THE PIRATES

by Timothy J. Muise

I grew up on the waterfront of Gloucester. My childhood home was
150 yards from the state fish pier and as soon as I was old enough
to walk down there I spent entire days watching boats unload their
catch, stood in awe as leather-hand men made nets as big as a parking
lots, and investigated the many fish processing "stalls" where much
of the catch was cut by hand. I witnessed 200 ten foot long, 900lb plus
swordfish layed out on pallets. Forklifts strained picking these monsters
up.

My brother Bobby ws a commercial lobsterman, but that was not the
only type of fishing we ventured into. I tub trawled (like they did in
the 1800's) with him, gillnetted, jigged for cod, and fished fourteen
giant Atlantic bluefin tuna seasons with him. We caught some real giants
together and had some great times. It was an education that always served
me well. Winters on the North Atlantic, lobstering and gillnetting, tell
you a lot about yourself.

As fish prices declined and my brother was forced to stick to full-
time lobstering (except for the short tuna season) I was forced to take
a job on shore. My first days on the docks of Gloucester Harbor were
spent as a "culler", or someone who sorts the cargo that was offloaded
from "steamers" (they still called cargo ships steamers when I was a young
man even though it has been a long time since they were steamed powered).
I eventually became a longshoreman and got to work next to my father, who
I adored, unloading cargo from all over the world. I had some "people"
skills that engraciated me to the owner of the company and he eventually
hired me to be his foreman, and I had a bunch of cullers working for me,
but from time to time I always climbed down into the hold of the ship
and helped my father fill his "rack" with boxes.

One of my other duties was to tie up these steamers when they came
to port. It was anything but difficult. The crew would throw a thin
"monkey line" with a weight on it to me on shore. I would pull that line
in as it had the "hauser" (or large line) attached to it. I threw that
line over a cleat, bow and stern, and I was done. The ship's crew did the
rest. One morning the ship Jokufel II from Iceland was scheduled to
arrive at the Rowe Square dock at 6:am. I was there waiting to receive
the lines about 5:45AM, but the boat was a little late. As it was
scheduled to begin unloading at 7:AM longshoreman started showing up
around 6:40. The boat was in the inner harbor, about two hundred yards
away, when I noticed four inflatable rafts speeding at a high rate across
the mirror flat harbor toward the ship. I thought at first that it was
a Coast Guard training exercies, but I soon found out it was not.

These rigid bottom rafts, with high horsepower outboard motors, pulled
along both the starboard and port sides of the Jokulfel. Ladders appeared
running up to the gunnell of the boat and men, and women, started ascending
the ladders. As a young man I did some rock climbing so I knew that the
harnasses they were wearing were Swiss Seats and that the gear hanging
from their waists were climbling ropes and carabiners. What the heck were
they up to? Who were they? I would soon have the answers.

With lightening speed these "pirates" stormed the rigging, ships
gear, and superstructure of the ship. With laser quickness they shot
lines to each other and secured them across the wide spans between the
cargo holds. The next thing I knew two huge banners, the size of billboards,

THE PIRATES
Page 2. Timothy J. Muise

were strung up between the ship's gear and over the cargo holds. One
proclaimed, "Boycott Iceland Seafood!", while the other declared,
"Ice land Kills Whales!" At the bottom of both banners it said,
"GREENPEACE" with a dove logo. The pirates were members of Greenpeace
and they were acting as Privateers protecting the whales.

As the ship moved even closer, the harbor pilot at the helm of
the Jokulfel never ceased his direct route to docking, I could now
see that the pirates, about a dozen in all, were shackling and hand-
cuffing themselves to the ship. Some were 40 feet up in the rigging.
These people were serious about stopping the unloading of this ship.
There was no whale meat on board, it was illegal to sell whale meat to
the United States, but there were dozens of tractor-trailer 18 wheelers
waiting to transport this cargo across the country, mostly cod, haddock,
and shrimp, as well as 30 longshoreman looking to earn the approximately
$300.00 one day of work on this ship would generate. The immovable force
of Greenpeace was about to meet the unstoppable movement of capitalism.
The pirates wanted to stop the unloading and the longshoreman were not
going to let that happen.

The shipped docked, I did my job with the lines, and many wondered
what to do. Many longshoreman were also fireman and some police. The
assistant fire chief called for the hook and ladder. They put the ladder
right up to a "pirate" and two cops would climb up. I'm sad to report that
in my youthful zeal, and capitalistic desire to earn a buck, I cheereed as
they directed small punches into the ribs and back of the Greenpeace folks
to get them to lossen up. They undid the shackles with handcuff keys and
roughly escorted each activist into a waiting police car. It took a little
over an hour to get all the pirates off the boat and get underway with the
offload. It was the talk of the day, week, and month.

Today I regret that I did not stick up for the pirates. They were
right, Iceland was killing whales. I should have stopped those cops from
hurting them, and I could have, but I was young and misguided. I write
this story today to honor those activists. They were the tough guyes, and
gals, and if I had to to do over again I would sail with them!

by Timothy J. Muise
MCI Shirley
P.O. Box 1218
Shirley, MA
01464-1218