You gotta love your hubby when he gets up every morning at 4 am, drives 30 minutes to get to the beach, and spends his day in the North Atlantic, pulling pots, hoping for heaps of the tasty crustacean called a lobster. A good day for my hubby is a catch of 125 lbs or so. 25% of that comes right off the top, to pay my uncle, who is his shareman. He also has to pay for bait, gas, and other expenses too numerous to mention. At the end of the day, he makes a modest few dollars, but nothing we are going to get rich from. The weather this year has been ridiculous. Every day for the last week has had a forecast of a gale warning, so it is a wait and see game. If he gets up and the trees in our yard are not bent over with the wind, he goes. If they are, he doesn't.
Lobster fishing is not what it used to be. I remember as a child, my mother paying well in excess of $6.00 a pound, directly from the fishermen on the beach. It was a spring ritual. Everyone had to have at least one feed in the spring, when the season opened. Now, the price is pathetic...$3.50 a pound. With rising gas and bait prices, it is debatable whether it is feasible to fish.
I hope the price of lobsters rebounds soon. It would be a shame if the men and women who grew up learning this craft at the feet of their fathers have to give it up in order to find alternative means to support their families. Those who do this for a living truly have it in their blood, and would have their spirit broken if they had to work anywhere other than the sea. I know my hubby would be devastated. And so would I.
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