Happy New Year

To wish you a happy new year I would need pages and so I will just wish everyone a healthy, joyful, peaceful, prosperous year filled with all good things. I will remember the past year because it was filled with sadness for so many, tragedy and the needless death of innocence. We can only pray that we will be able to forgive, learn and make the necessary changes to contribute in a positive way to our towns, country and world. God Bless each and everyone in the new year - 2013, thank you to all for your compliments on my 'Nautical Twilight' and for your generosity, encouragement and kind words.

'Wooden Boat' Magazine February 2013 ----- a feature article by Randal Pheffer, Photographs by Peter McGowan is about the Richard & Arnold, Dave and me. The article is a very big compliment to us and it has filled us with pride. Thank you to everyone. Dave said, "Now I have to make the foc'sle  look really really good." If you can find a copy you'll get a better understanding of what the old girl is looking like since she got her face lift last winter at Rose's marine. I can't thank the writer and photographer enough. 'Wooden Boat' has always been one of our favorite magazines. I got an email from an old friend who we have not seen in many years saying that he picked up a copy and what memories it brought back for him. I wish we could mail a copy to everyone who has fished with us or spent the day on board, but that would mean hundreds of folks. The article brought tears to my eyes, what a treat to be part of it.

Dave is working daily on the foc'sle of the Richard & Arnold. It requires saws, planers, sanders and much more. He had a chop-saw sitting on the galley table while he was cutting wood to cover the cabinets, walls and bunk areas, he used a wainscoting that looks like its been there for 80 years. He's using cut and planed mahogany for trim. The closet door and cabinet doors are recycled from an Egg Harbor that we owned at one time. The bathroom sink came from there as well. Our cook-top stove came from a friend who was redoing the kitchen in his home. The gas fridge is from our days living on the 'Vast Explorer'. Dave has recycled the galley table and made the benches around it to hinge up so that we have lots of storage.  I can't get over the difference in the area we will call home while out on the water.  I'm hoping to cook good meals for the captain, family and friends. The captain is sure to have his wife on board more often now that she has a place to hang out and write.

I have an article of my own coming out in the Jan/Feb 2013 issue of 'Yachting Times'. I haven't seen it yet so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it's half as good as the one Randal Pheffer wrote. 

Happy New Year

Our hearts go out the family of Gene Frottier, lost but not forgotten. A true Provincetown character who loved being at sea. Dave and I watched him one day as he seemed to be playing in the surf onboard the 'Annalise', the boat he owned before the 'Twin Lights', named after his daughter. He was off the Highland, the wind was howling and we were in the parking lot at Coast Guard Beach - the green hull was bouncing off the top of waves and it looked like he was just out there to enjoy the ride, having fun. After watching him we knew that boat would be good in a sea and months later we bought it from him when he wanted to move on to the 'Twin Lights'. Anyone who has spent as much time under the water - diving for lobsters - as on top of it -as he did - must have loved the ocean and what he was doing. He had much to say about how our fisheries were being run, he researched topics and wrote letters regarding injustices, outspoken with strong opinions he would always stop and talk to his fellow fishermen on the wharf. He was a hard worker, fishing in all kinds of weather and sea conditions. Gene's son, Emitt and our son became friends in High School, having in common their dads liking nothing better than being out on the ocean. Gene will now sleep with Father Neptune and his spirit will rest with the angles. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving - let us remember all those who have lost so much - from Hurricanes, from sickness and from tragedy.

There's no turning back now, either it's a new foc'sle or Dave will be sleeping in a hammock next summer during Squid season. Another major rehab is taking place. I had a peek today at the inside of the F/V Richard & Arnold. She is now a bare hull, bunks gone, sink and stove removed, empty. The next phase is the hardest part - deciding where to put the 'head' - oh yes, there will be a full bathroom, shower, hot water and all. The galley and salon will be housed in what was once fish-pens. It is becoming a reality. www.provincetownfishwife.com

Thank you to the many people who have written to me about my book, 'Nautical Twilight'. The past few months have been filled with your kind words. I am glad you are enjoying the book. You have inspired me to share more of my writing and so this short story is for my fans. Thank you. My sea stories are a representation of a way of life upon the water that is fast disappearing. This short story is as true as it can get. I have changed some names to protect the innocent. I hope it gives you a chuckle----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Albert On the Can a short sea story by J. J. Dutra

Albert worked on a fishing boat out of Provincetown MA for many years. Most nights he slept on the vessel where he worked, a good situation for the owners and the crewman.  The fisherman had been awake for over thirty-six hours, first fishing, then enjoying the local pub and finishing with a half-mile walk to the end of the wharf where he made his way down a ten foot ladder. To get to his bunk on board the 'Reneva' he would cross the decks of the 'Jimmy Boy', the 'Shirley & Roland' and the 'Plymouth Bell'  stepping from rail to rail, climbing over empty fish boxes and pulling on ropes. This night was no different, he went below, crawled into the bunk and was asleep in seconds.

When the Provincetown fisherman opened his eyes he was listening to the boat's engine purring in the background. Like most wooden fishing vessels this boat had the familiar rolling rhythm, a creaking and a slow sway. It was time to fix a pot of coffee and light the kerosene stove that would take the damp chill from the air. Something felt different, but Albert was not fully conscious. Thinking it would be time to haul back and he'd better get topside he came through the doghouse to the deck and it struck him, bringing him soberly awake, eyes wide open. He was on the wrong boat.

