Lobster Fishing and Nail Polish Don't Mix

I was seventeen when I signed up for the lobster fishing mentorship. I went to the Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Vocational High School in Bristol, Maine, past the Lincoln Academy that was set on a hill looking down at us voc-cattle as they called us. We called our school the Longfellow voc school. Funny to name the school after a poet when it’s really a career & tech school with both cosmetology and animal husbandry.

I was late for orientation and viewed the sign-up sheets. All mentors were filled except Captain Underpants, or that’s what the other kids he mentored called him. He’s a transplant from NYC and some say the best fisherman Bristol has ever seen. He was in the FDNY, fighting fires till 2001. Ayuh, a glorious year that was for NYC. He left for a more peaceful community right here in Maine. His boat is named Keep Back 200 Feet, like the big sign on the back of the fire trucks. I still think he doesn’t want anyone near him for at least 200 feet. His reputation precedes him. All the kids knew he had to do community service because he was an aggravating bastard years ago, when he came here in 2002. I think the bar brawls and his adorable accent really hit it with the ladies, the wives of the farmers and such. Farmers’ wives aren’t exactly very pleasant, so I have a feeling the brawls were not with the farmers per se. But anyway, I think he was forced to be a mentor back then and decided to stick with it, albeit still cranky with that sweet accent of his.

I walked up to his sheet and signed my name.

Woah, you can’t sign up here.

Why not Captain…Underhill?

Now see here, you are a girl. Girls don’t learn to trap lobstah.

Smirking, my classmates were probably Tik Toking me.

Once again I have to prove myself.

Don’t tell me to fix some mannequin hair sir, I can gaff buoys all day long.

Not on my boat.

Hello, Hello!! Students or shall I say Mentees, not to be confused with Manatees!

I hated Ms. Lockes. She had a fake flamboyance that matched her fake hair style, and she made me want to barf.  Her screeches can scare away any barn owl.

Orientation is beginning! Here are the forms to fill out and I see the sign-up sheets are done, Oh Captain Underhill, you have only one.

I have only NONE.

SHE signed up for the wrong mentorship.

Let her brush hair or meet a husband in that husbandry class.

A roar of laughter lifted the roof of the annex.

I suppose you still think girls are made of sugar and spice too.

Not exactly.

Now Now, we can change this if you’d like.

All of the students rushed to drop their signed forms to Ms. Henrietta Lockes and went into their respective classrooms where the Mentors of the Sea waited for them.

I am not going to teach a girl to trap lobstah.

His accent was morphing into Mainespeak especially the madder he got. Welcome to Maine Cap’t. Underpants.

Captain Underhill, we have no choice, as you can see everyone else is booked and matched. It will be a wonderful first, as they say! First time a girl signed up for this. Let’s all do our best now, Hear?!

Tootles!

Funny, we both were sitting at the back desks together and looked at each other as she took flight out of the classroom.

It’s like being stuck on a lifeboat with a snake.

Well, it’s like learning from an old rock with no sense of humor.

Well at least rocks and stones have a use.

“Yes”, said David to Goliath.

Harrumph.

4am. Dirty warm clothes, your own food and watah. 

The next week my brother Erick dropped me off at the dock, the interior of the car was deafeningly silent.

Ok, nice talking with you, thanks for the lift.

You know Jara you don’t have to do this. I have She’s a Maineiac and she’s a good boat, God rest Dad’s soul. But gimme a break. A girl lobstah trappah? Dad is rolling in his salty grave.

Thank you for your upstanding confidence!

I slammed the door.

The dawn was creeping up and was the most beautiful sight next to sunsets here.

Keep 200 Feet Back was ready and waiting.

You’re late. Did you have to set your hair?

No, I had to polish my nails and my gun. Good morning to you too.

We made our way out to St. John’s Bay.

The weather wasn’t going to be calm, but I have been on boats my whole life. This was nothing.

The color of his buoys were red and white of course for FDNY, I am sure.

You say you gaff, well show me.

You’re supposed to teach me the how and why.

Nope you said you could gaff buoys all damn day.

Okay, I never gaffed a lot, but I was always on my dad’s boat, and we fished a whole lot.

