The quirky title, which certainly makes you inquisitive, was a 19th century wake-up call to fishwives along the northern coasts of Britain, alerting them to the arrival of the herring fleets.
The women gutted the fresh fish and packed them in salt ready for export, avoiding accidents with their sharp knives by tying up their fingers in rags.
This splendid production, with its beautifully-crafted script - moving swiftly from laughter to drollery with unerring insight - tells the deeply moving story of three women for who the fishing industry provides the income which affects their daily lives and also underpins their social mythology.
A strong dramatic focus occurs when the generations collide.
Molly, who is an excitable teenager (Rose Leslie in a worthy performance), is anxious to join the fisherwomen down on the harbour, but her mother Jean (the compelling Eleanor Dennison) forbids it. Jean is a compulsively house-proud woman to the point of dementia and we know that the roots of all this (a husband lost at sea) lie within the tragic ruin of her life.
But woven into the songs and poignant interchanges between the three women (Bidi Iredale scores as Jean’s neighbour, Janet) is historical fact. In 1881, a freak storm out at sea caused the untimely deaths of 129 men and boys from one small fishing community.
As Janet describes her three teenage sons lying naked on the beach awaiting burial after the storm had subsided, the atmosphere in this functional community playing space, distils the essence of pure theatre.
When the three women move on and join the fishing lassies on the work trek down the coast, their determination proves that life can be halted temporarily, but not stopped.
Production information can change over the run of the show.
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