Stopping at the tip of Cape Cod on its way south for sea scalloping, this Maine boat had tied on the outside of the usual string of fishing boats alongside McMillan Pier. The captain from Maine wanted a hot shower and a good meal, he'd been eating his brother-in-law, Billy's one meal, hash and eggs for a week. Their day began in the twilight, casting off and heading round the cape, hoping to run out for scallops then head to Point Judith, RI.  The captain was sitting in the wheel house looking out toward the horizon to the east when Albert stepped on deck. "What the hell?" the captain gasped. Standing before him was a skinny stranger with a big toothy grin. His hair was sticking up. He needing a shave and his clothes were almost rags. If you got close enough the smell of fish and beer was discernible."Billy, take the wheel." The captain was out the door and roaring over the engine, "Where the hell did you come from?"

The stowaway did a shuffle, moving around on the deck like he had to pee, a sort of dance, light on his feet. "Gees Cap, I'm awful sorry. It  appears I've stepped aboard the wrong boat, which can happen, you know." The stowaway looked around, "I'm a good crewman, I'll give you a good days work, you won't even have to pay me. You can take me back to town after today's fishing. How about that?"
The captain towered over Albert, sucking in the air, puffing up his chest he bellowed, "We ain't out for a day fishing, we're headed to Block Island and I don't take passengers." Albert has heard this kind of hollering before and he knew to wait out the rant. "I'm sorry about this, cap. Maybe you could just take me back. It ain't far to P-town."

The captain didn't usually yell at his crewmen, but Albert had given him quite a start. "You'll have to swim back, you good-for nothing-stowing away on my boat, idiot. We are six hours out of town and that would put me 18 hours behind and I've got the tide going with me. I'm not turning this boat around. We'll put you off in Block Island." The radio began squawking from inside the wheelhouse. The captain is pacing when Billy leans out the door "Captain," he calls, "Captain, come listen to the talk on the CB radio." The big man steps inside as his crewman continues, "The talk is about a fellow named Albert. They're worried about him, seems like he wasn't in his bunk this morning.
The big fellow leans out the door and hollers, "Hey, what's your name?" The stranger perks up.
"Albert Swan. At your service," he said. Then he returns to counting the change he'd pulled from his pants pocket. The captain take the radio mike in his meaty hand, pressing his thumb to the side, scanning the horizon and speaking, "This is the 'Angelina' out of Stonington calling the captain looking for Albert, come back." Static, scratchy noise, then,  "This is the 'Reneva' on this end."

"Well Cap, seems we have something in common and something of a dilemma. I got me a stowaway by the name of Albert Swan. Sound familiar?" His answer comes across the airwaves.
"That's him. Is he all right?" Joe lets go of the mike and chuckles into his coffee.

Having contacted someone who might be able to help the wanderer, the Maine captain begins speaking again, "He's not hurt or anything, but I can't keep him as crew. I was thinking of putting him off in Block Island or maybe Nantucket, but when I mentioned this to Albert I thought he was going to cry. Got any ideas? Over."

Joe has been fishing for twenty years and can see the problems. He'd have to chase the boat to Nantucket, use up two days supply of fuel and have no catch. He picked up the mike and said, "Angelina, what is your position? I don't see you on my radar."

"Approximately 5 mile south of Race Point and coming up to the Whistle buoy," came the reply.
Joe can picture Albert on the dock in Nantucket. Maybe the police would send him back.
Albert is sitting on the hatch that covers the fish-hold when he suddenly jumps up and holler out, "Say Cap, if you set me off in Nantucket could you lend me some money?"
The captain doesn't answer, but grabs the radio mike. "This is the 'Angelina. I'll put Albert off in Nantucket and give him twenty dollars. Over."

The reply comes back, "This is the 'Reneva' Listen cap, I've got an idea. You said you were near the Whistle buoy, we're 12 miles north of that big can." Joe has a smile under his bushy black beard, "How about putting Albert on the buoy? Its big enough to hold him. I'll head south and get him when I finish this tow. Maybe a couple of hours. What do you think? Over." Both captains are shaking their heads as if in unison of some strange force, knowing that this could be a simple answer to a complex question. In other works - its worth a shot.

"That a fine idea. I'll go ask Albert and get back to you." The radio barks out. The vagabond fisherman is looking worried. "Hey Albert I've been talking with Joe from the 'Reneva' and he has an idea that he thinks will work for all of us. " The big man braces himself against the rail and outriggers facing his stowaway, "I could put you out on the Whistle Buoy and Joe would come and get you." The captain from Maine is expecting Albert to put up a fuss, take time to think it over or refuse outright. Instead Albert jumps up, "That sounds fine, I know the place, been by it many times. I knew my ol' captain wouldn't let me down." Albert sounds like he's going to take a seat on a bench and wait for the next bus. The captain leaves scratching his head.

These heavy metal markers sit in the water four feet high, like an oil drum with a ring around it for tying to. Historically they dotted the entire eastern seaboard when mariners found their way with chart and compass, before GPS. The depth of the water at this location is one-hundred feet with a swirling tide, rushing, pushing and pulling the buoys off center, at times tilting twenty degrees. It sits two miles from land, too far for even the best swimmers due to the strong currents. When the buoy comes into site, the captain has a fleeting pang of remorse, a moment of doubt, but he maneuvers his 52 foot vessel closer to the bobbing cylindrical marker. "It looks safe," the mate said as he hooks the metal ring with the gaff then quickly slips a line through the ring as the captain hold the boat in slow-ahead. The boat is suspended, attached and the captain takes the boat out of gear.

The captain come out from the wheelhouse and hands Albert a gallon jug of water, a bag with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and potato chips. Albert looks around then into the paper bag, as if he is going to change his mind, "You wouldn't trade this water for a six pack of beer would you?"
The captain snarls and walks away.

