Down to the Shoah

The average person "from away" sees fishermen and old-timers loafing down on the wharf and probably thinks they are lazy loiterers. Little do they know that the shorefront, commonly known as "the shore" is the common grounds for the exchange of valuable knowledge. Whether it's a work day or not, one will find trucks pulled up alongside each other in the parking lot of the local boat landings with windows rolled down and often smoke dissipating out of them. Young'uns and old-timers alike convene to discuss the weather, the local fishing politics, the catch, the market, etc. This information is usually exchanged in the form of bitching, a valuable skill in the world of fishing.

My grandpa is one of the regulars down at the local fishermen's co-op. Going down to the shore to drink his morning coffee and "hob nob" with the fishermen is his daily ritual. Every day he reports the marine conditions and how many boats left the Harbor. Grandpa was never a fisherman, yet he is a local celebrity of sorts and loves to socialize. The shore is where he gathers local news and tells stories about the "good ol' days." Wherever he goes, he leaves a wake of smiles and laughter behind him.

When I first started working with Cap I was initially impatient with the ancient ritual of hob-nobbing. As an eager greenhorn, I found it idle time that could be spent working. However, I can now better appreciate "shooting the shit" as informative to both our daily and seasonal schedule. I slowly learned that Cap was gathering information during this seemingly aimless banter. He learned valuable information, not only gossip, that helped him to make decisions. And in turn he shared words of wisdom with those less experienced members of the fishing community. They sometimes go to him for advice and pointers. I imagine that this, in addition to learning from his own experience of course, is how Cap started off learning to lobster.

This is true for the gossip that takes place on the VHF radio as well. Technically, the radio is meant to be used as a mode for fishermen to communicate urgent or helpful information in a curt manner. If a long casual conversation takes place on Channel 6, it could prevent another fisherman from making an emergency call. Therefore, it is courteous and respectful to keep things brief when relaying a message on the radio. However, once in a while you'll overhear a not-so-urgent exchange regarding the market price that day or about the conditions of the catch. I learned the importance of this kind of information when I first started working with Cap. I noticed that he slowed the hauler down periodically so as to better hear the conversation taking place on the radio.

So next time you see some fishermen loitering around a truck bed, sipping their Bud Lite, and complaining about their day, don't be so quick to judge. The last thing one can call them is lazy. Although this is their leisure time after work, they aren't necessarily off duty. They are simply having a very casual conference. Their rubber boots are the polished black shoes of the fishing world. Grundens are their suits. And if you haven't noticed, they wear their work shoes all the time, whether at work or at leisure. A lobsterman never stops thinking about his work. I suppose this is one of the curses of being self-employed. Yet I can't name one of them who would trade their spot down to the shoah for even the most lucrative of office jobs.