O U T H E R E I N T H E R E A L W O R L D
“We’re Not Giving Up Yet!”
Young fishing families on an offshore island have
hope for the future
by Eva Murray
The F/V Starlight Express. Photo courtesy of Chelsey Bemis.
On Matinicus Island there are no children enrolled in the K-8 school this year. The population in February can be counted on one’s fingers and toes, there aren’t enough boats in the harbor to even mount a decent search and rescue, and somebody enjoying a long walk on a sunny afternoon might see smoke coming from only a very few chimneys.
Each islander who keeps a post office box gets this newspaper in their mailbox. Many subscribers also get Landings, the newspaper of the Maine Lobstermen’s Association, or National Fisherman, or other local publications which keep an eye on local maritime and fisheries industries. The news we all read, whether we happen to own a lobster boat or not, is serious. Even for those who do not fish for a living—the people who keep our power company and the phone lines and the town office and the post office running, the farmer and the plumber, couple of retired folks, and me—the lobster industry is still the bread and butter. Without it, we don’t make a living here, either. Matinicus is a one-industry town. We might as well all work at the mill.
On top of recent and potential regulatory changes in the industry, can a town which is basically dependent upon lobstering survive bait shortages, environmental changes, and the rising costs of everything boat-related? Likewise, can a community where many of the working-age residents also maintain another home somewhere else consider itself sustainable?
Believe it or not the answer appears to be a hopeful-—if logistically complicated—“yes.”
At least for the near future, the young lobster harvesters of Matinicus are upgrading boats, buying homes, starting families, getting involved in municipal government, and investing in their tiny hometown.
Blair Bemis Macleod, a 33-year-old island native and mother of 2-year-old Cooper, is the primary breadwinner as her husband works as “stay-home dad” this year. Her 30' Repco “Miss Isle” (and yes, some people do say “Missile”) is small by Matinicus standards but, she remarks, “I don’t have to have the show boat when I pull into the harbor. I don’t think speed is key. It takes 35 gallons of gas to haul 350 traps. That’s nothing!”
Running the only gasoline engine left in Matinicus Harbor, Macleod calls her old 292 “easy to work on.” 2020 will be her first year fishing 800 traps, none of which she says she purchased new. “I like starting small, and affording what I can, when I can. I don’t want to bury myself in debt. Of course, in the future I’d like to buy a new boat, but I’m buying a house right now.” She, her husband, and their young son live in the Matinicus home where she grew up.
“I believe that if you stay on the smaller side, your longevity in the industry is more stable. I only fish to 35 fathoms. I don’t see myself fishing offshore because of the amount of money it takes to catch a lobster. It’s not worth it to me.” Macleod is skeptical of unending growth in the fishery. “The lobsters move in different cycles than they used to. Some years, it seems, the season is shorter.”
I asked Macleod whether she was confident that she could make a living for her family for at least the time being. “Yes. (I think) the fishing will hold on around the island. I’m not so sure about everyone going out farther and farther, not convinced that’s a good idea. My boat is not big enough for me to fish all year or way out there anyway.”
“If my son chooses to fish, I’d like him to have the option. He’ll have a lobster license and do the summertime stuff as he grows up, but I won’t push him. I’ve come back here (to the island) by choice,” says Macleod, “and I have had other jobs. I’m happy about that.”
I asked Macleod about whether she planned to enroll Cooper in the island’s one-room school when the time came for kindergarten. “I hope that he and some of the other island kids do go to school here.” The reality is that no parent wants their child to be the only kid in school. Six young Matinicus lobster-catchers have preschoolers and all of them are acutely aware of the reality that our school sits empty at present (although it is most assuredly not closed!) All have the option to choose a mainland school as well now, and none of these families will enroll a child on the island simply “to keep the school open” or to make a point. Nobody wants their child sitting alone, missing out on the fun of a classroom full of friends. Everybody is thinking about extra-curriculars, sports, and similar activities. An intimate and low-stress one-room school experience has its advantages, too—but all agree, there needs to be a group.
The fact is, no young family is “stuck” on Matinicus anymore. Those days are pretty much over.
School photo from the Matinicus Island one-room K-8 classroom, September, 1997, which included my kids and many of the island’s young fishermen who now have their own kids. Standing row, left to right: Teacher Katie Finn, Evan Kohls (who now works for Hamilton Marine), Heather Ames (David Ames’ sister,) Chris Frost, Blair Bemis, Shannon Ames (David’s other sister). Seated row, left to right: Jessica Frost, Tyler Bemis, David Ames, Emily Murray, Eric Murray, Josh Ames. Photo courtesy of Sari Bunker.
