| Random Chronicles Sixth Tale |
| New Hampshire Writers |
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| From the creative mind of a New England fisherman comes... |
| Out Of Order Tales From The Sea by Billy |
I was right and quickly found myself there. 100 plus
miles out to sea I had left behind a drift in a bottle a critical part of
my fiber. I have added another neat notch on my belt of career
"wrinkles" as Jack Ford would say. A nuance in fishing out of Gloucester, Ma.
on a trip boat. After returning a week later from the first trip back
I eagerly await our Saturday departure. Very humble I am of the many
opportunities earned from my efforts and it’s with great hope they
keep presenting themselves and I capitalize on them or at least notice
them.
How ironic the place I wrote about just weeks earlier would be the
very place returned six years since retired from trip fishing? 97
miles on an easterly heading, moving and making 7.5 knots about 8-9 mph. 4
men, two brothers and a skipper I had known from times past and
stories before and my smiling ass embarked on what was a most enjoyable
adventure. The 18,000 lbs of dead fish would argue success is directly
related to perspective but we lay claim to it being highly successful. Big
John, Mark his brother and I shared "war" stories, monster messes and
the usual chest beating, why I belong here, fluff your chest kind of
things we all do. Pretty sure that ended in a tie, maybe me slight ahead
but that may play to the lesson the fish just taught us.
F/V(fishing vessel) Ocean Pride 111 made in Newfoundland, this boat
at 45 feet was awesome! Geordie the skipper and owner I’ve had the
pleasure of sharing the deck with before following one of my few, more
to come at sea person transfers. You throw a survival suit on(there
like red gumby suits, help you float and stay alive) and a line to the
other boat. Jump in the water and they yank you over, might I add there
needs to be a HIGH level of trust because in a second things change.
So his crew member was cut bad like ten years ago, the boat I was on was
heading in, we had finished our 7 day trip and Geordie wanted to go
another day or so before he returned. It was kind of shitty weather, not
too rough but not near calm so getting the two forty plus foot boats
together close enough for one man to jump to the other boat and another
man jump back was just not going to happen. Lucky for me after I heard
myself volunteer for this extra call to duty an experience of my own at sea knife stabbing I had
the plan and informed faces of skepticism.
Before, during one of my stints offshore lobstering I stabbed
myself with a knife very bad. Close your fist and take the opposite hands
index finger. Put it in between the hand knuckles between the index and
middle finger in about four inches. I ain’t gonna lie it hurt, it
hurt and it bled....everywhere. Too far from land for stitches a Coast
Guard Cutter was nearby and sent a team over to pick me up. 160 miles
out in the sick bay of this wicked kickass Cutter with a helicopter and
everything I was getting medical treatment. There was a ride in the
super fast rubber boat were I had to wear a crash helmet. Which was a
confusing message in itself, crash helmet? Anyway. How cool they put me
back together, back on the boat. In a small care bag the Doc had
given me 4 pain pills and some good penicillin, when I woke up the next
morning my crew members had helped misplace my pain meds, dicks! We had
just started a trip and no way could I stay, so began the boat hoppin!
g.
Three days later, two boat hops and a most interesting gumby
survival suit swim I was heading home, throbbing hand and all. I knew
Phil’s pain first hand and thought if nothing else it was another
experience. I reassured each skipper how this in fact was the safest way Phil
dawned his suit tethered a line. The captains jockeyed the boats and we
quite comfortably pulled him threw the water and safely retrieved him.
In return getting into his vacated suit the process was reversed
minus a stylish entry into the water I allowed myself for my masses. Back
to port went the wounded and two days later I returned and for the
efforts rewarded nicely in the settlement check. Some "green backs"(shhh!
cash!!).
As per usual ten stories have been invoked and I have spun us off
course of course. When I gave up drinking I gave up a bit too much of
what makes me tick. How often, sad but true we forsake some of the good
to rid the bad? How often the two never connected? Way out on that
ocean on the other side of the horizon I will be there doing best what I
know most and never losing sight or feel of what in part makes us
great. Pride, I will be on the F/V Ocean Pride 111 trip fishing until the
end of May. Off the pier many of industry famous boats have landed
their catch, The Perfect Storm was shot in this area. Cape Pond Ice, The
Twinlights, Glouster Seafood Auction. The Crows Nest, or Tourist Trap,
Rose’s Marine the last of the dying real "fishing ports" on the east
coast.
miles out to sea I had left behind a drift in a bottle a critical part of
my fiber. I have added another neat notch on my belt of career
"wrinkles" as Jack Ford would say. A nuance in fishing out of Gloucester, Ma.
on a trip boat. After returning a week later from the first trip back
I eagerly await our Saturday departure. Very humble I am of the many
opportunities earned from my efforts and it’s with great hope they
keep presenting themselves and I capitalize on them or at least notice
them.
