not always the Admirals and Captains
Dressed in their uniforms neat,
Not always the mates and the Bos'uns
Are lost as we sail with the fleet.

The AB's and common sailors also get
Lost in the fray ..., and so
On this day we do honor to
Those who have gone by the way.

And let us not fail to remember
Not one word of praise to delete.
To pause for a moment of silence
For the Men of the Fishing Fleet ...

The fellows like Chambers, and Bowers,
Fred Houchen Ells, Odoms and the like,
Who fought with the mighty ocean
Hoping the fish would strike.

Flowers dropped ... now they're returning;
The ships come home to rest.
They paid a silent tribute
To those they loved the best.
And so there passes another day ...
The Fleet of Flowers at Depoe Bay.

... Captain George L. Lemon