Billy helps Albert over the boat rail. He leans out, bag between his teeth, jug in one hand, clutching the buoy's ring in the other and said, "Thanks for the lift." The 'Angelina' disengages, falls off and is moving away with the tide. Albert raises his hand, waving, watching the only boat on the horizon leave,  while in-between sea and sky Albert positions himself and waits. Eight hours later  the 'Reneva' appears alongside the buoy. Joe hangs out the wheelhouse and yells, "Hey Albert, you ready to go fishing?" Albert gives his rescuers a big smile, lifts his arm  toward the sky and give them a thumbs-up.

Thank you to the New Bedford Working Waterfront Festival - volunteers, committees, boats and fishermen for providing us with a wonderful weekend. We ate fish, crab, mussels, scallops, and clam chowder. We listened to sea chanties, poets, story tellers, and writers. We walked the waterfront, boarded fishing boats and talked with friends. One man who came to visit the Richard & Arnold told us his father  had captained our boat back in the 1940's. We met people from Alaska, Canada, New Jersey and we reunited with friends we hadn't see in years - what a treat. Even the rain couldn't dampen the spirits of all in attendance. And to top it off- our ride home was a beauty. The sun came out as we left New Bedford Harbor, the wind was light - variable, with a full moon rising. We did a whopping 12.5 knots through the Cape Cod Canal and 8.5 across Cape Cod Bay. The Richard & Arnold is now back in her berth at MacMillan Wharf in Provincetown waiting for her next trip.

From Portsmouth, NH to New Bedford,MA

We enjoyed the time spent at the New Hampshire Fish and Lobster Festival: the food was great, the people friendly and the fisherfolk are raising awareness regarding the small boat fleets and what is happening to our American Fishing Industry.  Sept 29 & 30, 2012 Dave and I are taking the F/V Richard & Arnold to the New Bedford Working Waterfront Festival. The theme this year is:
Fish Tales: Fact, Fiction and Narrative Tradition.  Stop by and say hello.

The highlight of the Fluke season came last Sunday, when a dark green boat, a Bertrum design followed the Richard & Arnold into the basin in Menemsha. Dave had fished the day and was on his way back to harbor and began wondering what he captain of the dark green boat wanted, it was following close behind all the way to the dock on Martha's Vineyard. After the Richard & Arnold was tied up and secured, the Bertrum came along side and a gentlemen reached across the rail to Dave, "Let me shake your hand," the older gentleman said, "You don't remember me, do you?" He had the biggest smile on his face and Dave warmed to him right away. "I'm Arnold."   Dave took a moment to understand that standing in front of him was one of the brothers that our boat had been named for when it came to Provincetown back in 1933.  Arnold continued, "I'm 82 years old and I'm so happy and proud to see how you've kept the boat. My father would be proud too. My brother Richard has passed away, but he'd be proud as well if he were here to see her." There were smiles of joy and tears of excitement, "I remember when my dad, Frank Parson fished the boat from Provincetown Harbor when I was just a child." Arnold Parson shook Dave's hand a dozen times while he looked over the boat and talked about how great it was for him to see the 'Richard & Arnold'. What a great way to end the Fluke season which closed the following day. Thank you to Arnold Parson for showing up at just the right time to say hello and then bon voyage, to a vessel that has both a history and a future.  

The end is near- two days left. Remember the guy who used to walk around Times Square in NYC with that sign on his back? The ending I'm talking about is the season of the Fluke, government style.  The allocated quota is caught - all you guys go home, no more work, no more fishing, no more money. Find another way to make a living. There is bitter taste in my mouth and yet I wish to thank NMFS for allowing us to fish at all. After all their job to protect the fish, never mind us, we can always buy fish from other countries. I still wish to thank them, even though we will have no income for months at a time, even though the boat will be tied up, rusting, and even though more fish are eaten by predation than anything we'd be able to catch, I am still grateful for the opportunity to be allocated a few fish. I'll be glad to have Dave home for more that two days at a time. He had to do the week long trips because there is nothing else he can do right now and we have no idea what we will be allowed to catch in the fall or winter. There's not much fishing around Provincetown and Cape Cod Bay in the summer and on the Atlantic side the cod and haddock have moved north to cooler water. The seals are eating the yellow-tail and other flounder. The lobsters are eating the guts and stuff left on the sea floor by the seals so there is a glut of lobster and falling prices. Lobster pots and gill nets blanket the bay. Do you think that when we run out of fish we'll eat the seals? I wish I had a good receipt for seal pie and I'd love to have a seal coat and boots like the coat my grandmother wore, keeping me warm this winter. We have so much to be thankful for: fish, game, fruits, nuts, all the blessings from this wonderful life and yet so many of us dwell on the dark side, drawn by fear. Remember that guy in Times Square, the end is near. It is a joke, you are supposed to feel pity for him and be repelled. The End is Not Near. So there.

Another Tuna Tail - Tale

There are stories about catching tuna, the indigenous fish that swims the world's currents, causing men to find ways and make remarkable efforts to catch them, stories that sometimes boggle the mind. During the summer of 1977 three men were  talking, standing together at the edge of the Provincetown Wharf. Kurt had just finished a scallop trip, cut and unloaded 200 bags of sweet sea food and was heading home. Henry was on his way to check his vessel tied to the wharf and Shane was out for a walk up the pier to look out at his small boat tied on a mooring. They were yammering about fish, boats, weather and other fishermen. There was hardly a ripple on the water that sweeps into the harbor every six hours. Unbeknownst to the trio a large fish was feeding upon the small squid that were chasing larvae and krill moving it closer and closer to shore. It appeared lazy as if it had eaten its fill. Shane spotted the large sharp fin traveling slowly around mooring lines and anchored boats. He felt the hair rise on his arms and he could feel his heart begin to beat faster. He knew what he was looking at, having seen this fin before.This could be his lucky day. He didn't say a word to anyone, but walked away, then ran to the  boat he knew would have a harpoon at the ready. His uncle Manny's boat the 'Silver Mink' would most definitely have what was needed.

