Bismore Park

Bismore Park: Introduction

If you've ever been at sea to witness a sunrise, they are as breathtaking if not more than any sunset. The most stark difference is in the following chain of events. Whereas sunsets generally conjure up visions of solitude and romance, and the end of the day, sunrise is the birth of a new day and not necessarily a harbinger of what lies ahead. This particular sunrise was a daisy, the ocean was almost an infinite pond with a nice gentle swell. The morning sky was crystal clear as the stars gave way to light 90 miles south of Nantucket Island in the Ambrose shipping lane while the F/V Madison Reilly steamed eastward to the 3000 line on the LORAN overlay to start hauling the first of her 1500 traps.

The Madison Reilly was a refugee so to speak, from the Louisiana shrimp industry that was over powered by offshore lobstering standards.

At only 55' , this Bruno-Stillman was re-keeled with a 9' draft and powered with a Detroit Allison 12-71. Saving the need to ever drag anything heavier than a grapple hook to find a lost trawl, the horsepower was reserved for running the hydraulic pot sheaves at full bore and steaming at 13 + kts., which is pretty respectable for an offshore commercial fishing vessel.

She was however modest compared to the larger 65' and up "Lobster Yachts".

Onboard the Madison Reilly the captain was out in the elements, good or bad, with the crew hauling the gear, not inside wearing shorts and slippers with the heat on, screaming out a window like the big boys.

"I can smell the bugs, Skipper", Bobby announced walking into the wheel house as he made his way to the galley to get a "Cup a' Joe", as he called it.

"Hope so"' the captain half answered as he studied the trawl numbers, reviewing the catch from the last trip and trying to figure out the benthic arachnids. The water was finally warming up, which meant stripers and blues, summer girls on the Cape, the lobster world was finally awake, looking for food and the crew was looking for a paycheck.

"So, last night," the captain paused, tossing the ledger on the dashboard, turning around, "Ginger or Mary Ann?"

"Ginger...trapped in Mary Ann's body," the mate chuckled.

"Nice, we're 20 minutes out, want to get the ladies up, 'Little Buddy',"the captain asked?

It was more of an order than a request. The captain ran the boat, dealt with the owner, fish mongers, and other pleasantries while the handling of the crew was delegated to the First Mate.

Bobby and the Captain had been good friends for years, always covering each others back and when the stewardship of the Madison Reilly came along, the captain didn't hesitate to have Bobby onboard as his mate. Knowing his personality, Bobby could select and direct the crew, while the captain focused on making the boat money. The Gilligan's Island banter just started one day and stuck.

"Alright, kids time to rock and roll," the mate warned as he flipped on the lights and hit the power button on the stereo, suddenly Neil Young and the Blue Notes stepped aboard wailing,

"We are men at work
We got a job to do
We gotta keep you rockin'
To keep your soul from the blue…"

"Five minutes," Chris pleaded knowing the answer would be, "sure, get a job at BK and have it you way."   Chris was Bobby's younger brother, fishing during school and summer vacations.  He had a good work ethic for a "kid", as the captain called him, but that only came into play after he got out of the rack.

Tom Irving, the other crew member, was a more permanent member of the crew but everything is prone to change. Tom was from a Plymouth fishing family but didn't want anything to do with fishing, or his family. Tom wanted out of  "America's Home Town" and his fishing dynasty, but until he had the means to get out, this was all he had and appeared grateful to have it.

Approaching the west-end of trawl 14, the flag was motionless and the pod of dolphins that shadowed the Madison Reilly were dropping off the chase as the captain eased back on the throttle. No matter how many times they escort the boat, it is still an engaging show. As the captain and mate watched, the rest of the crew appeared on deck.

"How close, Cap'n?" Chris asked.

"Half a cup," the mate barked,"get moving."

By the time Chris and Tommy appeared on deck ready to work the captain had already hooked and hauled in the hi-flyer and the mate had it stored on the port gunwale and with the bouyline starting to pile up on deck, the end trap was approaching the surface.

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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