Never ever lie young one. If I needed your expertise and you lied, where would we be? Trapped in an elevator? A stairwell? Lost at sea?

Huh?

Okay it was a white lie. My dad’s boat had a hauler, and we would haul some traps. But we had to sell it especially when we found out we were accidentally poaching some other fisherman’s area. You can get a bad rep here on the ocean in a small town.

Don’t I know it.

Yea, um no disrespect, but your rep ain’t that clean.

Little girls shouldn’t pry. Grab this end of the gaff.

We worked silently for a good 30 minutes with him showing off his excellent skills for me to soak up aside from the cold rain.

My Grundens kept my feet dry, but I was freezing otherwise.

After learning the skills of the boat, the hauler and how to band the claws, I asked if we could eat as I was starving.

After lunch I’ll show you what the Sternman does. And I mean sternMAN.

I didn’t think he’d ever get over me being a girl, but I knew I could exceed his expectations!

The mentoring was once a week. Four weeks have passed, and there were about four classes left. Everyone wanted to know about Captain Underpants. I was like He’s amazing, I’m learning so much. Leave him alone and he is Captain Underhill.

The next week we met; it was early in September. He was extra cranky, and I wanted him to know what the kids really call him, out of spite. He was not speaking at all. I even brought him his favorite Kettle Cooked NY Chips, Hals.

What is up Captain?

You will never understand.

Try me. I know I am just a kid, but---

THAT’S WHY.

My daughter was 17 on a school trip on September 11^th. I was one of the first responders before the second tower collapsed. That’s where my daughter was.

She loved Hals Chips.

Captain Underhill was Chief Kevin Underhill of Engine 313 Ladder 164.

We sat on the edge of the boat with the calm waves rocking them peacefully. There was a feeling of mutual respect, and I admired him through the veil of tears falling down my face.

Her name was Aquinnah, Native American for Land under the Hill. Her mother was Native American. I told her she couldn’t go, because her mother was going into surgery. Her friends said they’d take care of her. Funny. They found the remains in a stairwell. The students, the teachers and so on. My wife never made it through surgery.

Heartbroken, I reached out to him to hug him. He jumped away and fell overboard.

I wanted to laugh so hard because I saw his underwear and screamed, Cap’t Underpants, grab the gaff!

He did and climbed back in. Shivering in the cold air, soaked, both of us. We ended up laughing so hard when I told him about the underpants thing.

Finally, it was the last class, and he was unable to work on the boat due to his injuries. He stayed on the dock and Keep Back 200 Feet had a temporary new captain, Jara’s brother Erick.

The testers videoed each Mentee on their skills and competence.

Erick was amazed at how strong and how skilled I became. He told me I made it look effortless. He was so proud of me. Surely I’d get to be certified as a Lobster Sternman and Fisherman.

Upon return to land, everyone was clapping. Cap’t Underhill was nowhere to be found. Erick docked his boat and cleaned it up.

There was a note with a lawyer’s name and phone number.

Dearest Jara,

I am so sorry that I couldn’t hug you. You are like my daughter, and I feared the memories would return, well as they do each night. I didn’t want to cry in front of you. I have kept my soul under wraps for too long. I miss my Aquinnah too much, and getting to know you was healing yet beyond scary.

I knew you would succeed. I watched you from the cameras. Just be careful with the tote, as there is a lot of bait, and it would be gross if you dropped it in your Grundens!

Please contact this lawyer. He has some good news for you and your brother.

All my best,

Captain Underpants

***

Captain Underhill was not only injured by the overboard incident, but he also had cancer from being a First Responder on 9/11. He succumbed to cancer soon after the holidays that year.

I am the beneficiary of Chief Kevin Underhill’s of Engine 313 Ladder 164, Victim Compensation Fund.

My brother is now the proud owner of a fully paid off and upgraded, renamed boat, He’s a Maineiac, and I now own Keep Back 200 Feet.

Captain gave us hope in so many ways, and I wish I could see him again on dry land and give him the biggest hug a SternGIRL could ever give him.

I started mentoring for the high school after I got out and became certified as a fisherman, but also an EMT. I want to save lives like he did.