Without sentimentality, David Wade’s clear eye takes in the fishing
community that works on Widgery Wharf. His photographs could easily do
otherwise: Widgery Wharf with its rough, weatherbeaten planks seems a quaint
anachronism in the middle of Portland’s busy waterfront. The fishermen who own
the wharf and their tenants look the part of old salts working out of ramshackle
sheds.
The rundown appearance of Widgery Wharf makes unpretentious
camouflage. It keeps the pedestrians swarming along Commercial Street from
scrambling down to poke around. More attractive sites beckon nearby. There’s
no reason for anyone not related to one of the boats to even think of stepping
out there.
It’s just as well, because this is a working wharf. Fishing boats berth
alongside. Bait is loaded aboard, and later in the day the catch is landed. Traps
are stacked on boats in the spring and on the wharf in winter. Boats that do go
out in winter return listing to windward, that side encrusted with ice. In worse
weather fishermen repair their traps and do chores. Pilings are replaced when
necessary.
David Wade records it all.
To give an overview of activity of Widgery Wharf for a June show at the Art
Gallery in The Clown in Portland, Wade selected 14 photos from the hundreds
he has taken. The photographs include fishermen working on the water, on the
wharf and inside their sheds. Wade printed the black-and-white photos in
duotone, he says, to give them more dimension.
A wharf, which is neither on land nor at sea, has its own particular
topography, depending on the season. In one photograph the viewer looks up a
steep cliff of traps to see a figure climbing down. In another, several stacks of
traps form the wharf’s own architecture against Portland’s skyline.
Likewise the men working on Widgery Wharf make their own particular
schedules that attend to tides, the weather and the season. Leland Merrill pulls a
tote of bait, the lean of his body a line more angled than the lean of the sheds or
the stove pipes.
Inside his shed David, another fisherman, repairs traps. The interior shows
the philosophy of these men: keep everything because someday it will be
needed. The trap David is working on combines the new — plastic-coated wire
— and the old — a wooden rectangular frame.
And they can do just about anything. In another photo of David’s shed,
Leland gives David a haircut. Hanging right in front of David is a tagged deer,
waiting to be gutted and skinned.
Nature is always at hand. Winter’s perils and trials are clear in photo of
CELTIC PRIDE caked with ice. Her crew unloads a scant catch. Two eerie
photos taken beneath the wharf at dead low tide show the work of worms on the
pilings. As Al Urquhart baits traps aboard, a gull caught hovering in the sun’s
rays suggests the moments of beauty on the water.
Wade recently returned to Maine, which he has known since early childhood,
after working for 10 years in Japan. This accomplished photographer, with many
awards, shows and books to his name, has found himself drawn to Widgery
Wharf for over three years. Wade plans a book to document these men, many
well over 70, on Portland’s oldest working wharf, dating from 1774.
Theirs is “a good society,” he says; independent, resourceful, sharing and
direct. “I wanted to capture it on film, and in the end it captured me.”
You can see Wade’s work at www.DaveWadephoto.com or reach him at
dwade1@maine.rr.com or (207) 871-7113.