The man I’m talking to, Dickie Hildings of Vinalhaven, has a powerful presence. He is all brawn. If you wondered about his age, the word “experienced” would suggest itself. He’s from a Vinalhaven family, has lived here all his life, fished here all his life, owns a tough and fast boat – the WHAT’S LEFT – and has a way of using those eyes of his and a sly smile and a drawn-out “Darlin’.” Even with the advantages of growing up on the island, there are no guarantees for who grows up to be a successful lobsterman. He clearly is one. His commitment to fishing is fierce and tenacious. He lobsters year-round in Penobscot Bay. None of that is what sets him particularly apart from the rest: plenty of others on the waterfront have the same devotion, beloved boat, long hours, physique and lifestyle. It is said of Dickie that he can psych out the lobster “hot spots;” he downplays intuitive abilities and calls it luck, or at best, common sense. He says of following his father into lobstering at an early age that it was a choice, not a given. Cutting wood one winter, he tossed the chainsaw into the thicket, making a clean break with other ways to earn a living. For Dickie, it’s worked out. He lives hard, works hard, feels it’s worth it. To be a good lobsterman on an island dedicated to fishing – that’s some success. Over the years, he’s survived various personal setbacks including the untimely death this past winter of his sternman, Buster, who had loyally served in that position for years but was also so much more. These days, Dickie is raising his own teenage son and looking after Buster’s teenage daughters.

But something else in the picture makes him special too. Although it figures as a truly bright spot, it is nothing he calls to my – or anyone else’s – attention. Above and beyond any distinction he has earned using his hands and his head, there’s a title he’s had bestowed, giving him claim on a niche – call it his “15 minutes.” Dubbed “Mr. May,” he posed for a calendar. For the 12 men featured in the “Bachelor Lobstermen” calendar, “au naturel” didn’t mean beefcake – it meant dressed for work, all the accoutrements of the trade surrounding them: traps, boats, trucks. It’s an enlightened approach to pin-ups, very respectful of these hard-working guys. (A sequel has since featured “Lobstering Women of Maine”). They’re various ages and types. Dickie, chosen for the first edition, and the only Vinalhaven lobsterman so honored, still pleads modesty about his selection. He opted out from going to New York for a guest appearance on “Good Morning, America” which several other men agreed to. He fished that day, like any other. He doesn’t refer to himself with that title and clearly relies on the twinkle in his eye to bespeak any bachelor feistiness he might want to convey. But he’ll brag a little about the best moment, the highlight of the experience as he sees it. When he appeared locally on Channel 6’s news program, he was interviewed by a woman reporter. At the end of her questions, he turned to her and unexpectedly asked, “Are you married?” It was a hoot. Everyone in the studio cracked up. Dickie’s phone rang for weeks. He had said exactly what you think a bachelor lobsterman should say, but wouldn’t. His question, delivered deadpan but surely with eyes twinkling, brought the calendar’s concept alive. As I picture that, I think I understand him more. It must be that same verve that adds dimension to the other parts of his life, full of hard work and challenges, but faced straight-on and accomplished with satisfying pay-offs.

Tina Cohen talked to Dickie Hildings on Vinalhaven, July 2003.