A Fisherman’s Life – A retired commercial fisherman reminisces about seven decades on the water.
After a lifelong career as a commercial fisherman, Capt. Bob Smith has swallowed the anchor and is on the beach, firmly aground. As self-imposed as his retirement may be, it doesn’t make the shift any easier for the plain-spoken Smith, who has been wresting a living from southern New England waters for 76 of his 88 years. “Look at my hands,” says Smith, holding them out as if there is something wrong with them. “There are no blisters. No cuts.” Smooth and 
unblemished, the hands strike him as those of a stranger. Smith misses the tough, calloused mitts that belonged to the working fisherman. Smith loved salt ponds, the sea and the life of a fisherman. He could mend twine, splice wire, work a pair of tongs, bullrake quahogs, harpoon swordfish and run a dragger day after day, season after season. In addition to groundfish, lobster and clams, the waterman at one time harvested and sold mummies, fiddler crabs, eels, bay scallops and wrack weed, for which he received $1 a bushel. His mind remains sharp with names, dates, figures. It’s his body that is giving out. Photos, more, >>CLICK TO READ<< 10:55
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