September is a watchful time of year for people in the Cranberry Isles.
Fishermen closely monitor the path of hurricanes, ready to shift lobster traps and boats should heavy weather be coming this way. Caretakers are keeping their eyes on a few sailboats and small power boats, left in the water by summer visitors who hope to return for one last sail or picnic before they are hauled out for the winter.
Island bow hunters silently watch from tree stands, waiting for the right moment to shoot a deer for the sport of their accuracy and the meat it will provide. Some of us watch for ripening apples, while others keep binoculars close by to identify the migrating birds on their way south.
Dip of the Month Club members are watching the water temperature, wondering if after October’s five-year anniversary they will continue their cold-water plunges for another year. Gardeners watch for frost warnings, giving them notice to cover their plants to extend the brief growing season just a bit longer.
It is the nature of a fisherman’s job to be very observant when he or she is out on a boat. Among many things, they keep an eye on the sea conditions, the engine instrument panel, the bilge pump light, the high water alarm, the sternman who is measuring and banding lobsters, the rope near their feet, the next lobster buoy, the fathometer, the GPS, and the location of each other. Their VHF radios crackle with sporadic snips of conversation as they check back and forth.
“Anybody hauling in the Eastern Way or in the harbor?” A question asked from offshore on the radio. “Yeah, Bruce. They’re burning something in Seal Harbor if that’s what you’re asking about.” “Yup. I looked up and saw a big plume of smoke. Just checking.” They keep an eye on the islands, where most of us are busy, at home.
In August, while on the way to participate in a flotilla of boats honoring the passing of a sea captain from the Cranberry Isles, my husband Bruce’s brother Mark, called on the radio to ask if I had my camera with me.
He pulled alongside the Barbara Ann to show us an over-sized lobster that had muscle shells growing right over its eyes. Mark carefully removed the muscles only to find others growing beneath, requiring further delicate surgery. He likes to think he gave the 30-year old lobster renewed eyesight. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.” I wondered what else have lobstermen seen that they never would have expected?
When a lobster trap is hauled aboard a boat one expects to see lobsters, an empty bait bag, and the usual bycatch of marine life such as crabs and starfish; but there is always a chance that something new and exciting will show up to energize the work day.
Some of the more unexpected things to arrive in lobster traps are sea horses, trigger fish, small octopus, bright turquoise lumpfish, a 20 mm machine gun shell casing with the date 1953, and the occasional practical joke from another fisherman.
At one point in the 1970’s there was an over sized male lobster wearing a pair of work gloves on his claws as he made his way into several traps.
The most successful prank in a long time was the “Barbie lobster” of five years ago. (Cranberry Report, “Beware the Barbie Doll Lobster, Dec.-Jan. 2003). For a few weeks in September she entertained at least 10 local fishermen by crawling into their traps. It is well worth going on the Internet and Googling those two words for a good laugh, and to see how an Islesford fisherman’s joke turned into a national news story.
Lobstermen see some pretty unusual stuff above the water, as well. In the mid 1970’s, as gulls circled his boat waiting for scraps flung from the emptying bait bag, Rick Alley tossed a baby lobster out of the trap and it landed on the back of seagull. The lobster grabbed on to the wing feathers with both claws, as though holding a set of handlebars, while the gull flew around the boat several times trying to shake him off.
Six years ago, Rick and his crew Rebecca Larkin watched as a young of the year gannet approached them, flying about 30 feet above. While in flight he was still trying to swallow a two-pound mackerel, but half of it was sticking out of his beak. Rick and Rebecca were not the only ones with their eyes on the strange sight. Flying about 10 feet off the water, a bald eagle was closing in, unseen by the gagging gannet.
They watched in wonder as the eagle swept up from below, taking the gannet by surprise. He flew upside down as he grabbed the gannet by the tail and swung him around until his squawk caused him to drop the fish. The eagle, only interested in a meal, let go of the gannet and grabbed the mackerel from the water just as it was about to sink below reach. As the eagle pulled into the wind carrying the fish, the gannet flew by and gave him a few snaps before continuing on his way.
Though Bruce Fernald has had his share of encounters with birds, it was a vision on the horizon that made him scratch his head on a foggy summer morning. He looked up from hauling traps to see a two-story house eerily floating on the water in the distance. A barge, totally obscured by the fog at that moment, was transporting the house from Eastport to Deer Isle. Another time at sea, Bruce received an excited call on the radio from his brother Danny, “Bruce, look behind me!” A minke whale was off the stern of his boat, breaching and following him, to breach several more times near the boat as Danny increased his speed. On the last breach the whale was close enough to splash water into the boat.