Jimmy Tarantino

Sailing with Alex

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Sailing with Alex

By Thomas Welch

 

 

Growing up in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, you’d think Alex Thomas would be passionate about cheese….or beer….or the Green Bay Packers.

Nope.

22 years ago Alex met and fell in love with his wife, Diane, whose dream it was to live on the coast of New England. So by “dumb luck” (as Alex describes it) they landed in Gloucester, settling in Bay View and raising their two children, Emma and Isaiah.

Alex quickly discovered his other great passion…Gloucester Harbor! Already an experienced sailor (he was a Sea Scout on Lake Michigan), Alex now keeps his 26-foot Typhoon sailboat moored off Rocky Neck.

It was blowing about 10-15 when Alex picked me up to go for a sail, but 20 minutes later, by the time we put in at Stevens Landing on Rocky Neck, the wind had come up to 20-25 mph. “No problem”, says Alex.

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With a confidence only years of experience can provide, Alex sets the tiller hard to Port, knowing she’ll fall off that way, he lets the mooring go. As if eagerly following some unspoken command, the vessel quickly brings her bow about, fills her sails and takes off, skipping over waves toward the western shore. Though it’s early August, this much Northerly wind not only invigorates the senses, it requires a light wind breaker to protect against the cold spray off the bow.

We enjoy an afternoon ripping back and forth from Niles Beach to Stage Fort Park, passing just south of the big rock off Ten Pound Island on every tack.

One of the many special gifts of spending a lot of time on Gloucester Harbor is the camaraderie you share with the other “regulars”.  Even if you’ve never been formally introduced you “know” them by their boat, their seamanship and their reputations. Alex offers a smile, wave and nod to Capt. Heath Ellis and his passengers on the schooner “Thomas E. Lannon” as we fly by each other, starboard to starboard. The same pleasantries are exchange with the happy passengers aboard the Charter fishing boat “WEJACK”, anchored on the fish at one of Capt. Joe Arsenault’s “sweet spots” in the Outer Harbor.

What a great way to spend an afternoon. Bonding with Nature. Reading Wind and Wave and reacting in accordance and respect of their power, enriching your Soul.

Alex is a perfect example of the thousands of residents who have settled in Gloucester over the years and embraced it. He makes a valuable contribution to the community by not only appreciating the Heritage and the amazing natural resources, but, more importantly becoming part of them.

 

By the way, if you know, or get introduced to, Alex Thomas in the next few weeks,  wish him luck. He and his dorymate, Donnie Favalora will be representing the U.S. in the Senior Division of the International Dory Races in Lunenburg, Nova Scotia on August 29th!

 

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The Blackburn Was a Challenge!

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Gloucester, July 25, 2015

Enduring Gloucester Contributor  Jimmy Tarantino completed the 22-mile Blackburn Challenge today, rowing alone in a Grand Banks dory, as a tribute to the great Gloucester doryman Howard Blackburn, for whom the race is named.

Tarantino said, before the race, ” I am one of hundreds of rowers and paddlers blessed with the physical ability to be able to compete in the Cape Ann Rowing Club Blackburn Challenge tomorrow. In tribute to Gloucester’s maritime heritage and the great Howard Blackburn himself, I choose to row alone in a Grand Banks Dory. Should Mother Nature smile and provide a fair wind, lifted by the love and support of friends and family, I aspire.”

Rough conditions this morning forced almost 50 of the over 200 registered rowers and paddlers  to forgo the race or turn back within the first few miles.  Tarantino not only completed the course,  but stopped to help two paddlers floundering in the water after their 20-foot outrigger canoe was swamped by the five-to-six-foot waves a few yards from the rocks at  Andrews Point, just before the 8-mile mark at Halibut Point.

“I threw them my stern line and told them to grab it if they didn’t want to get slammed up against the rocks. ” Tarantino said. ” I was thinking of coming in myself,  but then I saw my friend Chad Johnson coming up in the Harbormaster’s boat, and he took care of them from there. I saw five or six boats capsized out there. It was pretty sloppy. The Harbormaster was busy.”

