A Lobsterman Charts a New Course in Life

Parnell boat - Photo provided by Nancy Parnell

Note from Barbara: I am on hiatus from Still Blooming as I teach a course in May and June. My friend Nancy Parnell has generously agreed to pinch hit for me this week. Later this year, some of my blog posts will be about the transition to retirement, which I consider more entering a new stage of life than the concluding a profession or a career. Our work shapes each of our lives differently and this transition to a new chapter in life can also be distinctive. Nancy gives us a glimpse of charting a new course after a lifetime of commercial lobstering.

By guest blogger Nancy Parnell

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines retirement as "to withdraw from one's position or occupation: conclude one's working or professional career." Earning one's living from harvesting the fruits of the sea is more than a job, career or profession; it is a manifestation of one's inner nature. One does not retire from this way of life but enters into a new phase in her/his relationship with the ocean.

My husband, Ron, was a commercial lobsterman. It was his way to earn an income while doing something he loved. Because lobstering is dependent on the weather, our lives, Ron's and mine as well as those of our family, were governed by Mother Nature as ocean tides, winds and seasonal weather determined his ability on any day to "go out" or "stay in" and our plans were adjusted accordingly. Family vacations were always taken the week of school vacation in February when we travelled to Maine to enjoy our snowmobiles and the company of friends. In summer, lobstering involved the whole family and provided great experiences for our children and grandchildren as they earned money working with Dad/Papa on the boat. Family and friends have wonderful memories of days spent on the boat enjoying eating lobsters fresh out of the water, whale watching, fishing or just being out on the water. It was our life and life was good!

The decision to give up lobstering as a full-time commitment was a difficult one for Ron and made over several years. Each year he would say, "I'll give it one more year." This year, the strenuous activity that lobstering demands became too much for him - now a man of eighty-four years of age and he finally admitted it was time for him to let go of that phase of his life. Letting go involved negotiating the sale of his commercial lobster business: his State lobster permit, 30' lobster boat, lobster pots, ropes, buoys and a myriad of boat related items he had acquired over the years.

It is a bittersweet time for Ron. Sad to see the end of the lifestyle he had come to love yet happy to see the lobster business continue on with a new and capable Captain at the helm. For the family, it is also sad to see this lifestyle come to an end yet happy to see an easier life for Ron.

Ron didn't retire from lobstering; he didn't "withdraw from (his) position or occupation" as described in Merriam -Webster's dictionary. He simply steered his life onto a new course and applied for a seasonal lobster license which will enable him to set ten pots during the summer and is looking for a new and smaller boat in order to continue enjoying being on the ocean. Ron will continue being a lobsterman. It's his inner nature. As a fellow lobsterman once stated, "It's not what we do; it's who we are."

Response from Kathy Hendricks

Thank you for such rich insights into retirement, Nancy. It resonates at many levels with those of us who don’t regard retirement as a “withdrawal” as much as “steering in a new direction.” You framed it beautifully when you described how lobstering is more than a job, but a way of life and a calling that comes from within. As such, it speaks to the true meaning of a vocation. My favorite book on this topic is Parker Palmer’s Let Your Life Speak. As a Quaker, Palmer knows the value of listening to one’s inner voice and allowing that to be the guiding movement in our lives and our work. He writes, “Before I can tell my life what I want to do with it, I must listen to my life telling me who I am.” The way your husband listened over a period of life to where his life must now lead is a striking example of how that process continues to move us well beyond the initial calling. How wonderful to read how Ron is now lobstering in a new way. It reminds me of advice I received from my husband’s Aunt Julia many years ago: “Continue to do what you love. Just do it slower.”