Giant BluefinTuna can weigh over a thousand pounds and are today highly regulated, but in 1977 the name of the game was catch me if you can. Tuna are fast swimming and migratory, following paths that take them from Cape Cod to Cape Verde, away and back again. Best of all they are wonderful tasting, a rich protein delight and for a lucky fisherman they can provide monetary incentive.

Kurt began pointing in the directions of the fish and others began to take notice. Soon a small group had gathered to watch the lazy motion of the dorsal fin as it swam around boats and mooring lines just yards from the side of the pier The fish moved slowly, circling as if lost, coming closer and closer.

When a man sees an opportunity he needs to act. Shane was not out to impress. He did not think about what he would do with it once it was caught, nor about the money. For him it was instinct. He could see the large eye and the silver, blue and yellow scales flashing back at him from just below the surface.
Shane paused, waiting. People began asking what the long pole was for, did he intend to throw the harpoon from this distance, was that a shark? Shane didn't answer, could not reply, could not speak, willing the fish to come closer. And so it did. Suddenly Shane raised the pole and let it fly. The barb struck. The fish stiffened then leaped out of the water. The twelve foot pole flew away from the fish and the line attached to the triangular blade began to uncoil from the box it was stored in. A cheer went up from the growing crowd. Man and fish began a tug of war, the fish would fight for its life and Shane would fight to take it. He could not let the line play out as he would in open water, it was a crowded basin. He began pulling, struggling to move the giant fish to the beach, hoping the arrow shaped tip had gone deep enough.

People were shouting encouragement, "You've got him now. Keep going." The gap to the shore was narrowing. Thirty minutes into the battle the fish gave a final leap into the air and landed on the beach, high and dry as if it wanted to get the whole ordeal over with as quickly as possible. A roar went up from the crowd. Shane's hands were cut and blistered, his breathing hard when he asked a friend to stay with the fish while he went for help. "I don't want anyone coming along and staking a claim," he said. I don't know what he was paid for the fish, it weighed in at just over 400 pounds, but the standing ovation he received was worth a million dollars.

A seafaring holiday

Day 1: a car for an hour, a ferry for an hour, three buses took two hours and finally the harbor of Menemsha, on the island of Martha's Vineyard. The Richard & Arnold at the dock and Dave waiting, I was happy to see that not much has changed - the houses, the boats and the people as I remembered, inviting and warm. Actually it was one of the hottest weeks of the summer season, but I had the most refreshing swim at the beach near the harbor, looking back toward the mainland, west facing. The water was cool, clear and salty. Dinner was fish and lobster, of coarse. Day 2: Awake at 3AM. Dave started the engine and let go the lines. It felt like the middle of the night, so I stayed in the bunk ---Big mistake. An hour later I found myself sea-sick and unable to stand up. I lie on the deck like a wet fish and roll around most of the day wanting my headache and queezyness to go away. Every ten minutes I ask Dave "how much longer?" The gods of the sea looked down on me with pity and we arrived back at the dock around noon. Not bad. I changed into a bathing suit and went first for a swim then for a shower. Very refreshing. Dave and I ate lunch on shore, on the dock . A cup of chowder and saltines for me. A seafood sandwich for Dave that he called a "chimmmy-chonga". A friendly fisherman Tim, who owns and fishes the old 'Bottom Scratcher' renamed 'Four Kids' gave Dave a ride to a pharmacy to buy bonine for me. There was no Dramamine left in the whole village at Menemsha Harbor. I'll bet I'm not the first mariner to go begging for it.
Day 3: Much better, the stuff works. We headed out again at 4AM but this time I got up and went on deck to see the night turn to day as we headed south toward Gay Head Lighthouse and past the tip of the island.  Noman's Island lay as a grey lump on the horizon off in the distance. The sea was running 5-6 feet, it was rougher than the day before, but the pill was working it's magic and I was able to help a little with the sorting of fish. The piles are small and Dave had the deck cleared in less than fifteen minutes. The fish were slow coming and he decided to move, closer inside, not as rollie and easier for me. We bruise easily at our age. Dave ate eggs and sausages, I lived on water and crackers. The regulations allow for 300 pounds of Fluke per boat, per day with five days allowed each week and so we were back at the dock by one o'clock. I went for a swim, showered  and had lunch with my honey and then with mixed feeling, I hopped the bus at 4PM, then the ferry and then the car. Dave calls me "a tough lady". I was asleep in my own bed by 10PM- but recovering took two days. It was a memorable three day holiday and you know what? I'll have to do it again - I forgot to take pictures.  

