Like Father, Unlike Daughter

A few times in the process of being interrogated about lobstering, I have been asked how I like my captain. This is a good question, because one's boss plays a prominent role in whether a person is content with their job. There are innumerable captains who I wouldn't be happy working with. To be honest, I can't imagine working with a better captain, but I guess I'm a little biased. I probably wouldn't still be lobstering today if Cap hadn't been the one inviting me back aboard. My response to their question: "I really enjoy working with him. He's kinda a fatherly figure for me."

In fact a few times other fishermen have made the assumption that I am Cap's daughter.

This winter Cap was talking with another lobsterman on the dock when I came up the ladder from the boat. "Oh look," he remarked pleasantly. "You brought your daughter along."

Cap replied: "No, that's my sternman."

Duh, I thought to myself.

The other instance occurred just last week, also at the dock. Cap went to get the boat and I stayed at the dock, unloading the truck. Another boat pulled up and the captain asked me: "You waiting for your dad?"

"No, just waiting on Cap."

I asked where his helper was.

"Oh, she has the day off. She's 13, my friend's daughter, and I don't think she really likes the smell of the bait."

A sternlady in training! I thought to myself.

"She'll get used to it," I lied.

"Yeaaaah. . ." was his skeptical response.

While Cap and I both have brown, wavy hair and wear glasses, the resemblance ends there. In fact, I don't think we look anything alike at all. He is 6' and lanky, yet muscular. I am 5' 5" and, well, sturdy. Not fat, not thin, just sturdy. The only reason that others might mistaken us for kin is due to our age difference. Cap is 33 years older than me. In other words, he is old enough to be my father. In fact, I grew up with his son, who is just about my age. The other reason that they might assume our association is familial is that there aren't many women who aren't blood relatives, wives, or girlfriends of lobstermen who choose to be sternladies.

Although I don't think we look alike, our working relationship shares some aspects of my relationship with my father. Cap is a thoughtful, considerate and gentle person, as is my dad. He treats me very well and I try to do the same for him. For Christmas I gave him a headlamp, so that he could better see while working in the engine compartment and free up his hands. I watched him use it in the dark bowels of the boat, the headlamp emitting a pinprick of a laser beam that appeared almost impossible to aim at his target. He exclaimed how well it worked, sweetly. He let me take home a few lobsters for the holidays, which I brought to my dad as his Christmas present.

Yet, our relationship is also unlike father and daughter in a good way. I am patient and forgiving with Cap at times when I would have extreme difficulty being so with my own father. There have been many occasions when I have thought to myself: Good thing Cap's teaching me this and not Daddy. Sometimes I am unable to listen to my dad's instructions as I should. And sometimes he is simply unable to teach me things. This isn't to say that I haven't learned anything from my father, as he has taught me a great deal in life and I am very grateful for that. It is simply to acknowledge that I am also grateful to have a fatherly figure who isn't my father and who can teach me many things about the ocean.