Friday, August 24, 2018

A Lobster Day in Maine

Maine and Lobster. Those two words are practically joined at the hip. Even the sign says so.

While we were in Maine, lobsters were part of our itinerary. The weather was good. The rain had taken a break and given the sun its place in the sky. And we headed for the water.

The Rugosa is a Lobster Boat out of Kennebunkport that takes landlubbers along while they haul in the daily catch. We also had a drive-by look at President George H.W. Bush's little place on the water! Well, it's actually not all that little. But I'll get to that later.

The Rugosa has a two person crew. Phil, the captain, cruised the waters, locating his traps and bringing them aboard, while Jesse, the naturalist, told us about molting and mating, big and little claws, why females prefer having wider hips.... in short we learned about lobsters and lobstering.

For instance...

Have you ever wondered how those big claws get a rubber band around them? Turns out, they aren't born that way. It also turns out it's so easy, even a kid can do it as long as they have that handy banding tool (and someone to hold the wiggling creature).

And if you've ever wondered, the closed claw doesn't just protect humans, but other lobsters. They are feisty critters who will grab ahold of anything! Even each other!

Speaking of claws that grab, lobsters have two distinct claws; the crusher and the seizer, which pretty much tells you the main job of each one. The crusher is the biggest one.

Lobsters live on the bottom of the ocean. They don't swim around. They eat mainly what is found there, like crabs, sea urchins, snails, plants and other fish.

Once a Commercial lobster fishermen gets a license, he or she can work up to 800 lobster pots or traps. However, getting a license in the state of Maine isn't easy. There are a limited number of licenses and they can be passed from generation to generation. There is currently a 15-year waiting list!

And then there is the buoy. Each lobster fisherman registers the color scheme that identifies his traps. Most use a 2 color scheme although you can do more. Which makes me wonder, how many color combinations can you come up with before you run out of schemes? Perhaps that explains why our boat had 4 colors on their buoy!

Our boat was licensed as an educational boat, and had only 20 traps. We visited 5 traps on our tour. That left 15 traps for the other 3 daily tours. We had lobsters in each trap, but we were told that one trap is baited with 2 lobsters so there will always be a catch. The other 4 traps were up to chance.
Maine residents can fish up to 5 traps, after passing a test.

As I said, lobsters are feisty and they tend to lose parts of their body. Luckily they can regenerate legs, claw or antennae. Two of the lobsters we caught that day were growing new claws. One had a really tiny new claw coming in, but this lobster's new claw was coming along.

After the lobster fisherman snags his trap he lays the buoy on the gunnel of the boat so other fishermen know he is checking his traps, and loops the rope over a pulley, and pulls..... and pulls.

If he's fishing in Maine, he inspects the lobsters in the trap, keeping those whose bodies are between 3" and 5". The smaller ones are thrown back to get bigger. The larger ones have proved to be of hardy stock and are thrown back so they can mate and produce strong offspring.
Jesse is holding a sizing tool against the lobster to measure it. This one is just 3". The whole tool in her hand is 5".

This is the rule in Maine, but not all states. If you ever get a big lobster, it came from other New England waters, not Maine. The ones kept are put in a live well, a tank with water, until they get to shore.

He also flips the lobster over to make sure she isn't carrying eggs on her abdomen. This lobster is not carrying any eggs. If she was her underside would be covered in tiny black bubbles or dots--the eggs. A female with eggs is always returned to the ocean. Female lobsters have wider tails than males to carry anywhere from 5,000 to 100,000 eggs. That sounds like a lot, but between hatching and growing up, less than .02% may survive, only to land on my dinner table. Makes me really glad I'm not a lobster.

But this guy's a keeper! And so is the lobster.


Two of the Rugosa's traps just happened to be by President Bush's (#41) place.

We stopped offshore to learn some more about lobsters, and to wave at the Bush's in case anyone was looking.

When the flagpole is flying the U.S., Maine, and Texas flags it's a sign the family is there. We were also told that while we were watching them, they were watching, and listening, to us. After that, everyone had only very nice things to say!

Then it was time to return to the dock. Jesse let the kids take turns tossing our catch back into the water. As a licensed educational lobster boat, the Rugosa isn't allowed to keep its catch.
When we got back to the dock, the Secret Service Boat was coming through the inlet.

Was it something we said??

Our tour was fascinating and we learned a lot, but once back at the pier, it was time for dinner. We headed down the coast to Kittery, where we could enjoy dinner on the docks. Truth be told, in coastal Maine any place with a tank of water and two-burner hotplate advertised lobster for dinner so we didn't have to go very far. However, as my husband puts it, my family has a TRADITION.

Members of my family have eaten at Chauncey Creek for the last 50 years, and I wasn't about to snub my nose at TRADITION.

Here the lobster is delivered fresh to the dock each day.


Chauncey Creek offers chicken tenders for those who want them, but that's not what they're known for.

After all that time learning about lobsters, you would think we would have a new respect for the tasty critters, and we would be looking forward to a hamburger for dinner.

Nope. We just had a healthy respect for the gourmet dinner before us, and the people who caught it.





Friday, August 10, 2018

Lord Willin' and the Creek Don't Rise

Common expressions. We say them everyday. Wake up one humid morning and suddenly your hair won't do anything. It's a Bad Hair Day, or maybe you just have Bed Head. Say it, and everyone knows what you mean. And once it happens to you, it's more than just an expression. It's reality.

And so it is with us.

We are traveling in the northeast and it's been a wet trip so far. We've had plenty of nice days, some exceedingly hot days, and our share of very wet days. Enough so that the expression "Lord willing and the creek don't rise"* has become more than just an expression.

We camped in Twin Bridge Campground in St. Thomas, PA. It has a sleepy little creek that runs through it. Until the night it poured for 2 straight hours. The next morning all of those people who had hoped to camp near a trickling brook had fled for higher ground. The brook was now a fast flowing river, running loose through the same place campfires had glowed the night before.


The next campground was better, but not by a lot. There was standing water in the first site we were given. Fortunately, they were able to move us to a drier one with hay spread out over the muddy ground.
The water was deep enough all through the site, Larry couldn't get out without boots.

Our third campsite was in Clinton, Connecticut at Riverdale Farm CampsitesWhen we pulled in we saw signs for tubing, and heard we could swim in the river or the pond. The pond is a small watering hole with a beach. A nice place for kids to play and parents to float on rafts. I had a hard time finding the river. It was a narrow stretch of water that wound its way through thick brush.

As I write this I am watching that "narrow" stretch of water. We've had a fair amount of rain this week, but today it is pouring non-stop. Flash Flood alarms are screeching over my phone like a police car siren in London. There is a beach ball stuck in the bushes on the other side of the creek, and a campsite electric pole on the bank. As I stand in the kitchen and look out the windshield, I've visually marked the position of that beach ball compared to the top of the electric pole. It has been steadily getting higher. It's not rising fast, and no one seems very concerned. But I'm watching it. Closely.


The rain has finally stopped, but best of all, the sun has come out and turned the world around. 

The sky is blue. The beachball has come loose from the bushes and has disappeared downstream. People are tubing, because, well, NOW, there's definitely a place to tube. And the creek has remained within its banks.


I have a new appreciation for the expression, "Lord willing and the creek don't rise." It's been a wet summer and I don't think its over. Tomorrow we move to another campground. That is.... Lord willing……


You can fill in the rest.


*The original expression, "God willing and the Creek don't rise" has been attributed to Benjamin Hawkins in the late 1700's, when he served as an agent between the U. S. government and the Creek Indians. However, I've only found one reference to that.  It has since developed into the colloquial expression we use today.