Me and the Provincetown Blessing of the fleet

judy.dutra.96@facebook.com

Off To Martha's Vineyard Island

Posts have been non-existant due to change-over in compters, i'm still working it out. Meanwhile I will be joining Dave on board our sweet new/old boat. I look forward to the visit. Dave said, "Bring your draimimine." I know it's a joke but I will most likely feel queezy at some point in the trip. He never gets sea-sick and that just isn't fair. I haven't been away from home since driving  back and forth to Gloucester last winter. This time I'm leaving the car in Hyannis, it will be like old times -traveling on my own to far off places. MVI is not far, as the crow flys, but all day on car, boat and bus will be all the adventure I need. Events at the Blessing of the Fleet in Provincetown at the end of June will stay with us forever. Family, friends, loved ones gathered to share a space on board our Richard & Arnold. I'll post pictures taken by Steven Kennedy from onboard the boat. There's one of me that I kinda like, I'm not fond of having my picture taken. Dave on the other hand never takes a bad photo. The harbor where I'm heading will most likely be baking in the sun like every place in America right now. I remember being in downtown Ciaro in 1992 and it was 120 degrees in the shade. Move slow, drink water and stay out of the noon day sun. I also remember being in Menemsha, a tiny bowl that has no cell phone reception, when it felt just as hot. I'm going to get away from my responsibilities and to feel the water under me again.  I'll fish with  my honey for three days, from 5AM to whenever we catch our daily limit-which doesn't take long since the quota is so small, but that's another story. dave and I try to avoid the conflict with overzealous burourcrats, we just say, "yes'm and do their bidding." It's a sore subject and one better left to tell in the book, 'Nautical Twilight'. It's all there in black & white. So now we we have an 80 year old hull that may one day be a sailing / fishing yacht. Or maybe we will have to take all the fishing gear off and sell our permits to some big company, who can afford to buy our share. I know for sure that our Richard & Arnold will out live Dave and me, and most likely all the people in all the offices that have been hired to keep an eye on one old man and one old boat

The Richard and Arnold heading out, this time to Woods Hole then on to Martha's Vineyard and Nantucket Sound to chase the summer flounder. In the two weeks before this picture was taken Dave added a layer of fiberglass cloth and resin over the doghouse and forward deck, the hatch lip was lowered by four inches and a new cover added. Doors to below deck now swing open and are louvered. We drove to NJ and back with a net reel and doors. Dave changed doors, but then changed them again - put his old ones back on, the net needed the bigger door. Each door weighs about 600 pounds. I watched as he used a sky hook to put them into the back of his old truck, using a three part tackles system on a gin-pole. Nets were changed, the squid net for the 'flat-net', he had a beauty built by the Levin's in Fairhaven since the last one he had built by them lasted many, many years and caught its share of flat-fish. He stopped squid fishing because the boat's muffler was leaking fumes into the wheelhouse. The old muffler was removed and a new elbow, pipe and stainless steel muffler were added, thanks Wellfleet Welding - Matt.  This all takes place before he can even set the net. Oh and he changed the oil in the engine. Lots of small issues taken care of, all good, all to keep the boat safe and catching. Let's hope this will be a good Fluke season.

Fishing is what Dave loves to do and he's now doing it with our fishing/yacht. Our vessel will be leaving the wharf again for a June Fluke season off Martha's Vineyard. The daily catch allowance is small, 300 pounds, but we can live with that. There is hardly any fishing left around here, I mean that the cod allocations have been caught up, there are lots of back door dealings as far as the yellow-tail flounder go, the rules have pretty much overwhelmed most fishing businesses and the lobster gear has moved in for the season. The latest scheme for dividing up the fish - the current trend, it's not a good one. First of all it was based on a time frame that did not take into account the years leading up to allocation. Too many people have been pushed out of the fishing business using faulty data and over zealous regulators. The control and money are now in the hands of a few and they can sell allocation to whomever they choose. It's the thirty year cycle - weirs, dorymen with hooks, gillnets and draggers, harpooners and hand-liners- after thirty years no one will remember what the broo-haha over catch shares was all about and no one will remember when men were free to fish the way they wanted. We hope to leave all the bureaucracy at the wharf when we cast off the lines, catch a few fish. If the price stays up we'll have a good summer.   I have been busy writing, speaking, and spending time meeting lots of friends who tell me they enjoyed reading my book, 'Nautical Twilight'. I will be in the author's tent in Wellfleet for the Wellfleet Harborfest on the pier at 10 am Sat.- June 16, 2012 - and will talk about the book. I'm not used to tooting my own horn - but so many people have been telling me how much they've loved it. It's a small slice of our lives and a look at what was once the Provincetown fishing fleet. I have been invited to speak at the Eldredge Library in Chatham,MA at 2 pm on Thursday, June 21                     ALSO Dave and I will be participating in many of the events at the Provincetown Portuguese Festival and the 65th Blessing of the Fleet, June 21-24. visit their web page: www.provincetownportuguesefestival.com  I will be sharing a table with Nancy Bloom on Ryder Street all day Friday and Saturday. Stop and say hello.   Dave has promised to bring the boat back for that weekend- he's not allowed to fish for fluke on Fridays and Saturdays anyway, don't ask me why. The Richard & Arnold will be in the parade of boats on Sunday, this is our 31st with the R&A, but we had lots of blessings and parties with the 'Wildflower' back in the 1970's. Looks like June is going to be a fun month.   Thank you one and all

Dave brought the Richard & Arnold back to Provincetown, not that he wanted to stop catching squid but because there is work to be done that requires his attention: he added fiberglass cloth and resin to deck to stop leaks from the top, there are no leaks from the bottom now! Dave will replace an old leaky muffler and some metal pipe as well.  A new net has been ordered form Levin in Fairhaven,MA for the up coming Fluke season and we just returned from a two day trip to New Jersey to pick up an aluminum net reel, along with two winches, and doors (the metal slabs that hold the net open). We borrowed our son's truck and a friend's trailer to carry the gear, I'd forgotten how stressful travel on America's highways can be, especially when towing a 20 ft trailer. We witnessed the most bizarre traffic accident on our way onto the George Washington Bridge: traffic was at a crawl - stop and go - lanes narrowing and funneling from four down to two, construction on the left, bright plastic orange cones forcing cars to the right and this small car squished itself against a big truck, literally ran into the massive truck going less than 5 miles an hour like it was going to push it out of the way -  instead of stopping and waiting for the truck to pass, or running into the plastic cone - the car pushed against a truck 10 times its size. Dave and I couldn't believe our eyes. We were able to scoot around it because we were in back of the truck. Some people just shouldn't be driving. We were happy to arrive in Pt. Pleasant, NJ where there still is a fishing fleet, anywhere there are fishing boats feels like home. Everyone was helpful and we had the trailer loaded in an hour. I spent a couple of summers with my family when I was a kid in our two week rental at the beach in Point Pleasant. We spent the night and walked the boardwalk along the Jersey Shore, the first time for Dave and a return for me - some sixty years later. My how time flies. Back home safe and ready to tackle the muffler, its priority. After that if there is time before Fluke season, Dave will cut the old net reel off and lift it from the boat. The new one will be mounted, bolted and welded in place. Sounds easy when I write about it but nothing about fishing or the boat is ever really easy, but I think Dave would rather be welding on a new net reel than driving Interstate 95.  

