The Last Haul

About a month ago I declared to Cap that I'd like to finish fishing in mid-September. He wasn't happy with this news as I know that he hates the process of finding someone new. Cap likes continuity, understandably. Periodically since then I've been nudging him and asking if he had found anyone to replace me. All I got in reply were negative grunts. Last Monday I stuck to the plan and narrowed it down, setting a last day of work: today. This time Cap understood that I was serious. So today was my last haul.

It was a lovely day to end on. In fact the weather was so pleasant that I almost regretted quitting. The seas had been rough for the whole week up until today and I had previously been in a mindset of being ready to be done fishing. Fall is coming fast and I was eager to finish lobstering before the weather gets rough. Today it was summer again. My spirits lifted with the clouds. I enjoyed the gentle southerly breeze and the warm sun on my back.

There was only one glitch in the otherwise smooth day. We were shifting a load of traps. I had prepared the traps and rope while Cap tied on the buoy and searched for a good spot to set. He gave me the "ok," I set the tailer trap, he set the lead trap, the purple 20-fathom warp began to hiss over the rail. Then there was nothing but silence. Our eyes fell to the deck. The rest of the 50 fathoms of rope remained on deck, still. My heart sank. Yet I had tied all of the knots and seen the first coil slither over the rail. Apparently the coil was faulty. Cap took a few sweeps dragging the grapple to hook the tailer line, but to no avail. We moved on to the next pair, sullenly.

By the end of the day the sun was angled such that the light had turned golden and made the vibrant colors of water, sky and buoys that much richer. Being on the water at that time of day often makes me nostalgic. I looked out over the smooth water as I baited the last traps. I glanced towards Monhegan and noted how close it was. Looking back west towards home, I saw the Middle Grounds buoy in the distance. Sure enough, we were hauling further and further off shore (probably about 8 miles in that spot). Fall fishing was on the horizon, although it didn't feel like it at that moment.

Cap and I joked about sculpin. He had dared me to take one home to eat earlier in the summer, since I will eat just about anything from the sea. I almost did it today. We caught a big gnarly beast of a sculpin and Cap gutted it for me. When he emptied the gut cavity he pointed out some black parasites on the lining of the cavity that looked just like ticks. I sliced the meat to see if there were many worms. The laceration squirmed with parasitic life. I promptly tossed it in the bait tray, to string it on the bait line in the next trap. Today I concluded that "Sculpin is bait, not food." (Intended as a play off of the Finding Nemo Fish Anonymous mantra repeated by the shark members "Fish are friends, not food.")

At the end of the day Cap offered to carry my bucket overflowing with Jonah and spider crabs up to our vehicles, like the gentleman that he is. I kept all of the crabs that we caught today for my frozen seafood collection. I have been picking out crab every other night to freeze it and later make crabcakes. I will be eating the fish, crab, and lobster that we caught well into the winter.

When we reached the parking lot, I handed Cap a scrap of paper with a name and number of a prospective sternman scribbled on it. We made small talk about the catch. I told him I'd like to bring him some essays that I'd written about fishing (blog posts) for him to read. He said he's like that and also wanted to see my pictures of shrimping season. Before parting, I extended my hand and said "Hey, it's been a pleasure working with you." "The pleasure has been mine," he replied giving me a firm handshake. I told him I'd stop by later in the week to pick up my last paycheck. Then I turned and we parted ways.

On the drive home, I was surprised at how sad I felt to be leaving employment with Cap. I felt incredible relief at finishing the job, yet I will really miss working with him. We've been a great team. We managed to weather the most challenging work that I've ever done together and remain courteous and respectful of eachother. There aren't many people who I could still be on good terms with after a year of confinement in the wheelhouse performing backbreaking work alongside. Yet Cap and I made it work.

It is time for me to move on and time for Cap to find a long-term deckhand. I really hope that he finds a good sternman. I thank Cap for the opportunity to experience lobstering year-round. It has been a humbling experience and a very valuable one, yet it isn't sustainable for me long-term. I am excited about my winter projects, most of all about applying to grad school and publishing this blog in some form or another. It's hard to say where life will lead me, but I am eager and ready for new opportunities to present themselves. Wherever I end up, I will always have good memories of these days on the boat with Cap and many stories to tell.