The Fog Warning

A halibut fisherman on the Grand Banks glances back at the fog bank rolling toward him. His dory rides low with fish, the mother ship is a speck on the horizon, and the viewer understands — before he does, perhaps — that he must row for his life.

Homer fished these waters himself and painted the workingmen's sea without romance: heavy swell, honest labour, weather that does not negotiate. Children love this picture; grown fishermen go quiet in front of it.

Two halibut lie across the thwarts, painted wet — you can almost smell them. On the horizon, the white sails of the Gloucester fleet shrink toward safety while the fog, grey-green and solid as a wall, fills the whole left of the canvas.