Lobster Boat Racing

Another article to give you a sense of the area in summertime:

Off the Coast of Maine, the Time Is Right for Racing in Bulky, Plodding Boats
By MAREK FUCHS

STONINGTON, Me., July 15 — The lobstermen’s ball lasted until the early hours, and then the lobstermen mostly stumbled their way back to the shipyard, where they spent a restless night on their open boats, under a bad roll of fog.

The well-prepared managed to prop up tents on their decks, but for others bed was nothing but the hard surface of the engine covering and a blanket.

On Sunday morning, it was time to head out to sea — not in search of lobsters but for a competition that has become one of the social events along the coast here, a Kentucky Derby for the trapping set.

Lobster boats are built to be sturdy and are capable of handling pretty much anything on the open water. They are not built for speed. But several times during the summer, up and down the coast of Maine, lobstermen soup up their engines, weigh down the back of their boats and gun the vessels in races that are sanctioned by the Maine Lobster Boat Racing Association.

Jimmy Brown, a 56-year-old lobsterman from Montauk, N.Y., came up to watch the race, but he did not find it particularly practical to speed about in a lobster boat.

“You have to let the cages soak,” Mr. Brown said, “and besides, economy is more important than speed.”

Edward Shirley, 62, one of the participants in the weekend of races, thought otherwise.

“You don’t make a lot of money in this race, but it’s good people and camaraderie, and lobstermen are always in need of comrades,” said Mr. Shirley, who lives on Verona Island, Me.

This weekend’s racing took place in this fishing village on the tip of Deer Isle, an island connected to the mainland by an almost comically antiquated suspension bridge. It is populated by lobstermen and vacationers, many of them artists who came here for part of the summer long ago and never left.

The lobstermen on the island have challenging lives that include seasonal employment, early hours and grinding physical work that can shred shoulders and backs.

At stake in Sunday’s races were $4,000 to $5,000 in cash, thousands of dollars more in prizes including a bilge pump and oil, and bragging rights.

Local lobstermen had the benefit of sleeping in their own beds, which was an advantage to Andy Gove, a 77-year-old who was the heavy favorite in his race class.

Mr. Gove’s 36-foot, 900-horsepower boat is named “Uncle’s U.F.O.” — though he is not sure why.

“My wife’s brother suggested it,” Mr. Gove said, “and I didn’t have anything better, so I took it.”

Though delayed because of the fog, the races — nearly three dozen of them, divided by classes — took place on Sunday. The first was for boats 16 feet and under, with skippers 18 and younger, all the way up to a class for boats 40 feet and longer with at least 750 horsepower. There was a separate class for women. And all the classes compete in the open diesel division.

The course ran more than a mile, most of it a flat-out sprint. About 150 other vessels, from lobster boats to viewing barges, ran through man-of-war jellyfish and several seals in Stonington Harbor to watch from the best vantage point, forming a pathway for the racers.

After averaging 46.4 miles per hour against the current to win the day, Mr. Gove was crowned the overall champion. Word around the shipyard is also that Mr. Gove uses his age to lull competitors into a false sense of security, but he said after the race that his days on top might be over.

“Too old,” he said with a shrug as he was greeted with hoots, backslaps and compliments.