Macleod’s younger brother Tyler Bemis and his wife Chelsey also have a baby son, Colby, and also fish Matinicus Island waters. Bemis’ operation is more typical of the younger island fishermen in that his boat, the Starlight Express, is larger and faster than Macleod’s and some of his gear is offshore. Of the Starlight Express Bemis says, “It’s a 38' Holland, built by my father-in-law and his brother, coincidentally, years before I met my wife” (the boat used to belong to Bemis’ father, Mark, when Tyler and Blair were children). “When they built it in the 1990’s, it had a bigger engine and was the fastest boat around at the time.”
Bemis, who currently serves as a Matinicus Plantation Assessor (similar to selectman,) explains that he started working on boats at age seven and owned a boat while he was in high school on the mainland, fishing summers. “After high school I joined the Coast Guard Reserves and was in that for six years. I went sternmen for Josh Ames. My ‘real’ lobstering career began when I was 20 years old when I bought a better boat and decided I wanted to fish full-time.” The Starlight Express is the 28-year-old Bemis’ third boat.
Ames, only a couple of years older than Bemis, is another young Matinicus fisherman who grew up in the industry, went to the one-room school here, returned immediately after high school, and is now married with preschool-age daughter Hailey. His wife Robin, an RN who still works on the mainland sometimes, also serves on the Matinicus Board of Assessors with Bemis. Josh Ames fishes the Independence and faces the same fishing challenges and family decisions as Bemis and others of their demographic. Another friend from the same gang of grade-school buddies, Josh’s cousin David Ames Jr., fishes Matinicus waters from the Renegade. His wife Stephanie was instrumental in fundraising and installing the new preschooler-sized playground equipment near the school last summer. Their children Leah and Lucas have options on both sides of the water, with Leah, the older, enjoying both preschool on the mainland and going with dad to haul “her” traps off Matinicus during the summertime.
Not everybody owns a boat right away, of course. Nick and Christian, kids who also went to school with the aforementioned young captains, are working as sternmen here, and they, also, have babies. They look to the future of Matinicus with hope.
“The living we make is comfortable,” remarks Tyler Bemis, “but there are always uncertainties with new regulations. You don’t want your overhead to be too high because you never know.” Bemis expressed concern about proposed new regulations, suggesting that some of them will make the work more dangerous, and that some of the decisions could be made by individuals or agencies who don’t know enough about the realities of the industry. He also indicated that he hopes the fishery will continue to be managed at the state level.
Chelsey Bemis, who serves on the school board for Matinicus (RSU 65) likes the option of a mainland school for Colby. “We are fortunate enough to live in both places.” She and Tyler say they “would be supportive of their children pursuing lobstering as a career. It would be great for them to take advantage of student licensing so they don’t have to be on a waiting list as an adult. However, I would also encourage them to consider some education outside of lobstering—college, trade school, military—those first few years after high school.”
This is important. Many of the kids, particularly the boys, who have grown up on Matinicus Island have just assumed from childhood that they would lobster. Some of them may not have been presented with many options by their families. Parents now—as positive a light as they shine on the idea of a career in commercial fishing—know that nothing is certain. These young parents encourage their children to love, respect, and support this island community, but they wear no “rosy-colored glasses” about the future. All agree it is best to have options.
There is a myth sometimes heard (among people who do not live on islands) that to live on an island requires an oddball mentality, a decision to avoid the “real world,” a wish to go back in time a hundred years or to be essentially a hermit. That is all nonsense, at least when it comes to Matinicus. The working families of this small town cross the town line, meaning they cross Penobscot Bay, frequently and for all sorts of reasons. They want the best for their small children, and they have choices in that regard, more choices than some of their own parents had. Recent prosperity in the industry has brought some of them the freedom of two residences, island and mainland. Still, this does not mean they have stopped thinking of Matinicus as home. There is perhaps a bit of sentimentality in that, but there is also a business plan and a good deal of hard work.
“If lobstering stays good,” says Tyler Bemis, “there will always be people on Matinicus, fishing.”
Eva Murray is the Recycling and Solid Waste Coordinator for Matinicus Island. Eva’s last lobster license was dated 1990, the year her son was born, and cost $53.00, which at the time she thought was an awful lot of money.