Squid, squid and more squid. Today in Nantucket Sound approximately 20 boats are fishing and wishing for squid. The Richard & Arnold is doing its share. I find it amazing that one old man can keep up with boats that have crewmen 20 years younger than Dave. Back in the 1970's and 80's there were hundreds of boat all vying for the product. Today our fleets are so diminished that on most days there is not a boat to be seen on the horizon. The sad fact is that we were better off when we had many small boats instead of a few larger ones. America imports over 85 % of its fish and now we are selling our 'catch shares' to the highest bidder. Most likely our resource of fresh fish will be owned by Walmart or investors from China. Dave remains fishing because he feels that no one, not even our government should be allowed to force us out of business. The sad fact is that the younger generation of fishermen who have been given all the allocation - will never know what freedom is. They will never be able to fish when and where they want. They will always have to answer to the government, where we as the senior generation of fishermen had incentive, camaraderie and answered to a higher power.  Yes, the boat is like a new vessel, handles beautifully, feels strong, but the fishery is ghoulish, lacks ingenuity and is stifling from overbearing government regulation. The catch share system was designed to fail and in its wake will remove hundreds of small fishing businesses. It seems to be working. The men who made the sacrifices in the name of sustainability have been pushed aside by a generation who doesn't have a clue what it was like to compete for the fish, who shared a common bond, who knew true freedom.

Nautical Twilight Live

www.provincetownfishwife.com The Provincetown Portuguese Festival and Blessing of the Fleet committee is having a fund raiser -- One of the guest speakers is me.  Never in my wildest dreams did I ever expect to be talking and reading from my own book - Nautical Twilight. I am excited to share my work with the town that inspired it.  The fund raiser begins at 12 noon on May 20, 2012 at the Red Inn on Commercial Street. Cost is $15.00 at the door. I will be speaking around 1:15. I'd like to thank the committee for giving me the opportunity, I consider it a privilege. Last Sunday and Monday I went fishing on the Richard & Arnold with Dave for squid. I spent Sunday night aboard in Oak Bluffs, Martha's Vineyard, but was so tired that I didn't go ashore, I didn't touch land until Monday evening when we unloaded 1400 pounds. It took me two days to recover, so this Mother's day I'm having a day without touching the Ocean and Dave is catching squid without me. I only feel a little guilty. Next weekend I'll be dressed in my finest  instead of boots and oil gear and I'm hoping I can get Dave to give up a day of squid to come to the talk at the Red Inn, after all the story is really about him. Hope to see you there or at the Portuguese Festival on the last weekend in June. I'll have a table on Ryder Street to talk, sign and sell books. My friend Nancy Bloom will have her photos of the Provincetown Regatta on tiles, in frames and on calenders. Dave just called, he's on his way in from fishing and is coming home tonight to wish me a happy mothers day, now I really am having the best day possible. To all the moms out there in cyber land I hope your day is as good as mine.

Mark and the Tuna

The Richard & Arnold is back fishing--but I am remembering another kind of fishing today.

For all those who love fishing stories - here's another:

An unusual tuna affair was held at Ballston Beach in Truro, MA on an overcast September morning many moons ago. Mark was out to surf-cast for Stripped Bass as the sun was breaking over the wet horizon. This time of day was a favorite, before he went to work as a house builder. With a pole in his left hand and a gaff-hook looped by a leather strap over his wrist in the other, he walked beside the curling waves. At first he was not sure what he was seeing. There was a silver flash, then another. Could that be a tail? Mark Instinctively threw out his right arm like a surprised Captain Hook and sank the barbed end of the gaff that was secured to his wrist, deep into the head of a three hundred pound tuna-fish. Without thought he yanked, pulling the denizen of the deep out of the water onto the beach in front of him. The fish began whipping its body about in a wild frenzy and Mark wondered if the fish might break his arm. It would either drag Mark back into the water or Mark would land it.The muscled and scaled mass thrashed about continuously bruising and cutting Mark's legs and arms until the impulsive fisherman was able to position himself at the sea creature's head. He held the hilt of the gaff with both hands. Using brute strength and the buoyancy of the water under his feet Mark was able to pull the fish clear of the briny world. His dog was barking, rushing at the big fish then quickly retreating. Mark's whooping and holler was lost in the crashing surf and barking dog. Mark wrestled the fish away from the tide line as the struggling contortions of the fish with its flapping motion actually gave the fisherman the edge. The big fish ceased motion, the enormous eye clouded and the gills stopped pumping when Mark was sweating from fatigue and could not pull another inch. They were only ten yards from the water. He slipped the leather strap from his hand and sat on the sand, admiring and contemplating the fish. The enormous scales of rainbow colors were fading to gray, matching the sky and water. He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, instead he ran to his truck for a longer rope which he placed over the fin at the large 'Y' where belly and tail met. He put the other end of the rope over his shoulder and pulled the creature up an incline until he was close enough to use his pick-up to winch it into the back. There was not one other person there to witness the 'catch of the day'.  Word got out and friends gathered to hear the telling and retelling, while the process of bleeding, gutting and washing took place in Mark's garage. He hung it up like a deer carcass during hunting season for everyone to admire. The men shook their heads in disbelief but Mark swore the story was true. That fish fed half the town of Truro that night with some left over for freezing. It was a tasty delight, a one of a kind fish dinner and a tale worth the telling.www.provincetownfishwife.com