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Tarantino rounds Halibut Point, at approximately mile 8, with 14 miles to go.

Lanesville’s Damon Cummings, helping out with the race in his motor skiff at Lane’s Cove, as he does every year, reported that 34 people in all were pulled from the water today.

After the race, Tarantino, who chose to row alone to honor Blackburn, the “Lone Voyager” said that what kept him going was not so much his solitary will, but the support of all the people- friends, family and acquaintances- who wished him well, and encouraged him, who came out to cheer him on.  “If they could believe in me, I had to believe in myself, ” he said.

“And all the other rowers out there alongside me today. They were inspirational. Two men older than myself really impressed me. Fenton Cunningham and Russell Atkinson are in their 60s. They  came down from Clarke Harbor in Nova Scotia to row with us today, and they finished in an amazing four hours and nine minutes- an hour faster than men half their age. that’s the kind of enduring spirit I’m talking about. That’s tradition. That’s community,” Tarantino said.

From the website of the Cape Ann Rowing Club, sponsors of the race:

The Blackburn  Challenge- History

The event both celebrates and helps to keep alive the story of Howard Blackburn’s desperate mid-winter 1883 rowing of a small fishing dory from the Burgeo Bank fishing grounds to refuge on the south coast of Newfoundland. Blackburn and his dorymate Thomas Welch had become separated from the Gloucester fishing schooner Grace L. Fears during a sudden squall and found themselves nearly sixty miles from the nearest land. Over the course of the ensuing five-day ordeal, Welch would give up and succumb to a merciful death, whereas Blackburn would allow his bare hands to freeze to the shape of the oars, and row until he reached land.

Though Blackburn survived he ultimately suffered the loss of most of his fingers and toes due to frostbite. In spite of his handicap, he later went on to twice sail solo across the Atlantic Ocean, earning himself the title “The Fingerless Navigator”. His story is told in Joseph E. Garland’s “Lone Voyager”.

Lone Voyager - Story of Howard Blackburn Lone Voyager :
The Extraordinary Adventures of Howard Blackburn, Hero Fisherman of Gloucester by Joseph E. Garland Paperback – 320 pages Rev Ed edition (July 2000) Simon & Schuster (Paper); ISBN: 0684872633From the Back Cover of “Lone Voyager””Like countless Gloucester fisherman before and since, Howard Blackburn and Tom Welch were trawling for halibut on the Newfoundland banks in an open dory in 1883 when a sudden blizzard separated them from their mother ship. Alone on the North Atlantic, they battled towering waves and frozen spray to stay afloat. Welch soon succumbed to exposure, and Blackburn did the only thing he could: He rowed for shore. He rowed five days without food or water, with his hands frozen to the oars, until he spied the coast of Newfoundland. Yet his test had only begun.So begins Joe Garland’s extraordinary account of the hero fisherman of Gloucester. Incredibly, though Blackburn lost his fingers to his icy misadventure, he went on to set a record for swiftest solo voyage across the Atlantic that stood for decades. Lone Voyager is a Homeric sage of survival at sea and a thrilling portrait of the world’s most fabled fishing port in the age of sail”

-Lois A. McNulty

Gloucester and the International Dory Races

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International
by Jimmy Tarantino
One of the great traditions of Gloucester is our participation in the International Dory Races. For 63 years the best dory rowers from New England (mostly Gloucester) have competed with the best dory rowers from the Maritime Provinces of Canada (mostly Nova Scotia). I believe that most New Englanders possess an honest, genuine character because our environment forces us to endure nature at its harshest in winter. Add to that the struggle of fishermen working on the powerful North Atlantic and you have the Finest Kind.
Nova Scotians, being even farther North and East have that strong composition as well, perhaps to an even greater extent. As a result the International Dory Races have become so much more than just a competition. Having been blessed to be part of this great tradition for a quarter century, I’ve had the opportunity to experience many of the Finest Kind of the Southeast shore of Nova Scotia, seen their hometowns, met their families, shared their joys and pains over the years.
If you can, put down whatever you’re doing tomorrow morning, (Saturday, June 20)  from 10 ’til noon, and come down the State Fish Pier and meet some of the most genuine souls on the planet!
I’d like to pay tribute to my friends from Nova Scotia with my sincere gratitude for their friendship:

