RULE OF THE WATER

It was just standard operating procedure in Corea Harbor recently when Walter Moore Jr. broke his leg trying to get aboard his boat and the other lobstermen pitched in to help him and his family.

His wife, Phyllis, told The Ellsworth American: “When there’s a need, they all pull together. In a small fishing village, you learn a sense of community early on. It’s kind of like the rule of the water.”

Mr. Moore, 67, tried walking across the rocks at low tide in the pre-dawn darkness to board his boat. He stumbled and fell, breaking two bones in his left leg. It was the end of the season, and he had started hauling out his 800 traps. He had hauled only 40 of them.

His fellow lobstermen quickly joined forces and hauled the other 760 traps. If they hadn’t, as many as half of them – and the lobsters inside – probably would have been lost in heavy wind that were on the way.

Brian and Tommy Bridges, Brian Dinsmore, Jackie Young, Jamie Perry, Galen Plummer, and the Moores’ son, Gary all helped out. And, as usual, they are contributing part of their daily catch to support the family, in what they call “putting out a crate.”

Mr. Moore had often been on the giving end of the tradition of helping one another. He had hauled traps and contributed shares of his own catch when fellow fishermen had been injured or hospitalized for surgery.

The American quoted Corea Co-op Manager Dwight Rodgers as saying, “He’s always donated – every time we put a crate out.”

Mr. Moore faces eight weeks in a cast and then another eight weeks of recuperation, possibly with a walking cast. He told The American, “I’ve been fishing for 55 years, and this is the first time I’ve been hurt, and I hope

it’s the last.”

The Moores have 11 grandchildren, and the oldest ones, ages 14 and 16, are in apprenticeship to become lobstermen.

It’s hard work, and it’s lonely work, setting out alone or with a sternman before dawn and hauling the heavy traps for as long as 10 or 12 hours. But, as Mr. Moore said, they “like it on the water – it’s quiet and peaceful.” It is also entirely a totally independent job, with no time clocks or supervisors.

But they all know that in time of trouble their fellow lobstermen stand ready to help out by hauling traps, lending a boat, or speeding to the rescue in case of accident or fire at sea. It happens often, up and down the Maine coast.

And, curiously, according to a lobsterman’s wife, sometimes it’s the toughest, rowdiest, orneriest of them all who leads the way when help is needed.