One week to go
In one week the traps will be on the bottom, filling up with those expensive little buggies that make the tourists all weak at the knees. At least, that’s the hope. You see, in certain coastal areas the annual lobster season will begin at dawn on the first of May, and hundreds, nay thousands of fisher people will again pray for healthy harvests and high prices. Think of a very wet gold rush, with no gold but lots of wet. There you are, lobster fishing.
The news stories are enough to inspire optimism. No stock in Boston. Prices up to $15 per pound soaking wet. Warm waters that have kept the ice packs far away; there’ll be no delays this year. The boats are ready. The traps are filling up the wharves, all tagged and tight. I’m not so sure about the buoys being painted up since GPS is standard equipment now, but for the sake of the image, yes. Painted up in dayglow colours that will stand out for opening day at least.
My hopes are with them. I’ve been to sea, you see, and although there’s no life like it, it’s a mean one, Mr. Grinch. You see, the whole thing is a gamble from the get go, and the buyer is worried more about his profit margin than the share for the boat. Those high prices won’t remain past Mother’s Day, and if fishing is good then basic market economics kick in. Guess who lives on the under side of the graphic?
For the curious I want to point out a really interesting article from the University of New Hampshire, dealing with lobster behaviour. Great read. It serves as a virtual eye opener when one must fish vicariously. And for the visual among you, here is a photo diary of setting day in 2006. Brings tears to my inland eyes. (Charlie was my third cousin on my father’s side).
