Changes

Everyone tells me the summer is flying by. I've been enjoying the warm days while not paying  attention to how fast or slow things move. Meditating helps, walks on the beach help and the family and grandkids keep me moving. Thinking about time makes me miss what I consider my old self, the person I was with Dave alongside me and what I am now missing: trips on the boat this time of year, traversing the Cape Cod Canal, visiting friends in Menemsha, Woods Hole and New Bedford. Captain Dave was the center of it all. Not only for his stories, his wit, and his charisma, but also for his knowledge. My time on the boat has come to an abrupt halt. After spending all our time together, living onboard the Richard & Arnold for five months I've have begun a second year without him. Change comes to us all.

My heart goes out to the people living on the Gulf Coast, Puerto Rico, and the many islands that have been affected by the horrendous storms and flooding. To lose everything, relocate, start fresh is  difficult. Hold tight to each other for nothing is as important as our loved ones. It is possible to begin anew and to make changes, big and small. Hold onto each other. Things come and go. We all know what is most important in our lives and it's not the things we accumulate, nor the homes we live in.

I was counting the number of times I've moved in my life, from place to place, home to home and I found eleven - not counting the Richard & Arnold for that would add infinite numbers of places where I have lived. We all know that change is inevitable in life. We win, we lose, we hold on. A person can use the change to make life better or to let the changes bury them. We choose our paths. I have always been a strong independent person, but I empathize with those who are not. I understand that we have varying amounts of internal strength and I'm not sure what the magic ingrediant is.  I don't know where faith comes into the mix or  how we  attain it.  I only know that the more you have, the easier our trials and tribulations. Hold on to faith. Faith in yourself, in each other, and in your Spirit God.

I'm still writing. That's my escape route. It's the place I go when I need a place where I am not me, before or after the death of my favorite captain. I enjoy bringing Chief James Crowley to life on the page. He's become some kind of weird part of me. Hard to describe my relationship to this fictional character.

I'm also working on another memoir, the story of our Arethusa. When I think of that time in our lives, many emotions are brought back to me. Many of the people who I now write about are no longer living, except in my mind.  We had so much fun.  It's worth remembering. The scary part didn't come until the last chapter. My friend Bobby G.  was visiting me a couple of weeks ago. We talked about the boat and the trip we took from Provincetown heading for St. Thomas in the Virgin Islands on board our 45 ft sailboat, Arethusa. I told him that Dave always felt responsible for the lose.  Bobby said to me, "Are you kidding, Dave saved our lives on that trip. If he hadn't rebuilt the stern before we left, the waves that curled over and into the cockpit would have broke the boat in half. And Dave knew how to slow the boat down when we were surfing down seas of forty feet. Dave brought us home." Bobby G and I reminisced about the voyage that ended three hundred miles off the coast of North Carolina when a Coast Guard Cutter took all four of us off the boat.  I told Dave many times that he shouldn't feel guilty about the boat, he didn't sink it. But he said he shouldn't have taken us off shore in a forty-five foot boat.  I wanted to make that journey. It was a risk that I was willing to take. It was a chance of a lifetime and there was no stopping me.  Now, so many years later,  I get the opportunity to relive  happy times with Captain Dave and dear long lost friends.

June 12, 2017  I am reading / speaking tonight 7 PM at the Jacob Sears Library in East Dennis. I'm looking forward to the event. It is the second time I have read at this lovely library that is basically unchanged since 1896. Jacob Sears was a farmer who made the right kind of investments and built a considerable nest egg that he left to the town of Dennis for education of its citizens. Mr. Sears married Olive Kelly who's family had a fleet of fishing boats that operated out of Situate Harbor,the same harbor where Dave and I launched our first fishing boat 'the Wildflower' back in 1970. The library has been meticulously maintained and when you are there it is easy to imagine that you have stepped back in time. This will be my first reading without my number one fan. Dave came to all my readings and sat up front to give me encouragement and fill in when the questions about fishing began. I know he will be with me tonight because he is always with me. He is my muse. I talk to him, laugh when I remember the fun times, and allow his spirit to help me find my way. Maybe that sounds strange, but I feel close to him. So tonight I'll brag about what a great fisherman he was, what a wonderful husband and father, and tell a story or two about fishing.

On another note, Squid season is over. Boom, just like that.  The powers that be said no more small mesh in state waters and I don't begrudge it. The local fishermen will move onto fluke or lobster, or scallops, or some other specie that is open.  Fluke season began on the 10th of June, even though it was a non-fluke fishing day. You have to take Friday and Saturday off. So it really opened on the 11th this year. Our son Bob was called back to his tug to help out for a few days. He will jump back into fishing as soon as he gets back. A fresh fluke meal would feel great right about now.

I'm playing catch-up because I didn't get this post out there and now it's the next day. You missed my talk but that's ok. I would recommend a visit to The Jacob Sears Library whenever you get to Dennis. Reminds me of a New England church with books. The reading was fun for me. The first speaker was a woman who wrote a children's book, a surprising story for kids of all ages titled The Piano in the Marsh, A Cape Cod Mystery  Dorothy Hemmings-Bassett is the author and the lively lady who who also spoke and read at the gathering. It was good to see Elizabeth Moisen again. She is author, illustrator, and organizer of ABITH, acronym for A Book In The Hand. Thank you Elizabeth.

Coming up for me (author hat) is a reading at the Harbor Hotel, Provincetown, used to be the Holiday Inn for those here long enough to remember. It is part of the Provincetown Portuguese Festival. I am speaking at 2 PM on June 23 and even if you can't make it to the reading, I hope you will enjoy all the festivities leading to the Blessing of the Fleet on Sunday. There will be music, dancers, and food. There are parades. A festival to rival any.  I will be reading from my second in the Chief Crowley 1938 mysteries, Dead Low Tide. This book follows The Fishermen's Ball and I am already thinking about book three in the series.  June 22-25 is the 70th Blessing of the Fleet and our F/V Richard & Arnold built in Fairhaven, MA, fishing since 1934, will join the boats in the parade on Sunday.

