Perilous Living

Every time they do a study on high-risk jobs commercial fishing seems to win. Around here this winter that has been more than passingly obvious. There was an article in the paper yesterday that the wreckage of the Lady Luck was found 50 miles out of Portland Harbor under 500 feet of water. No trace of the two young fishermen aboard was found. Sad, sad, sad.

Mark told me today about another loss. A fisherman named John Symonds who moored his lobster boat off of Pirates Lane near where Mark moored the Black Sheep is dead. When John wasn’t out fishing he was always working on that boat. Just last Sunday Mark and I were out there talking and the whole time John was busy on his boat. Last night Mark pulled into the parking lot and there was an ambulance loading John’s body. Something happened apparently and he wound up in the water. Being in the water of Gloucester Harbor on a March afternoon is not a good idea. (Photo of John's boat at left by Dun Fudgin who photographed Mark's boat for the cover of his book.)

Mark said he had talked to John yesterday afternoon. They were talking about Mark’s book which John is mentioned in. Mark said the last thing John said to him was, “Boy, I liked that book. You sure did a good job.” Mark is very sad.

Risking your life on a daily basis just to earn a living is incomprehensible to me but a lot of people do it. I have taken some risks in my life — most of them dumb — and the results have been a mixed bag of great experiences and ridiculous losses. But losing your life... that’s hard to imagine.

The other night at dinner the “chicks” and I were talking about things we have done in our lives. One member of our group wrote a book about sex workers and did some fascinating research that involved going to some dangerous-seeming bars and meetings with shady characters. Another lived for several years in the brush in Botswana doing research and managed to get herself kicked out of South Africa. Her passport is still stamped “persona non grata” in that country. Twice in my life I sold all my possessions, loaded my car, and drove cross-country to towns where I knew virtually no one and started a new life. I was much braver then.

Of course those things are probably somewhat safer than braving the Gulf of Maine in the cold of winter but, nonetheless, we get credit for doing something a lot of people wouldn’t have dared. The thing that I know about that is that, when you are doing it, you don’t think about the danger. You think about the adventure and that is what most commercial fishermen do — they think about making a living in a way that works for them.

In his book, Mark has two stories about “going into the water”. Once in February when his boat was sinking. The Coast Guard found him and pulled him out — his boat was lost. The second time was a lot more terrifying but, since it is the last chapter of his book, I won’t ruin the story.

So today there is one less fisherman in this city of dwindling fishermen anyway. It is sad. I didn’t know John but I saw him often puttering aboard his boat — he always seemed happy and content doing that. I’m guessing he would call it fair that his last moments were spent aboard his boat.

Pirates Lane won’t be the same without him.

Thanks for reading.