Life With A Fisherman

That was a summer I’ll never forget. It was full of adventure and training for me to be a seaman. And the stories Captain Ben told me were breathtaking. One day, we were out in Salty, sailing around Nomans Island. I didn’t know it at the time, but Captain Ben was laying the ground work for me for a later date. We were on the rip side of the island, which is where the tides meet at the point of the island, and it tears your boat apart if you’re not on guard. The sea was flat, and we were just outside the rip looking at the cliffs of the island. Just off the point of the cliffs, the waves were 30- to 40- footers. “Young Cappy,” the captain said, “Always remember this spot. See those cliffs? See those shorelines? See those waves? Those waves can only be sailed at flat tide. And flat tied only! Always remember that. I call this the point. Don’t ever forget this place. This is where Salty went to the bottom 10 years ago. Those are the hands of sea that took her,” as he pointed at the white caps of the 30-foot waves. “When she went down, I did all I could do to swim around that point. The only way to the point is by boat because of the cliffs and shear ledges.” Then he looked right at me and said again, “Always remember this place I call my point.” And I did. I’ve always remembered that place and for good reasons. Very good reasons.

Anyhow, we were on our way back to the bluff. The winds were very week, and the sea was flat. We could just see the point of the bluff harbor. The captain shouted, “This is where I started the chase with the pirate ship that sank the Barnacle. This is where I became to be known as the captain of the sea. I was some 25 years old, I was fishing the shoreline and looked out to sea and seen the flags with the skull and bones. It was the pirate ship, and I knew I had to take her and all her crew. I was just a mate at the time, but I had to make a decision of a lifetime. There was only one sail in harbor that had just been released from dry dock repair. It was the biggest of our island fleet and well gunned. All of our other ships were out to sea, and there were no captains on land. I ran to the church and rang the bells of safety. The only hands on the island were the sons of seamen. ‘Farm boys.’ All the experienced crewmen were out to sea. But that wasn’t going to stop me. It was my time for revenge on that ship and all who crewed her. All the young men came running to the bells. I knew the captain of that ship was the man who left me to bury my mates years earlier, and it was my time.” I yelled to the young men that where assembled at the bells, “Prepare for battle. It’s the pirate ship of the coast.” They looked at me dumbfounded. “But we have no captain to lead us,” one said. I yelled, “Prepare for battle and to the Viking now! I’m your captain!” And with that, everybody swam out the ship called the Viking.

We set sail very fast, and to the deep sea we went. The crew worked great together. They asked no questions, and we sailed into the horizon after the pirates. The guns were full of powder and ball. We were ready for battle. All knew that we may not return, but we were ready as ever. The Viking was a much faster and bigger ship than any at that time. We outgunned that pirate ship, and I knew it. All I could remember was them pulling aside the barnacle with their guns firing into our side, sinking us. All the new crew with me knew the story of the Barnacle and what we faced. We sailed nonstop for three days after that ship, slowly getting closer and closer to her. The sea was rough, and it was raining very hard as we approached. I got out in front of her and then turned back into her. I kept just within range of our cannon firing at those pirates. I knew her guns couldn’t reach us, and we had just one chance of taking her out. I also knew that we did not have the advantage of experience that these pirates had on us. I looked down at the crew and saw very brave and very nervous young men. But they stood tall and were ready for battle. We were broadside, and the ship started firing on us . I yelled, DON”T FIRE TILL I GIVE THE WORD!” Their cannonballs were hitting the water next to the Viking. We were out of reach from her guns. I turned the Viking so we were perfectly broadside with that ship and yelled “fire!” All 20 guns fired at once and all the balls hit. I yelled, “Fire at will!” The men reloaded as fast as they fired and hit her again. We were on her portside, and I could see into her hull. We had blown her into pieces. We kept firing at her. The masts came tumbling down, and she had no sails.

I sailed the Viking to her starboard side and yelled again, “Fire at will! We circled that ship three times and never stopped firing at her. She was sinking. I yelled, “Don’t stop firing until you can’t see her anymore! It was a cloud of black powder. The smoke cleared, and there was nothing but water. All the crew went down with her. I then looked off the bow and for a moment seen the Barnacle with all the crew standing on her deck. They were looking at me with smiles.” And the captain bowed his head. “Then the Barnacle disappeared in the smoke of the powder. I remember thinking to myself, ‘I’ve revenged my mates.’ We returned to the harbor of the bluff and the stories spread across the coast of the new Captain Ben and his young crew. The Viking was giving to me to protect the East Coast from other pirates, and that is what I did for another 20 years. As I got older, I retired my ship called the Viking and became a fisherman from my home in the bluff, and I’ve lived in my house built from the Barnacle ever since. Right around 1860, a new oil was found inland, I think in Pennsylvania. It’s called petroleum, and it replaced the use of whale oil in our lamps. That’s why your dad and the island fleet is turning to fishing and farming.

“Whaling was becoming part of history, and the bounty isn‘t there any longer. I still burn seal oil in my lamps, young Cappy.” Then he looked at me and asked, “Would you like to get oil with me? My lamps are running low of oil. Meet at Salty at first light. It’s time for seal oil,” he shouted. We then sailed around that point of Nomans Island and headed to the bluff. I’ve always remembered that point where the hand of sea comes up from the water to grab your sail.

On the way back in we looked to our south and saw the sails of my dad’s ship coming back into harbor. They had been out fishing yellowfin tuna. Dad had made some agreements with a canning company. I remember him being very excited about that. He had told Mom that it was the future of fishing, working with those canners. We were looking at those sails with the sea as the background. It was a breathtaking sight. I was staring at the ship and daydreaming of being on the ship with the crew. It was like Captain Ben had read my mind. He shouted, “You’ll have your day, young Cappy. You’ll have your day!” Then Captain Ben said, “I remember the day I picked your father from the hands of sea.” That got my attention. I’d never herd this story. He went on to say, “Your dad was a youngster aboard a whaling ship. They set sail on an August day. They had been out for a few weeks and were due back from the north. A storm set in on us that lasted two fulldays. The winds were over 100 miles per hour. The island was a mess, trees were down all over the place. Ships were blown up on shore. What a mess it was. After the storm settled, I walked up to the lighthouse and seen your gram doing what is called the widow’s stare.” A chill went down my spine that I’ll never forget. “She asked me to gather the crew and sail the Viking in search for them. She had bad feelings about them out in that storm. I assembled the crew and out to the north we sailed. I knew the direction that they were supposed to be coming back in from and factored in the winds of the storm. For two days, we zigzagged out there looking for the sails. I had thought the worst, the odds were against them.

“On the third day, Rilly yelled from the crow’s nest, ‘BOAT TO STARBOARD!’ We looked at a small boat with only four men on her. Your dad was one of the men. We pulled them in to safety. They were cold, hungry and exhausted from their fight to survive. They told us that the storm hit them from all sides and that a 60-footer came up on them from the stern, rolling the ship over end to end. The crew of four were the only left out of 15 men. They watched the sail sink to the bottom, and the only thing floating was their small lifeboat. They had been on it for two days without food or drink. I took your dad under my wing and taught him the way of sea. Your dad is a great captain now, and you’ll never hear him talk of that storm.” And I never did. That was something Dad kept to himself. I was very quiet for the rest of the sail back home that day, just staring at Dad’s sails coming into harbor. I couldn’t stop thinking about what my dad must have encountered in that storm so many years ago.