My husband Bruce and I combined a recent trip to Portland with a celebration of my 60th birthday on May 4 and a meeting of lobster fishermen and buyers on May 5.

No trip to Portland is complete, for me, without a stop to stock up at Trader Joe’s. Consequently, that’s where I spent my time while Bruce met up with fellow fisherman David Thomas and their co-op manager, Mark Nighman. Once I had filled my bags and cooler with boxes of Irish breakfast tea, frozen chicken and shrimp Gyozas, and Trader Joe’s Uncommon Cheddar Cheese, I drove to Commercial Street to park and wait for Bruce.

A half hour later he got into the car, fastened his seat belt and said, “Well, they want us to go to Cleveland.”

“What?!”

“Yup. We met with owners of a big grocery store chain. They’re doing a Father’s Day special selling Cranberry Island lobsters. To promote the brand they want their customers to have a chance to meet the fishermen who actually caught the lobsters.” 

“Oh man,” I said. “I bet you will have to wear your oil pants!”

“Well, I refuse to stand there in oil pants and a sou’wester just so someone believes I am a real lobster fisherman. I’ll go to Cleveland, but I won’t be wearing foul weather gear!”

Maine lobster fishermen have done such a good job with their conservation measures that the catch keeps increasing every year. Unfortunately, the demand has not risen along with it and fishermen are once again facing a summer of prices too low for their catch.

The only price increase seen by fishermen is the rising cost in what they pay for bait, fuel and everything else needed to catch lobsters. It’s time to think outside the box when looking for new markets. If that means sending a fisherman to Cleveland to answer questions about how lobsters are caught, why not give it a try?

Any Midwesterner who hasn’t tried lobster might develop an interest and a taste for the crustacean after talking to these guys. Shoppers assuming they will meet a Maine version of the “Gorton Fisherman” will be in for a pleasant surprise.

The fishermen from the Cranberry Isles are far from the crusty, bearded curmudgeons that were once considered the lobsterman stereotype. They are comprised of businessmen, snowplow operators, teachers, women, artists, poets, firemen, EMTs and musicians. They are conservation minded entrepreneurs from a variety of backgrounds. Their experiences range from climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro to fluency in Spanish, and many are incredible cooks. Several of the fishermen represent fifth and sixth generations of islanders who make their living from the sea. In no way does this make them predictable characters.

Bruce Fernald proved this when we were invited by our friends Dan and Cynthia Lief to attend a fund raising gala for the Ubuntu Education Fund in New York City in early June.

We are always excited about this two-day trip to New York because the pace of life is so very different from our island routines. Last year we went to the theater on the night before the gala but this year we had an invitation from Henry Isaacs and his daughter Olive to attend a performance by the American Ballet Theater at Lincoln Center.

Our friends were betting that Bruce would be reluctant to spend two and a half hours immersed in tutus and toe shoes followed by dinner reservations at 10:30 p.m. They were wrong. Bruce is up for just about anything as long as he doesn’t have to get up at 4:30 the next morning to go fishing. The evening was a hit. The next day we walked along the East River with Dan and Cynthia and then went to Chinatown to meet Henry for our annual pre-gala lunch of soup dumplings at Joe’s Shanghai.

After wandering through Chinatown we had some time on our own so Bruce and I took the subway back toward our hotel. Cynthia told me earlier in the day that a nearby salon was having a manicure/pedicure special; $25 for both. There is nothing I like better after lots of city walking than pampering my feet. I knew exactly how I wanted to spend the next hour. I asked Bruce if he wanted to join me for a little mani/pedi indulgence of his own, my treat. What do you suppose my lobster fisherman husband said to that?

When the guys go to Cleveland next weekend they are not likely to be wearing the orange rubber overalls they wear on their boats. Customers could experience something contrary to their expectations of a rugged Maine lobsterman. David looks the part with his full beard, but he also carries business cards for Thomas Lobster, his own seafood shipping business. (Once those customers taste lobster from the Cranberry Isles, they will want a source for more to tide them over before their grocery store features the next special.)

They will still hear a charming Maine accent when the fellows respond to their questions, but they may be surprised by some of the answers. And, when they shake hands with Bruce, they will find that he really does have the stocky strong wrists and hands of a long time Maine fisherman—with the trim nails and cuticles of a New York banker.

Barbara Fernald lives and writes on Islesford.