I tended to a trap, and then looked back at the boat while preparing to bait the next trap. This time a little head with a pony-tail popped up over the rail. The head barely cleared the rail when this sternman was standing. He had his little girl sterning for him! A sternlady in training! I thought this was neat and couldn't help but watch her each time I had the chance. I don't think she was more than 5-years-old, but she had her own oil pants and a little baseball cap, just like me! She had a blue bucket that she splashed water around with, keeping the boat tidy while her dad worked. Pretty cute.
This brought me back to the days when I used to "help" my Daddy. My dad was captain of two draggers when I was little,
as I've mentioned before, and he was my hero even back then. I loved it when Mommy took me to the boat to see what Daddy and his crew were working on. I distinctly remember climbing down the huge ladder (which isn't so big now) to get to his boat. I remember the smell of Ritz crackers and Gojo in the wheelhouse. Even though I couldn't really help Daddy work back then (I was only 4 or 5), I was thrilled by the adventure of visiting Daddy's boat.
When my dad stopped fishing (one boat sank and he sold the other in the government buy-out program), he continued to take me to work in the summers. He had his own appliance repair business and took me with him to people's houses. By that age I could actually be of use. I learned the tools that he used so that I could pass them to him. I removed screws and held the flashlight for him when his hands were busy. The customers were charmed that he brought his "little helper" along. I, of course, loved it. I drew Daddy pictures that he put up behind his head in his work van.
To this day, I continue to be my dad's right-hand-woman. On the 4th of July I spent my evening helping Daddy replace a fridge on the third floor of our family inn. It turned out to be quite a challenge. We had to wheel the fridge out to the tiny balcony on a dolly, remove the porch railing, and wheel it down 2 flights of stairs. At that point one of the guests at the cottages appeared and asked if we needed help. My dad said that we were doing fine and that he had a lobsterman helping him. The older man looked at me skeptically. I admit, my attire didn't exactly make me look like a sternlady. I was sporting a skort and tank top with cute little sneakers. I looked more like I was on my way to a tennis match than moving heavy appliances up and down 3 stories. He ended up helping us and the fridge slid into place with ease. It wasn't a very restful day, but it was satisfying none-the-less.
I realized yesterday when I was helping Daddy, that maybe one reason that I am the way that I am is because I am both an only child and a girl. My dad didn't have a son to take out fishing and to teach how to fix and build things. So in some ways I learned
both the skills that are traditionally taught to girls as well as the ones taught to boys. This was reinforced by the fact that I am interested in learning these skills of self-sufficiency. I don't believe that my father would have treated me any differently had I been a boy or if I had a brother. But I think that being an only daughter did in some way shape my self-perception, which ultimately influenced the type of jobs that I've chosen. I think being raised to believe that I can do anything that I put my mind to (without a brother challenging that idea) has encouraged me to do some of the hardest work around: lobstering. This mentality has also instilled a solid work ethic in me. If I am capable of doing anything that I set my mind to, then I am able to do anything! There are no excuses to prove otherwise.
I hope very much to some day have a little girl of my own. I'm gonna show that girl how to do everything.
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