Friday, Nov. 11, 2003. Veterans’ Day. 30 degrees at 6 a.m. A calm morning with not a boat left in the harbor at Islesford. Early that day, the voice of co-op manager Mark Nighman came over the VHF radio telling fishermen in the area to “wave goodbye to the GALE as she heads down east.” The STORMY GALE has been a familiar black hull in the Islesford harbor for 27 years. She was Bruce Fernald’s lobster boat for nine years before she was purchased as a work boat for the Cranberry Isles Fishermen’s Coop. Bruce has employed a variety of sternmen over the years, but he married the one who worked with him for the first three years aboard the STORMY GALE. The new co-op boat is an open-sterned RP 35 named DIVIDEND.
Wednesday, Nov. 12. Another mild day with temperatures reaching 55 degrees at noon. A very busy day on the waterfront as fishermen brought in traps that will remain on land until spring. Floats have been hauled out at Islesford and Great Cranberry. Ring’s Paving has finally been able to be barged out for road repair. There was chatter on the VHF radio that the “Barbie lobster” had been caught again. She was missing her skirt but still sporting those pink high heels and a blue shirt.
As many islanders do, I keep the VHF radio on at home when Bruce is out fishing. Not just for the most recent “Barbie” update, but to hear how the weather is, to be alert if someone needs help, and to make the occasional phone call, if needed. The fishermen keep track of whose boat is still out for the day, and stay alert to any breakdowns or calls for help. When Bruce first started fishing in 1974, the means of communication aboard fishing vessels was either ship-to-shore radio or CB. His father, Warren, remembers the day he decided to get a ship-to-shore radio for his boat, the MOTHER ANN. It was May 5, 1956, when a daughter, Karen, was born to Ann and Warren Fernald. In the same hospital ward was the wife of Philmore Turner of Swan’s Island. The Turners were welcoming a baby girl born on the same day. No matter the situation, when you put two fishermen together they will always talk about some aspect of fishing. Philmore praised the safety benefits of his ship-to-shore radio and Warren made the decision to get one of his own. As other fishermen became equipped with the radios, not only could they keep track of boats from their own harbor, but also they could often communicate with fishermen who were farther down east. While running between gangs of traps they traded stories of their fortunes and misfortunes. When some words over the radio are not quite comprehensible, the gist of the message is usually clear. An unfamiliar boat name may not translate so accurately, as in the case with a fisherman from down east who owned the RANTING COW. When Warren met up with the fellow at a Maine Lobsterman’s Association meeting, he asked how such an unusual boat name was chosen. It turned out that the boat was actually named the Randy and Carl, after the fisherman’s two sons! Regulations eventually made the ship-to-shore radios obsolete, giving way to CB radios and followed by the current use of VHF and cell phones. Half a century of technology allowed Bruce to make a phone call from our kitchen to a friend’s boat in Nova Scotia to find out how the second day of their lobster season was going on Nov. 26.
The first week in December brought plenty of wind and the first cold temperatures and snow of the season. On Dec. 6, Edgar Blank was once again the mailboat captain on a very windy Saturday. It would not have been surprising to have the afternoon boat canceled, as the wind blew northeast at a steady 50 knots. The 3:30 run was what some call a “bell ringer” of a boat ride; when the motion of the boat is rough enough to cause the ship’s bell to ring on its own. You know you are in for a rough ride when the captain and crew move all packages off the seats and onto the floor before the boat even leaves Northeast Harbor. We all made it safely home just as the snow started to hit the islands. People planning to return to the islands on Sunday found themselves stranded on the mainland until Monday. Drifts from the snowstorm measured 29 inches in Beverly Sanborn’s yard on Great Cranberry.
On Dec. 16 at 7 a.m. the winds at Mount Desert Rock were blowing ESE at a steady 50 knots with gusts up to 56. All boat trips were canceled. Postmaster Joy Sprague tells me that this was only the fourth time the mail had not come through since Beal and Bunker started their mail contract in the 1950s. Steve Philbrook was seen surfing in the swells that afternoon off of Gilley Beach. More than 50 people gathered upstairs at the Islesford Neighborhood House on Friday, Dec. 19 for a wonderful potluck supper and a fun holiday program. Classmates and teachers acted out the poem, “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas.” Amy Philbrook played the piano and Jesse Minor played the fiddle to accompany some new versions of traditional songs. Melissa McCormick and Frances Blank managed to be both creative and humorously accurate with their version of the Twelve Days of Christmas. The inclusive last verse: “On the twelfth day on Islesford a lobsterman gave to me: twelve dips a year, eleven Islesford students, ten swimming loons, nine bumpy roads, eight sailing boats, seven lobster cars, six big tide pools, five lobster boats, four broken cars, three local docks, two B and Bs, and one empty general store.” Cindy Thomas, Jesse Minor and I ran into the water at 3 p.m. on Saturday to qualify for the December Dip of the Month Club. The water temperature was 44 degrees. Stefanie Alley had taken her dip a few days before, while Joy Sprague managed to get her swim in at the last minute on Dec. 30. We have each accomplished a swim in the ocean at least once every month in 2003. On Jan. 1, 2004, with whitecaps in the harbor, 38-degree air and 41-degree water, 10 women took a dip in the ocean at Sand Beach on Islesford. A new year begins. Best wishes to all for a happy and healthy one!
Barbara Fernald
Islesford
