Right Where I Should Be

Despite my periodic campaigns to find a more routine and intellectually-stimulating job, I sometimes wonder if maybe I'm right where I should be. Maybe the fact that Cap called me on my second to last day of my lobster research internship last fall looking for a sternman wasn't so coincidental after all. And maybe, by very slim chance, the fact that I actually answered the lab phone when he called was yet another "non-coincidence."

I have recently been offered a lucrative position as fisheries observer. I've been thinking a lot about it lately. I've had many reservations regarding this job, one being that it involves a lot of travel, and I want to continue living on the Peninsula. The other day when I became motion sick from writing on the boat, I realized that I probably won't be able to be a fisheries observer for exactly that reason. The job description boils down to recording data (writing) on boats. This conclusion in addition to many other factors made me grateful for my current job. I have committed to work with Cap at least for the summer and possibly the fall.

Silly as it may sound, watching the Disney movie "Walle" tonight reminded me of the importance of living off of the land and the sea as opposed to becoming swept up in the movement to develop and modernize. Cap has told me on numerous occasions in an attempt to keep me on as his sternlady that "fishermen are needed" in the world today. I don't think I quite grasped the full meaning of this statement until this evening. Not only is fishing preserving a local tradition, but it is carrying on a way of life.

My closest friend is a farmer. I often feel like I can relate to her for this reason. We have the same schedule (early to bed, early to rise) as well as the same sense of tedium (whether it's baiting traps or sowing seeds) and satisfaction (harvesting fish or vegetables). Our common values have led us to choose similar lifestyles. We speak the same language.

It is an ongoing struggle for me to choose between "climbing the ladder" (returning to school in order to qualify for bigger jobs with more rewards) versus "back to the land" (or the sea in my case). In some ways it's a conflict between the old way of life and the new. But what it really comes down to is values. The "new" life represents money, luxury, and prestige. The "old" life represents . . . doing what you love and what feels right. When the choices are cast in these terms, there's no question in my mind which path I need to take right now. And it doesn't involve puking over the rail of trawlers all summer.