Toast to the Northeast Coast

 

Jones, Atwood, Brackett and Croft

We’ve known throughout the years

 Spindler, Hyson, Mawhinney and Swim

shared laughter and we’ve shared tears

 

Atkinson, Nickerson, Mossman and George

Kindred spirits of Sea and Tide

Henneberry, Zwicker, Knickle and Heisler

All share our Fishermen’s Pride

 

From Sambro down to the Hawk’s rugged coast

All along that beautiful shore

We raise our glass, with respect, we toast

      And welcome our friends once more!

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Jimmy Tarantino is a Gloucester native, a doryman, and a passionate advocate of Gloucester’s heritage.

The Wealth of a Gloucesterman’s Soul by Thomas Welch

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Eastern Rig

The Eastern Rig dragger “Annie,” a Gilardi family boat.

The Wealth of a Gloucesterman’s Soul

From the Maritime Provinces down to Cape May

and every Port in between

His eyes have been blessed, and he’s grateful today

For all the great wonders he’s seen

But it’s the experiences lived, again and again

ingrained in him year after year

The fish, the boats, the places, the men

are the memories his heart holds most dear

He’s seen sunrise and sunsets with no land in sight

Dolphins by the thousands at morning’s first light

Blue sharks feeding frenzy, Humpback whales as they breach

Graceful gannets a-diving, harbor seals on the beach

The delight at first sight of ol’ Thacher’s Light

The crew are beginning to pace

That sight means they’re sleeping home tonight

In their women’s, instead of Winters, embrace!

The deckhand sings, the Cook blows his nose

The bell-buoy rings and the foghorn blows

The cry of a blackback gull

These nautical sounds every Gloucesterman knows

Sure as storm waves will pound on the hull

The growl of the winch, the squeal of the block

The splash of the waterfall under the dock

as the wash-hose melts fish-ice above.

Knee deep haddock on deck,

a fat “shack money” check,

Special moments the fishermen love

The loud, constant rattle of Jitterbug forks

Bouncing over a broken wet floor

The yells from the Hold to the Hatch to the Wharf

keep the fish flowing quickly ashore

Muscles hardened by pulling, a thousand times each:

The oars of a dory, a dory up on the beach

Stern line aft, Spring line forward

Bow line taut, stern in, shore’ward

The Hatch cover off, Boots and Oilskins on

Penboards up and a boom hook down

Fighting sleep, he’s pulled the night watch from midnight ‘til dawn

Storms got bad then he’s pulled into town

A wire basket of whiting, the guts outta Cod

To spread wire on the reel? A heavy steel rod

A net full of fish up and over the rail

A rough wooden box of Large Dabs off the scale

A pallet off the stack, a good Captain’s leg

The Rum jug off a bar and the tap of a keg

Good men gather together

Whenever there’s weather

Northeast Gales keep boats tied to the pier

Fried Grey Sole down Mitch’s

Cold beer by the pitchers

Good friends, laughter, music and cheer

The waterfront abounds with these smells, sights and sounds

Rich memories more precious than gold

Building great strength of character which can only be found

In the wealth of a Gloucesterman’s Soul!

~ Thomas Welch

On Gloucester Harbor, by Thomas Welch

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On Gloucester Harbor

The Dory seems to nod with glee

as I stride down the dock with my oars

She, like me, knows she soon will be free

of the lines that bind to the shores

Captain Gus shouts a sharp morning greeting

from the “Captain Dominic’s” deck

In the cool, green shade under Fisherman’s Wharf

a Snow Egret cranes her neck

My awareness expands with every stroke of the oar

out of Harbor Cove I row

to be at Sea, away from the shore,

is a joy only Mariners know

The feel, taste and smell of the crisp salt air

The Wind has the Ocean seething

Me and the boat and the Sea all share

The waves rise and fall, Nature’s breathing

The whole harbor now has come alive

A breathtaking, un-scripted show

Chortling Eiders gather close, the Cormorants dive

Chasing Minnows and Mackerel below

Peter’s sons by the thousands, the finest kind,

have called this Harbor port home

All possessing the genuine character you’ll find

in a Homer painting or an Olson poem.