How ironic the place I wrote about just weeks earlier would be the
very place returned six years since retired from trip fishing? 97
miles on an easterly heading, moving and making 7.5 knots about 8-9 mph. 4
men, two brothers and a skipper I had known from times past and
stories before and my smiling ass embarked on what was a most enjoyable
adventure. The 18,000 lbs of dead fish would argue success is directly
related to perspective but we lay claim to it being highly successful. Big
John, Mark his brother and I shared "war" stories, monster messes and
the usual chest beating, why I belong here, fluff your chest kind of
things we all do. Pretty sure that ended in a tie, maybe me slight ahead
but that may play to the lesson the fish just taught us.
F/V(fishing vessel) Ocean Pride 111 made in Newfoundland, this boat
at 45 feet was awesome! Geordie the skipper and owner I’ve had the
pleasure of sharing the deck with before following one of my few, more
to come at sea person transfers. You throw a survival suit on(there
like red gumby suits, help you float and stay alive) and a line to the
other boat. Jump in the water and they yank you over, might I add there
needs to be a HIGH level of trust because in a second things change.
So his crew member was cut bad like ten years ago, the boat I was on was
heading in, we had finished our 7 day trip and Geordie wanted to go
another day or so before he returned. It was kind of shitty weather, not
too rough but not near calm so getting the two forty plus foot boats
together close enough for one man to jump to the other boat and another
man jump back was just not going to happen. Lucky for me after I heard
myself volunteer for this extra call to duty an experience of my own at sea knife stabbing I had
the plan and informed faces of skepticism.
Before, during one of my stints offshore lobstering I stabbed
myself with a knife very bad. Close your fist and take the opposite hands
index finger. Put it in between the hand knuckles between the index and
middle finger in about four inches. I ain’t gonna lie it hurt, it
hurt and it bled....everywhere. Too far from land for stitches a Coast
Guard Cutter was nearby and sent a team over to pick me up. 160 miles
out in the sick bay of this wicked kickass Cutter with a helicopter and
everything I was getting medical treatment. There was a ride in the
super fast rubber boat were I had to wear a crash helmet. Which was a
confusing message in itself, crash helmet? Anyway. How cool they put me
back together, back on the boat. In a small care bag the Doc had
given me 4 pain pills and some good penicillin, when I woke up the next
morning my crew members had helped misplace my pain meds, dicks! We had
just started a trip and no way could I stay, so began the boat hoppin!
g.
Three days later, two boat hops and a most interesting gumby
survival suit swim I was heading home, throbbing hand and all. I knew
Phil’s pain first hand and thought if nothing else it was another
experience. I reassured each skipper how this in fact was the safest way Phil
dawned his suit tethered a line. The captains jockeyed the boats and we
quite comfortably pulled him threw the water and safely retrieved him.
In return getting into his vacated suit the process was reversed
minus a stylish entry into the water I allowed myself for my masses. Back
to port went the wounded and two days later I returned and for the
efforts rewarded nicely in the settlement check. Some "green backs"(shhh!
cash!!).
As per usual ten stories have been invoked and I have spun us off
course of course. When I gave up drinking I gave up a bit too much of
what makes me tick. How often, sad but true we forsake some of the good
to rid the bad? How often the two never connected? Way out on that
ocean on the other side of the horizon I will be there doing best what I
know most and never losing sight or feel of what in part makes us
great. Pride, I will be on the F/V Ocean Pride 111 trip fishing until the
end of May. Off the pier many of industry famous boats have landed
their catch, The Perfect Storm was shot in this area. Cape Pond Ice, The
Twinlights, Glouster Seafood Auction. The Crows Nest, or Tourist Trap,
Rose’s Marine the last of the dying real "fishing ports" on the east
coast.