Author Interview - Michael Wayne Santos
Questions for Caught in Irons

Q.  You are cautious not to romanticize the life of a fisherman, and yet it is unavoidable for there is something inherently romantic about a fisherman's place on the water. Is it the unavoidable romanticism which so distinguishes the fishing industry from other industries at the turn of the century and thereafter?

A.  The romanticism associated with fishermen is probably inherent to all water-borne occupations. From the mystique of the clipper ships to the appeal of the Mississippi riverboats, there's just something that draws people to the vessels, and by extension, to the men who work them. In the age of sail, the sheer beauty of the ships enhanced the romanticism. Whether it was a fishing schooner on the homeward run or a clipper ship racing to bring tea to market, the aesthetic of a ship under a full press of sail has inspired artists, novelists, and landlubbers alike. The danger of wrestling a living from the sea--the epic struggle of man against the sea--adds to the romantic appeal of maritime jobs, creating larger than life heroes out of ordinary working stiffs. Even when the vessel isn't beautiful, the mystique borne of the risk fuels the sense of romanticism. Thus the public interest in stories like The Perfect Storm or the Edmund Fitzgerald. The quaint nature of towns like Gloucester that make their living from the sea is still another factor contributing to the romantic mystique surrounding maritime occupations.

But these are images imposed on fishermen and other maritime workers by middle class observers. The reality from the fishermen's perspective is that what they do is a job-dangerous and hard to be sure, but a job nonetheless. Romanticism is easy for the shore bound observer. It's something that has little place in the rough and tumble world of the fo'c'sle. Indeed, were the fishermen's way of life so idyllic, there wouldn't have been so many of them who encouraged their children to find safer, higher-paying land-based jobs. Of course, there's a difference between captains and rank-and-file fishermen. Captains could occasionally indulge in the romanticism of the middle class because they straddled the fence between working and middle class realities. The average crewmen, on the other hand, were workers, just like laborers in other industries, and romanticism was seldom, if ever, a job requirement. This dichotomy was at the heart of the turmoil that surrounded the fishermen' s races. For the middle class that supported them, the races were the epitome of the romantic imagery that surrounded all maritime industries. For the fishermen, skippers and crew alike, they were working class sport informed by working class realities and working class values.

Q.  It is ironic to today' s concept of competition that what made the fishermen's races popular was the lack of serious attention the fishermen gave to them. Was it inevitable for that attitude to be reversed?

A.  Differences in perceptions and values between the working class and middle class go a long way towards explaining the various reactions to the races. As workers, the fishermen understood that racing had little to do with the real business of making a living. After the races were over, they'd go back to fishing and the races were at best an interesting and fun distraction &om the work-a-day routine. Certainly they were not professional athletes, even when sports writers sometimes reported on the races as if they were. The romanticism discussed in my response to the first question went a long way to making the races popular with the middle class. There was something refeshing about the no-holds-barred style of racing that the fishermen valued and that simultaneously kept the importance of competition in perspective. It harkened back to a simpler time that appealed to the middle class in an era of increased complexity and hype. Yet, as technology made sailing vessels obsolete, inevitably the fishermen's races were kept alive and perpetuated by a middle class whose only understanding of the fishermen's culture was based on romanticized caricatures. It was a short step from that to turning the races into competitive events reflective of middle class values and conducive to the boosterism and commercialism of the time.

Q.  Was the technical component of this book challenging?

A.  By technical, I assume you mean the workings of the vessels and of the fishing industry. Growing up in New England, with a grandfather who ran away to sea to join the Portuguese merchant marine when he was about ten years old, and who shared sea stories with me, I developed a love of old sailing ships early in life. When I was a child, I would read everything I could about the old clipper ships and the men who sailed them. I thought I had "outgrown" my interest in such things until the early 1990s, when I went sailing on a friend's 30-foot sloop. I was hooked. Before long I'd purchased a little six-meter sailboat, taken a Coast Guard Auxiliary class on how to sail, and read Chapman's Piloting, Seamanship and Small Boat Handling. Being an historian, naturally I also read everything I could find on maritime history. All this is by way of saying that when I got to Mystic Seaport to begin my research, I was pretty well versed in the technical aspects of sailing. The fishing industry was something else again. However, being at Mystic helped me get a firm grip on that subject. There was nothing like being able to walk the deck of the fishing schooner L.A. Dunton or to see what a bait trawl looked like and how it was used to help me understand what work was like aboard the old fishing vessels.

Q.  This book covers every aspect of the races: economic and social change, popular culture, sport, ship-building, the fishing industry, and good stories. At the outset of your research, which of these areas compelled you to write about Gloucester and its races?

A.  I was trained as a labor and social historian, but by the time I left for Mystic in 1993 for my sabbatical, I was totally enamored with maritime history. In a sense, because of where and how I grew up, learning more about the sea was sort of a personal search for my roots. When I arrived at the Seaport, I had no idea what I would study--I only knew I wanted to spend a semester learning more about maritime history. Working in the Shipyard Research Department, I was presented with several possible topics, one of which was the fishermen's races. The more I read about them, the more intrigued I was by them, then my training kicked in. I began to appreciate that the races needed to be understood in the larger context of the society in which they had taken place. That meant coming to grips with the working class dimensions of the sport and appreciating the impact of popular culture on the contests. From there developed my approach and overarching thesis.

Q.  You came across many personalities in your research for this book. With whom did you feel particularly intrigued?

A.  This is an easy one--Clayt Morrissey, captain of the 1922 American challenger Henry Ford. It's probably no coincidence that a picture of him at the wheel of the Ford graces the front of the book's dust jacket, or that I showcase his conversation with his wife during the 1922 series on the jacket flap to point out the predicament faced by fishermen in the last days of sail. As the last true fisherman to captain an American contender for the Halifax Herald Cup, Morrissey was significant for what he represented. A true fishing skipper-not a sportsman/businessman like Ben Pine-he understood the excitement, frustration, and ultimate sense of helplessness that characterized the races, and his disgust with the whole process encapsulated in microcosm what was happening to many of Gloucester's fishermen. By choosing to stay with sail, men like Morrissey had fewer and fewer options in an age of trawlers and auxiliary power. Morrissey allowed me to put a human face on the technological, economic, and social issues about which I was studying and writing.

Q.  What is now left of the Gloucester fishermen's races? Is there some remnant of the past alive today?

A.  Gloucester is as proud of its maritime heritage today as it was during the period covered by the book. There are countless waterfront festivals during the year, but three in particular keep alive some of what the fishermen's races were about. A dory rowing contest is held every year in June between fishermen from Gloucester and Lunenburg. In mid-July, the city holds its annual Seaport Festival at the Harbor Loop, adjacent to the schooner Adventure, the last of the dory trawlers to work the banks. The festival celebrates Gloucester's heritage as a seaport with exhibits, music, entertainment and the like. Lastly, and probably the closest to the old fishermen's races, around Labor Day there is a Schooner Festival which features a Mayor's Cup Race for 100 foot schooners, races for other classes of vessels, a Parade of Sail, deck tours, and public sails, among other activities.