Set my course for the shore, another day ends

In my wake sunset’s captured in foam

Though I’m blessed on land with fine family and friends

My heart knows this Harbor’s my home.

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Spearing Flounder. circa.1890 George Wainwright Harvey (1855-1930

 

Lobstering by Dory

Enduring Gloucester 1 Comment
The Day After Christmas
By Tom Welch
On the day after Christmas, before the Sun rises, while most of us haven’t even woken up and begun our day of nursing yesterday’s overindulgences  or heading to the Mall to exchange things we don’t need for other things we don’t need, Tom Jarvis is down at Santapaolo’s wharf in East Gloucester. He’s a true Gloucesterman, so the routine of checking his dory and gear for hauling lobster traps is more like breathing than a difficult thought process.

 

He lets go of the lines, rows out of Smith’s Cove and arrives at the Gloucester Maritime dock with the first rays of morning sunlight. His first order of business is to take care of his favorite girl, the only one he’s ever been able to commit to. She’s the “Resolute”, a Burnham-built Friendship Sloop with such beautiful lines you can’t gaze upon her without a double-take or a lasting, long look. The Burnham family courted Tom to buy the “Resolute” for years, knowing he’d take good care of her, they finally let him have her for a song- the cost of the new engine they put in, as Tom says, “I bought an engine with a beautiful boat around it!” He starts the engine to charge her battery and pump what little water might be in the bilge, lingering long enough for a few sips of coffee, his hand on her boom, listening to her purr.

 

 

Now it’s back in the dory, rowing out past Harbor Cove and the Fort, the back of his neck tells him the forecast for Southwest wind was accurate and dictates that he’ll row toward Stage Fort Park, using the lee of the Magnolia shore to get to his first traps set over by Norman’s Woe, the infamous rocks causing the “Wreck of the Hesperus”.
Most of the Inshore Lobstermen are putting their traps ashore for winter because the lobster have migrated to safer, deeper water and winter storms can cost thousands of dollars in damage to a lobsterman’s gear. One passing close by, starboard to starboard, with a deckload of traps, steaming in, shouts “Jarvis!” and Tom acknowledges the greeting with a respectful raising of the chin. The hands, arms, back and legs are too busy sweeping the oars and driving the dory the 3 miles windward to the first traps. This simple greeting holds countless fathoms of mutual respect, each knowing they share the many secrets that only come with Sea time.

 

Once on his gear he quickly secures the first buoy to the dory, using it as a mooring line to hold the boat in place just long enough for him to don his boots and oilskins.  As he hauls his traps he is totally present, senses heightened by the pitch of the Sea, the squeal of the gurney and the cold salt spray spinning off of it. The Southwest wind freshens. The waves grow larger with white caps and deep troughs between. Now Mother Nature requires total awareness or she’ll take a toll. Tom embraces what she has taught him, raising his sails, she takes him ENE to Black Bess, the rocks off Joe Garland’s house on Eastern Point, where he hauls another couple of strings.

Again the sails are raised, this time the port rail to the wind as he steers NW to his gear south of Ten Pound Island. A Harbor Seal recognizes the dory and swims nearby, hoping another tasty herring will make its way into the water instead of the bait bag. And so it goes. Hauling. Setting. Trimming. Steering. Rowing. Every motion a lesson in efficiency taught by years of experience. When all is said and done he is back at his truck before noon.
The haul for the day?
Six keepers.
What???
 Six Lobsters, that’s it???
There are those that would say, “What a fool! All that work in the freezing cold for six lobsters? It’s not worth it!”
It’s not about the lobsters for Tom Jarvis, Hell, these’ll most likely end up either in his Mom’s kitchen or in a pot on the woodstove of Gino Mondello’s “Dory Shop”, feeding his fellow Gloucestermen on a Saturday afternoon.
It’s about the connections…. with the Waves, the Seal, the Lobsterman, the Sun and the Wind. 
It’s what he does.
It’s who he is.
A true Gloucesterman.
Before most people even get out of bed the day after Christmas.