I'm trying to find balance between my losses and my blessings and it is not easy. Some days the loss is overwhelming. Then it is hard to stop crying. But I think of my life, the many years of being next to a very special person. Captain Dave,  I'm so glad for the love we shared, the adventures, our family and friends, our boats, our days upon the water and that's when  I know how blessed I am.

The nut doesn't fall far from the tree

Our son Robert is squid fishing in Nantucket sound. Sound familiar? It's been a slow start and just like his dad he's already changed nets, had a new net built by Jerry Lavin, broke a tow wire, added more balls, and changed the sweep. This is how most squid fishing begins, always with hope in the fishermen's heart, always trying to get the net to fish just right, and always listening to  your fellow fishermen looking for words of wisdom. The squid business has always signaled the end of winter, the renewal of life in the ocean and the prospect of a good weeks pay. It's good to see that our son  loves fishing. I had thought that maybe the family tradition would die with Dave, but it looks like there are more boat nuts in the family. Squid fishing inside state waters will close in a few days then Robert will change nets, change harbors and change his mind set. He will be gearing up for Fluke, a completely different type of fishing even though you tow a net, nothing else is the same. Living gets a little easier, he'll be able to go home at night and there is always the hope for an early day. The State of MA only allows commercial fluke fishing for five days a week, you have Friday and Saturday off. The regulations say you can only have 300 pounds per day, sounds like a lot, but it's only three fish boxes. And the overall amount of fish that can be taken in Massachusetts has been decreased by 30 % this year. That much less fish will cause the season to end earlier and the inshore fishermen will make less money. It was only a few years ago when Massachusetts had an overall quota of over a million pounds, now it is down to 385,988 pounds, and already 29 % of that has been caught as by-catch, before the season even opens. It's a wacky world out there on the ocean. It's a hard way to make a living and as the regulations tighten, fishermen have to find other ways to keep afloat.

David's uncle Michael Diogo 96, died on Memorial Day. Very fitting because he served in the Army Air Corp as captain and pilot in WWII. Then during the Korean conflict he joined the Air Force and served as a pilot. Now that's service to your country. He loved to fly as much as Dave loved to fish. I was reading some materials that his daughter sent to me about his life and I discovered that his grandfather, and his father, and my David's  father were fishermen.  So it is only natural that our son Robert carry on the tradition. That's five generations of fishermen.  The nut doesn't fall far from the tree.  Stay safe, warm and dry. Fair winds.

It's been how long?

It's been days, weeks and months and from what I've read -- this is no way to write a blog. Trying to recapture some of that time with memories is like snatching at parts of a dream, now you see them now you don't. Since my last post life brought a gift my way. I know it may be hard to believe but Dave sent me a present. DD is her name and there are numerous reasons why I know he had something to do with it. He was a very frugal man, recycling long before the word was invented, he didn't like to spend money unless he had to.  Well this little gift was free, not only that but she had all her shots and a microchip, and the woman who bred her walked into my kitchen carrying her. My friend Bev supplied me with leash, dog food dishes, and a crate. All of this happened because I mentioned to a neighbor that I was thinking of getting a small dog. It was like poooffff and there she was three days later. The first few weeks of puppy ownership did not go well. The pup (seven months old) was not house broken, she chewed on everything, would not come to me, and was terrified of loud noises and other dogs. I was stomping around in the snow waiting for her to pee. I had to shovel a place for her, and to be on the safe side I was putting newspapers down on a rug near the door.  I was afraid I was becoming one of those old ladies whose house smelled like pee and disinfectant. Gratefully that has not occurred (Yet). Today after living together for two months I can proudly say that things have changed. She comes (most of the time) when I call her name, she does her business outside (most of the time), she has chew toys and loves to play. The rug is washed, newspapers gone. We are working on her fear of other dogs, but she loves people and wants to say hello to everyone we meet. Then one morning around the middle of January I bent over to pick up the ten pound Carin Terrier and saw a piece of paper stuck to the bottom of my shoe. I peeled it off and there was a picture of Santa Clause and one word - Dave- written across the top of it. And I knew in my soul that he had sent the dog. Since then we have bonded, she understands me and I look at her with love in my heart. It could be a coincidence, but I can still hear his words, "The next dog we get will be delivered to us. We won't have to go looking for one, it will come to us."
I think about all the animals our family has had as pets over the years. Noah the German Shepard, Buffy the long haired mixed setter/lab, Tar a sweet mutt, Dulcie a Portuguese water dog / Poodle mix, a horse named April that I adored and rode for fifteen years, cats Scup, KC, Princess, Fluke, and then the many small animals like hamsters, parakeets, bunnies and of coarse a few laying hens (until a raccoon got into the chicken coop). And now DD to finish the list. I can understand not having a pet. When Dulcie died Dave and I decided not to have any more - "unless it comes up the driveway to us," he said.  We lived a few years without pets. It was easier, there was no demand on our time, the house was cleaner, and having no responsibility is definitely a good feeling. On the other hand I can now legitimately talk to myself, I am forced to walk and I find I enjoy it, the other side of the bed isn't empty, and I have a being that needs me. When I balance the scale, it tips to the positive side. Remember the Wizard of Oz? Judy Garland who played Dorothy had a dog named Toto. Well Toto and my DD look like twins, and my mother named me after Judy Garland- just more coincidence. Looks like this little Carin Terrier is here to stay, thanks to my neighbors, my friends and my guardian angel.