The Cape Ann Museum puts out a monthly publication for
children called Timeship. It features biographical material on Cape
Ann residents from all periods of history. The issues focusing on fishing
and seafaring introduce some interesting characters.
Man
Overboard!
In December 1909, Hilton Acker was standing watch aboard the schooner
John Hayes Hammond which was fishing on Quero Bank. A huge wave came
over the bow and struck Acker squarely on the back. He fell hard,
dislocating his shoulder as he hit the deck. Then he was swept across the
rails into the icy North Atlantic water.
By the time he realized what had happened, Acker was far away from his
ship. Any other fisherman might have drowned, but Acker knew how to do
something that few other fishermen could. He knew how to swim.
Despite his dislocated arm, oilcloth coat and heavy boots, Acker
managed to reach the side of the John Hayes Hammond. The vessel had
listed over in the gale, but she was just beginning to right herself when
Acker reached her. As the rail emerged from the water, he threw his
dislocated arm across it. Despite intense pain, he hung on and used his
other arm to haul himself aboard.
The Race It Blew
The biggest event planned for Gloucester’s 250th anniversary in 1892
was the Fishermen’s Race. Vessels were to sail a course that started at
Gloucester’s Eastern Point, took them as far south as Davis’s Ledge, and
then brought them back to Gloucester. Captain Maurice Whalen, like most of
the other captains, entered his fishing schooner, the Harry L. Belden,
in the race.
Excitement ran high as the race approached. A week before the race,
other captains brought their vessels into port, emptied their holds, and
had them hauled out for cleaning and repairs. But where was Maurice
Whalen? Four days, three days, two days, one day before the race…and still
there was no sign of Captain Whalen or the Harry L. Belden.
Captain Whalen and his crew were out seining for mackerel. The Captain
had fully intended to be home in time for the race. He would have been
there in plenty of time if the winds hadn’t died and left the Harry L.
Belden becalmed.
Finally, a wind came up the day before the race. The Harry L. Belden
made it back to Gloucester that night, but tied up at its dock so late
that there was no time to unload the mackerel from its hold before the
race.
The next morning, Captain Whelan and the Harry L. Belden set out
with hell-bent determination to win the Fishermen’s Race. The winds were
so fierce that crewmen had to lash themselves to their ships to keep from
being washed overboard.
The schooners were blown about like toy boats in the teeth of a gale.
Some vessels didn’t finish the race at all. But because the Harry L.
Belden’s hold was filled with fish, it had the ballast it needed to
remain steady and win the race. The 1892 Fishermen’s Race, run in
40-mile-per-hour winds, became known in Gloucester as “the race it blew.”
What’s Mine Is Mine
On September 1, 1871, Canadian authorities took Captain Harvey
Knowlton’s schooner Edward A. Horton because he had been fishing
inside the three-mile limit along the coast of Nova Scotia.
Captain Knowlton wanted his ship back, so he and six American fishermen
went to Guysboro, Nova Scotia. On Sunday, October 8, they waited until all
the windows were dark before they broke into a warehouse near the wharf,
where the ship’s rigging had been stored. They crept aboard the Edward
A. Horton with the rigging and started to put up the sails.
It was then that they discovered they had taken the wrong rigging. They
had to break into the warehouse again to get the right rigging, all
without being seen or heard.
When they finally got the sails in place, the Edward A. Horton
was still aground. At 2:30 a.m., when the tide came in enough to float her
clear, Captain Knowlton took the helm and stole his own ship.
Later that morning, Canadian authorities discovered that the ship was
missing and set off in pursuit, but the Boston Custom House and
Charlestown Navy Yard sent armed vessels to protect the Gloucester fishing
boat from recapture.
Gloucester went crazy with excitement when the Edward A. Horton
reached port on October 18. Church bells pealed, cannons boomed, people
danced in the streets. Poems and songs were written about Captain
Knowlton’s audacious act.
There is no record of the incident in official Canadian files.
More Than One Way to Catch a Fish
Totoneo Lopes fished for swordfish from the Essex-built schooner
Evelina M. Goulart in the late 1940s. He would take a dory from the
ship and row around in search of a swordfish, then harpoon the fish. The
harpoon was connected to a barrel with a length of rope. He would let the
swordfish swim at the end of that rope until it died. Lopes would then
find the floating barrel and pull his catch into the dory.
One day, however, he found a swordfish at the end of the line that was
too big for him to pull into the dory. After rowing so far and thinking
about how much money he would get for his fish, he was not going back
without it.
The determined Lopes decided to sink the dory. As the dory filled with
water, its rim neared the water’s surface. He gently pulled the swordfish
into the dory. With the swordfish safely aboard, he quickly began to bail
the water so that he could row back to the Evalina M. Goulart with
his prize. |
