A Step Back In Time

Island friends: "the finest kind"

his story starts in the summer of 1941. It was the first summer that I was spending only weekends on the island. My father and I were taking the last Friday trip over on the Lizzy Ann and going back on the last Sunday trip.

In August I was on vacation for the week. After supper my sister Mary and I decided to go to the show. We parked the car alongside the Harbor Baptist Church on Chapel Street (destroyed by fire in 1944), then walked to the theater, where there was a crowd waiting to get into the show. Some of the people looked different ? they had extremely tanned faces up to their hat lines and white above that. Most of them were fishermen.

I saw Stanley Stinson and his wife Agnes and asked Stanley when he was going swordfishing offshore. The next morning, he said, and if I showed up around 8 a.m. I might be able to go.

When I arrived the Stanley was tied up to the dock, waiting to ice up its two holds. On deck was Capt. Gene Stinson, his son Stanley, and crew member Sherman Dodge. Capt. Gene said I could go so I put my bag below, slipped into a pair of boots and helped get the ice into the holds. We shoved off around 9:30 a.m. I knew that I wouldn?t get a share, which was all right with me as I just wanted to make another trip offshore, swordfishing.

The Stanley was 44 feet long with a high mast and top mast on her. The mast was rigged to ride four men aloft. Stanley rode the ball. For this trip Sherm and I rode the upper crosstree. Capt. Gene also rode the mast, but on occasion he would stay out on the end of the pulpit. Most every night after everything was shipshape we would spend some time playing cribbage then have a mug up before we turned in. This trip lasted six days.

When we arrived back home we had 29 swordfish in the hold; one day we boated 11 fish.

During the trip I was talking to Sherm and he said, "If ever you want to come to the island in the off season, you can stay at my house." Sherm was the first islander to extend me this courtesy and we became lifelong friends. To say the least, I was flattered.

As Columbus Day weekend approached, I decided to call Sherman and ask him if it would be okay to visit. The phone rang four or five times, to no avail, and then the Block Island operator got on the line and asked me who I wanted to speak to. Sherman Dodge, I answered, and he said, "Wait a minute, I think I know were he is visiting." The next voice I heard was Sherm?s. I asked him if it would be all right to visit him for the weekend and he said "fine with me." From that day on, whenever I called the island I would ask for the Block Island operator, who was Henry Dodge, and ask him to hook me up with Sherm. That was fine until they changed the system. Ho - hum, progress I guess.

When I arrived, Frances greeted me and asked if I would like a tuna fish sandwich. Upon finishing the sandwich, I told her how different it tasted. She informed me that she had canned it herself. It sure beat commercial canned tuna.

They had a large garden and it was not uncommon to see Frances, her sister Hannah and her daughter Barbara canning the produce, then storing it in the cellar.

Sherm arrived home from cod fishing and we went into the parlor and were joined by Willis and Barbara. After catching up on this and that, it was soon supper time. To this day I can remember what we had for supper, as it was the first time I had codfish cheeks and tongues. And yes, I did have two helpings of them.

The next day was Sunday and the wind had picked up so Sherm stayed home and we played cribbage and had a nice time reminiscing. Monday morning I walked Sherm down to the dock, and hung around for a while, then walked up to the City Drug and sat on the top step. Soon a car came by. Don?t ask me why, but I decided to sit there until the next car came by. It was 40 minutes later that Matt Moran came by in his truck with his ever-present cigar in his mouth.

In October of 1942, I joined the U.S. Coast Guard. After boot camp I was stationed at West Quoddy Head Coast Guard Station, in Maine on the Canadian border. While stationed there I became engaged to my wife, Gladys. When I came home on leave I called Sherm and asked him if it was all right to visit and to bring my girlfriend over, as I wanted her to meet Sherm and Frances. The answer was yes.

We took the Lizzy Ann out of Galilee, and when it came time for Sherm to come in from fishing, I went down to the harbor to meet him. At this time I would be remiss if I didn?t tell you that Sherm liked to stir things up. He told me that we were going to have some cod fish cheeks and tongues for supper. I told him that my girlfriend was a city girl and suggested that if she asked what kind of fish we were having for supper, just tell her chunks of codfish.

Now at the table, Sherm, Barbara, Willis, Frances, Gladys and myself were enjoying supper. Then Sherm couldn?t contain himself any longer and he asked Gladys how she liked the fish. She answered "fine," then he proceeded to tell her what she was eating. (Sherm liked to tease women, but in a kind way.) After supper we all had clean plates except one.

When we were through with supper, and after a few hands of "crib," we went into the living room and Sherm told about some of his fishing trips. Through the many years that I knew Sherm, and heard him reminisce about these fishing trips, it was remarkable to me how he contained all the details of these many trips.

Soon it was bedtime, and we were assigned bedrooms upstairs. The next morning Gladys told me that someone short-sheeted her bed. Knowing that she would be asked how she had slept, I told her to say "just fine." Sure enough, Sherm asked her and her reply was "just fine."

The next day we went home and I went back to my station. I didn?t see Sherm or Frances again until after the war. Now that I was married and had family obligations, I was coming to the island four or five times a year. Each time I would visit Sherm and his family I always felt a closeness to this island family.

I am now in my 80th year and I am glad that Sherm and Frances were in my life. As I close this story with teary eyes, I will say to you that they were the "finest kind."