Well - it is done, over, complete and well done. She's back in town tied to MacMillan Wharf and what a beauty she is. The Richard & Arnold came out of the cocoon a new boat. She solid, strong and there's not a cup of water in her bilge. Dave said, "I've owned her for 30 years and this is the first time there's no water leaking in." He spent three months living in a motel room, worked 9 hours a day and ate fried food in restaurants. The clothing he brought home is covered in sticky fiberglass and I've thrown them all away. We had some good help, Dick Crowell has got to be one of the most knowledgeable people when it comes to how to cover a boat with resin and fiberglass cloth. He was sent to us by angels. The folks at Rose's Marine in Gloucester, MA are the best, most helpful and friendliest we've had the privilege to know. Where we go from here is not yet decided. We'll have to take one step at a time. The foc'sle is in great need of carpentry. Hopefully that labor of love will happen after Dave catches a few fish. We've still got to pay back what has been loaned. It is well worth the effort, the time and the money , because we have a brand new 62' fiberglass beauty that doesn't leak, what a joy. We have begun picturing her with sail assist, motor sailor, fishing-yacht. They say if you can dream it -

Mild Winters

It might have been a mild winter by some standards, but if you are trying to cover a 62 foot schooner hull with four layers of resin and cloth, then the winter becomes one that is anything but mild. The wind has calmed and we are grateful for that. On one windy day the dome covering the entire boat almost blew off into the air, sixty knots I was told, the air went in from the bottom, like blowing up the skirts on Marilyn Monroe.  Thanks to the men in the yard for anchoring the white dome -They must have had to use machines to place the heavy blocks that now hold down the structure. Parts of the wood supports were broken up but within a couple of days it was braced with 1 x 3's.  Thank goodness there is a god for fishermen. No damage done.  If the warmth keeps up the glass will go on quicker, the mat-cloth will unroll by the yards. March sometimes surprises us and we have a calm and quiet one. In like a lamb-out like a lion. or is it the other way - was March 1 a windy, cold one? Dave has been living for weeks at a time in a motel room like a homeless man, he hates it. There was the stomach flu this winter that seemed to keep people at home and we did have a few freezing days were work was impossible, but I'd have to say that all in all it's been very mild. There was a touch of snow a few days ago, it snowed for three hours and was gone in the next three. Mild yes, but also long and lonely.

Another kind of love

It's Valentine's Day. I've lived with my husband half my life and I love him more. It is not a holiday for either of us, for he left the house this morning and I probably won't see him for a week or more. Our Richard & Arnold will be getting his attention this week. With weather above 40 degrees, the work of rolling resin can be done with less effort. Try lifting your arms up and down for hours at a time, running up and down ladders, working with a resin that will harden like a rock when it dries. The cloth will come soon.  The hull is well worth saving. Wooden boats can only last so long. There are borer worms that can eat through the hull, especially in warmer waters. Ducks can pull the caulking out of the seams when they are trying to get to the growth on the bottom, the barnacles and snails. Sometimes electrolysis can eat out the metal in  nails or screws causing a plank to come loose. We are saving our little ship, giving her our best efforts, a twenty first century make over. Dave and I share a special bond this Valentines Day, we love each other and our 80 year old boat. We'd like to see her with sails, we're thinking motor-sail. We hope she will be able to continue to fish until she's over 100.  Dave and I are hoping to live aboard this summer, planning a longer passage for next year, now that the Richard & Arnold is not a leaky old boat, just an old boat. We love her and you all, Happy Valentine's Day.

What's under the tent?

It was hard enough to build the frame, but then the shrink wrap, now it's respirators and hard work. Lucky for us we've had this experience before. It's a blessing that we found someone who know's his stuff this time, last time Dave did the work alone. For the first time in years Dave is not the captain. It must be his age mellowing him for I don't see any of the bristling to get the job done. He's fond of saying, "Pick up the pace or pick up your tools." The last time he worked with fiberglass was in his parent's yard on Beach Point in 1975. He decided the only way to save the 'Egg Harbor' was to cover the entire boat with a thick layer of glass. The hull was as strong as any little boat could get, but that was the problem, the boat was too little. Another that Dave covered in fiberglass clothe was the 'Wildflower'. We put it into a building that his uncle Frank Diogo had built in a field. While the building was being built we were building the boat. Uncle Frank let us keep it in his unfinished warehouse in the back, while he and a crew worked in the front to make shops. The 'Wildflower' a forty-two foot inshore fishing boat, sat on stanchions just like the 'Richard & Arnold' is now, only the R&A is twenty feet longer. Under the tent they are preparing to put layers of liquid of glass followed by sheets of clothe. Mother Nature is helping us with warmer than expected temperatures, I understand it is caused by solar flares, but for whatever reason we are grateful. The men in the tent look eerily-odd, otherworldly and alien dressed in white plastic suits, to keep their lungs protected they wear masks. The cocoon of white plastic surrounds their world and the work moves slowly forward. We are  looking forward to spring and a butterfly.  

