A day on the water

As we sailed out of Fortune Harbour, with the sun just cresting the water, the rolling of the boat under my feet and the sound of the gulls crying out overhead. I could practically hear the reels of Eddie Arsenault lilting in the background. This was what it truly meant to live on Prince Edward Island.

This was how I started out on a once in a lifetime experience of fishing on a Prince Edward Island lobster boat. The boat was typical of lobster fleets on the island. Fibreglass hull, wide, but fairly shallow, compared to the deep and tall long-liners back home in Newfoundland. A small wheelhouse, a mechanical hauler, fish pans, bait took up most of her open deck. The cold fish hold, and a small cabin in the bow making up below-deck. No room for a reality show here.

The captain of this lobster boat worked closely with the restaurant I was working at, which gave me the connection to spend the day on the water. My role at the time had me spending innumerable hours with lobsters in various states of undress. Most of my week was filled with the cooking, shelling and serving of these sweet crustaceans. I had processed literally hundreds that season already. When I heard that our fisherman was offering the opportunity to come aboard and work for a day alongside him and his crew I jumped at the opportunity. Living out the nautical dreams of my childhood and getting to see exactly how these deep-sea dwellers are caught? Count me in.

The day started out bright and early, I was out of bed at 3:00, and racing down to the docks for 4:00 when we were all to meet by the boat. I saw our captain and was introduced to his crew. One a seasoned hand who had been with him for a few years, and a younger gentleman, just starting out in the fishery.

I got a quick tour of the boat and safety equipment, thrust into a proper set of oilcloths and then was told of my position for the day. I was going to start out banding the lobsters as we pulled them in. Although, throughout the course of my day I managed to work my way up to baiting the traps, and all the way to hooking the buoys, hauling the traps up, and launching them back out again.

The involved processes, efficiency, and quick pace of this fishing boat were somewhat familiar to me. Lots of moving parts, and stations dependent on each other. Felt an awful lot like a line during service.

Travel to the traps - head to the location where your lobster traps are set. This is marked out by GPS, and the traps set on the water with orange buoys. Follow the heading, and find the trap-set.

Hauling the traps and sizing the lobsters - Once we got to the location of the traps we hooked the buoys, put the line on the hauler and pulled the trap from the bottom, up onto the deck.

Here I was shown how to check the sizing of the lobsters to determine if they met regulation size requirements, as well as telling if they had any eggs. Lobsters in the process of laying are not allowed to be kept under any circumstances. A little bit like sorting through the produce order and making sure you got what you were supposed to.

Banding, sorting - Once the admissible lobsters were onboard, they were to be banded and sorted. That’s where I came in. Before me sat a box of thick, blue rubber bands, about the same diameter as a quarter. Along with a funny-looking steel object I was told was called a “bander”. Essentially, a pair of pliers that worked in the reverse. Instead of squeezing inwards, they forced the bands open, just enough to fit around the claws, letting the bands stay on and the claws be held closed.

I will freely admit, that during my course of banding, I had the unfortunate incident of getting into an arm wrestling match with a big bruin of a lobster. In my head I thought “it's only a lobster claw, it can’t possibly be that bad.”, but boy was I wrong. I don’t think my forefinger had proper feeling again, until my hands were on the wheel and headed home. Those crusher claws, used to crush shells and hold prey down were not to be messed with.

Baiting - I believe that perhaps the captain took pity on me, after my run-in with The Claw, which is why I was put onto trap-baiting duty. Here I would take the trap which we hauled up, remove the chewed-up carcasses left on the bait spike and place fresh, mackerel and gaspereau chunks back on. The scent of the fish wafts through the water and draws lobster into the netting of the trap.The trap reset and then over to where it was launched back out once more. All of this was a lot like putting out orders at a steady pace. One trap comes in, one trap goes out.

After a good day's catch, our Captain told us we were heading back to shore. We had checked and set all of his traps and he was happy with what we had caught.

The hold full of lobster, we began steaming back to the harbour. Once there, the lobster was hoisted up onto the docks, weighed and stowed. Then came a hose-out and clean-down of the ship, taking on more bait and getting the ship geared up for the next morning's trip out to sea.At the end of it all I was run-ragged. I couldn’t fathom getting up and doing it all over the next day, and the next day and the one after that, 6 days a week all season long, respite being reserved for Sundays.

The crews that make up the fishery are a hardy and tireless bunch. It takes a good deal of gumption to get up every day, in the dark and the wind and head out on the ocean, to ply your trade. If I took anything away from this experience, it was cementing that a proper price for high-quality seafood, allowing the harvester to make an honest living just makes sense. It’s a product that requires a lot of time, effort and skill. That and garnering even more respect for all the fish, crustaceans and shellfish that pass through my hands on their way to the plate.