I came across a box of old photos in the attic recently. For me there is no better way to spend some time than to plop down in a comfy chair with a box of old photos. This box was a mishmash of my family’s and Johns, our histories all intermingled.

I came across this image of John when he was all of 19, working on an eastern rig scalloping boat out of Stonington harbor.

He spent his summers working on fishing boats before I met him. It was harsh and tiring work, but he loved it. I was glad he had given it up, especially since we had known of people who had gone out and never come back in. But there was a draw for John to the sea. It was in his blood. His grandfather and his grandfather’s brother owned the Baby 2nd, a dragger whose home port was Noank. His dad left elementary school around fifth grade to work on the boat, working side by side with his father. Later, when John’s dad got drafted, his grandfather sold it, unable to run the boat without him. John’s dad returned home and got a job at Electric Boat, but he couldn’t stay away from the water. He was a fisherman at heart, a draggerman. He bought a small lobstering boat and went out every day, hauling pots and putting in a full days work before his job. John grew up on his father’s boat. His play things were horseshoe crabs and spider crabs. He learned how to pick up lobsters so he wouldn’t get pinched. When he was tired, he would take a nap in the bow, waking up when he heard the buoys off the shore of Noank. He knew his dad would buy him a Pepsi from the vending machine when they reached Fords, where his grandfather would be waiting on the shore. It’s one of his earliest memories.

Sometimes John and his dad would head over to Stonington and sell their lobsters there. John would play with some of the other kids, and then he and his dad would head into town and split a meatball grinder.

Whenever we go to Stonington Borough, we always stop by the docks. We walk up and down, looking at all the boats. John explains to the kids the difference between an eastern rig and a western rig. He tells them stories about the storms they had to ride out, way out at sea. He chats with the guys unloading their catch or making repairs to their boats. He takes deep breaths of the salt air, and I can see he is happy here.

I never got to meet John’s dad. Sadly, he died very young, a few years before we met. But whenever we are near the water, it’s as if he’s with there with us, living on through John’s stories.

This fall, our friend and wonderful photographer Shannon Sorensen shot some portraits for us. I suggested we headed down to the docks in Stonington. Maybe not the first choice for everyone in this picturesque little town, but certainly the perfect spot for us.

 

Thank you, Shannon!

 

Tags: Baby 2nd, Ford's Lobsters, Noank, Stonington, Stonington Borough