 

Lobstering by Dory- the Day After Christmas

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The Day After Christmas

By Tom Welch

On the day after Christmas, before the Sun rises, while most of us haven’t even woken up and begun our day of nursing yesterday’s overindulgences  or heading to the Mall to exchange things we don’t need for other things we don’t need, Tom Jarvis is down at Santapaolo’s wharf in East Gloucester. He’s a true Gloucesterman, so the routine of checking his dory and gear for hauling lobster traps is more like breathing than a difficult thought process.

He lets go of the lines, rows out of Smith’s Cove and arrives at the Gloucester Maritime dock with the first rays of morning sunlight. His first order of business is to take care of his favorite girl, the only one he’s ever been able to commit to. She’s the “Resolute”, a Burnham-built Friendship Sloop with such beautiful lines you can’t gaze upon her without a double-take or a lasting, long look. The Burnham family courted Tom to buy the “Resolute” for years, knowing he’d take good care of her, they finally let him have her for a song- the cost of the new engine they put in, as Tom says, “I bought an engine with a beautiful boat around it!” He starts the engine to charge her battery and pump what little water might be in the bilge, lingering long enough for a few sips of coffee, his hand on her boom, listening to her purr.

 

Now it’s back in the dory, rowing out past Harbor Cove and the Fort, the back of his neck tells him the forecast for Southwest wind was accurate and dictates that he’ll row toward Stage Fort Park, using the lee of the Magnolia shore to get to his first traps set over by Norman’s Woe, the infamous rocks causing the “Wreck of the Hesperus”.

Most of the Inshore Lobstermen are putting their traps ashore for winter because the lobster have migrated to safer, deeper water and winter storms can cost thousands of dollars in damage to a lobsterman’s gear. One passing close by, starboard to starboard, with a deckload of traps, steaming in, shouts “Jarvis!” and Tom acknowledges the greeting with a respectful raising of the chin. The hands, arms, back and legs are too busy sweeping the oars and driving the dory the 3 miles windward to the first traps. This simple greeting holds countless fathoms of mutual respect, each knowing they share the many secrets that only come with Sea time.

 

Once on his gear he quickly secures the first buoy to the dory, using it as a mooring line to hold the boat in place just long enough for him to don his boots and oilskins.  As he hauls his traps he is totally present, senses heightened by the pitch of the Sea, the squeal of the gurney and the cold salt spray spinning off of it. The Southwest wind freshens. The waves grow larger with white caps and deep troughs between. Now Mother Nature requires total awareness or she’ll take a toll. Tom embraces what she has taught him, raising his sails, she takes him ENE to Black Bess, the rocks off Joe Garland’s house on Eastern Point, where he hauls another couple of strings.

 

 

 

Again the sails are raised, this time the port rail to the wind as he steers NW to his gear south of Ten Pound Island. A Harbor Seal recognizes the dory and swims nearby, hoping another tasty herring will make its way into the water instead of the bait bag. And so it goes. Hauling. Setting. Trimming. Steering. Rowing. Every motion a lesson in efficiency taught by years of experience. When all is said and done he is back at his truck before noon.

The haul for the day?

Six keepers.

What???

Six Lobsters, that’s it???

There are those that would say, “What a fool! All that work in the freezing cold for six lobsters? It’s not worth it!”

It’s not about the lobsters for Tom Jarvis, Hell, these’ll most likely end up either in his Mom’s kitchen or in a pot on the woodstove of Gino Mondello’s “Dory Shop”, feeding his fellow Gloucestermen on a Saturday afternoon.

It’s about the connections…. with the Waves, the Seal, the Lobsterman, the Sun and the Wind.

It’s what he does.

It’s who he is.

A true Gloucesterman.

Before most people even get out of bed the day after Christmas.