www.provincetownfishwife.com

Moving forward while on land

Progress is measured many ways. A phone call from 'Big Game Fishing Journal' and a talk with the editor, Capt Len was a surprise that lent itself to progress, for who would have thought a few years ago that both recreational fishermen and commercial fishermen would have so much in common. The common factor being  EDF, the Environmental Defense Fund and their take over of both recreational and commercial fishing in a land where freedom was once the watch-word. The fisheries and the ever changing rules, regulations and now scientific data is again making headlines because of the supposed low Cod count (spawning cod) in the Northeast. Questions are being raised about both the 2008 and 2011 evaluations, method and out come. If one is wrong perhaps both were, or factors that haven't been yet discovered were not applied. Dave tells me, "Figures don't lie but liars figure." It is a well known truth that when looking at an object two people will see two different things. Take fish, some see a wonderful meal, some see money and EDF sees a way to control both. I enjoyed my talk with Capt. Len and the progress we have made in understanding our mutual enemy.
The Richard & Arnold is making progress, never fast enough for Dave, but things are moving ahead. The hull will be down to bear wood in the next few days, then the boat will get a shaft-log and a new transducer. A transducer measures water depth and the shaft-log will help keep the boat dry, replacing the stuffing box where the rotating shaft comes through the boat hull. We are making progress.

White on White

Cocooned in snow over a covering of white plastic, framed by wood in a shape resembling a Quonset hut, the boat is being prepared. The job of getting a sixty foot long building water tight, pitched so that the rain and snow slide from the top, around masts, over the top of the wheelhouse enclosing the entire boat was the work of a crew who knew what they were doing. Thanks to Dickey we found a company of three men who rolled and tucked, pulled and attached, around the bones of wood strapping, enclosing the Richard & Arnold in her own cocoon hopefully to be a butterfly in spring. Dave can sleep good tonight, while the hull dries and winter washes the world with snow. The week has been very rigorous for our captain, days with his beard covered in ice. He stripped metal and wood sheathing, then built the frame while the temperature went from o to 35 and back again. Many people have stopped by, one man asked him how old he was? "You'd think I'd be old enough to know better," came the reply. "But step one is done."

F/V Richard & Arnold's Renewal

The cold slows everything down, but work is progressing and even with the freezing cold we are moving forward. While holding up the fort at home I've had time to read up on what's going on in the fisheries. Very interesting  reports from www.savingseafood.org   Two former directors of Sciences at the Bedford Institute of Oceanography, Canada, did a report on the seal population and the effects on codfish off the coast of Nova Scotia. The area studied has been closed to commercial fishing for decades due to the decimation brought about by large factory trawlers in the 1980's. At the time the fish were being caught by men, seal numbers were 3,000 along the coast. Now after trying to rebuild the stocks by limiting fishing, seals have grown to 300,000, doubling every 7 years. The cod stocks are worse now than when the Canadian Gov. banned fishing in that area. What this says to me is that men and seals are both at fault, but that one should not be given exclusivity over the other. In our small fishing town, back in the 1960's a man was rewarded for bringing in a seal. My grandmother wore a seal coat- I'll never forget how warm it was, especially now, while Dave is working outdoors in 0 degree weather in order to  keep our fishing boat and business afloat. Doesn't it make you wonder?

F/V Richard & Arnold's Renewal

She's out of the water- on stantions and blocks in a very good place. The people at the boatyard couldn't be nicer. She sure is a beauty, if I do say so myself. Not many left like her. 60 feet long, schooner hull, classic. Next step will be to build a temporary, plastic and wood shelter around the boat, not an easy task because it needs to have some room inside to work on hull and there are masts, outriggers, wheelhouse, doghouse and wenches to take into consideration. Dave will strip all metal and unnecessary wood from the hull so that she's down to original shape. We have a nice fellow who's local up there in Gloucester and will help with the work.  The weather isn't going to get warmer for awhile and will affect how fast the men will be able to work, but once the building is around the boat things will go smoother. We've found a motel for Dave and they'll allow a microwave in the room, looks like TV dinners for awhile, just like squid fishing in the spring. Not the best diet, but we'll get by. Our excitement will keep us moving forward. I'm looking forward to taking trips, up and down the East coast and who knows where else.  

1:00 pm arrives inner harbor, Gloucester. Boat's not leaking a drop. The harbor is very quiet, so few boats. No one moving except him, he didn't see any draggers or fishing boats, only a couple of lobstermen. It's eerie not to see marine traffic. Once inside he tied to a nice little aluminum boat, perhaps a research vessel doing inventory of the Stillwagen Marine Sanctuary. I always think of Quasimoto when I hear 'Sanctuary' that said - having just crossed Cape Cod Bay and entered the North Shore you'd expect to see someone fishing. When we fished on the Middle Bank we always had company: the Nauset, the Shirley & Roland, the 'Siver Mink',  always others there looking and hoping for fish. On one of the calmest days we've seen in months, Dave and the Richard & Arnold found themselves on Stillwagon -  this time no one had a net in the water. 

Boat steaming to Gloucester

F/V Richard & Arnold left Provincetown's MacMillan Wharf this morning as the dawn broke over the harbor. Her lines are classic against the lightening sky, with a small wheel house in the stern, masts and rigging swaying -she's on her way for a refit, a much needed haul-out and a rebirth. Last October a nice old man stepped up to Dave and said, "The boat should be condemned. She's no longer safe, too old to be fishing." I wanted to hit him when he put his arm around me and said we'd get over her in a couple of weeks. He did not understand the attachment we had, thirty years, 24/7 fishing, taking vacations, rebuilding, children growing up on her decks, making money, working, living. First we cried, then we got mad and then began talking to others who had delt with old boats before. The Richard & Arnold was built in Fairhaven MA in 1934 began fishing in 1937  How could we just let it go!!! She's not only a  big part of our lives- a part of Provincetwon- she's also part of our maritime history, there are so few like her left and she's a damn good fishing boat.