Fishing 02

Carl A Olshenske

March 20, 1944 ~ September 22, 2021 (age 77)

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Obituary

Captain Carl “Bigfoot” Olshenske

Capt. Carl Olshenske, 77, passed away unexpectedly on Wednesday, September 22, 2021 in his home in Islamorada, FL. He was born on March 20, 1944 in Pittsburgh, PA. A graduate of North Hills High School.

He attended the University of Pittsburgh and was a veteran of the U.S. Air Force (medic). Carl is survived by his brother Paul (Elizabeth) of Baden, PA and 7 nieces and nephews. He is preceded in death by his father Carl Sr., mother Gertrude, sister Patricia Grant, brother Michael, beloved macaw Lucy and himalayan cat Baryshnikov. Carl was captain of the Red Red Wine, a skilled fisherman and snorkel guide, a certified USCG PADI Divemaster, a NCDOT Ferry Division crew member, a USCG captain for Boy Scouts of America, an Everglades National Park boat tour captain and a self-proclaimed pirate (200 years too late). Often referred to as “larger than life”, he spent time with his favorite people in his favorite places...Islamorada, FL and Ocracoke, NC.

Please raise a glass to Capt. Carl as we toast him farewell. To fair winds and calm seas.

Arrr.

A celebration of his extraordinary life will be planned for a future date. In lieu of flowers, donations can be

made to the Bread of Life Food Pantry (Ocracoke, NC) and MarrVelous Pet Rescues & Adoptions Islamorada, FL 

Sea Fever

By John Masefield 1913

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;

And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,

And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;

And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,

And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,

To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,

And a quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

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