“Moderation doesn’t run in the Wheeler blood,” I recently said to a family friend. I don’t remember the exact context of the statement, but I was probably justifying some unorthodox behavior or general occurrence that often comes with spending time with the fishermen part of my family, which is to say, most of us most of the time.

For fishermen, there isn't much room for moderation or doing anything half-assed; when you're out there working, living on the edge, you are all in. If you’re not paying attention to your surroundings and countless other dangers, the difference can mean life or death. So it’s no wonder intensity, enthusiasm, passion, adrenaline-chasing, all-or-nothing approach run through their veins and pervade other aspects of their lives.
Last Autumn, my older brother Luke, an experienced captain and fisherman in his own right, decided to dock the 45-foot gillnet boat that he’s owned and run for over 25 years due to record-low pandemic-induced fish prices and trade it for record-high lobster prices fishing for Little Bay Lobster, the largest Homarus americanus harvesters in the world. (Before anyone gets too turnt, note that these high prices also coincide with their lowest catches and the slowest part of the season).
Fishing 100-200 miles offshore for 10-14 days per trip, home for 3 or 4, only to head back to sea. There is barely enough time for re-entry into a world that isn’t surrounded by sea, the same crew members, and where certain societal norms take little to no precedence.
Luke brings along a text-only, expensive-to-use satellite phone to keep in touch with Olivia, his teenage daughter, Maria, his partner of nearly 20 years, and for emergency contact. Regardless of some freedom to connect, when a childhood friend’s father (not much older than our own) recently passed away, I debated whether texting him the bad news was the right thing to do. The last thing I wanted was for him to feel more distant, disconnected, and helpless. (Turns out I did tell him, and our friend deeply appreciated Luke’s text from offshore). Inevitably, there will be milestones, birthdays, dinner parties, celebrations, anniversaries, funerals missed, and loose ends always left untied.
I hadn’t seen Luke in a few months, and I picked him up from this last trip. Aside from looking a little rough and tumble but healthy and strong, I got the impression that when one’s life is lived substantially at sea, when one is on dry land, especially for such a short stay, there is an urgency to make up for lost time: Do all the things, see all the people, drink all the beer. (And for all intents and purposes of writing this piece, I intended to ask all the questions, which turned into occupying a lot of his precious but well-spent time over the next few days: lunch at Moby Dick's, fishing-related errands around the Whaling City, a morning walk followed by Yoga in his living room, and a family dinner of redfish tacos Maria cooked and he caught).
I’ve heard that being offshore for an extended period can feel like jail (no escape), but essentially it’s a wilderness, defined as an uncultivated, uninhabited, and inhospitable region. Yet, on top of no cell service, no social media, and no everyday conveniences and connections most of us take for granted, my brother insists that he loves it.
*" Mug Up” is a term we use to describe a coffee break, a time to take a short rest amongst the crew, catch up and share stories.
In interview style, the following are his answers to questions I asked and tidbits of our conversation.
Best advice or quote: “Keep your words sweet because you never know when you’ll have to eat them,” Also, “Take it easy but keep taking it.”
Favorites:
Podcast: Hardcore History with Dan Carlin
Show: HBO's Rome
Songs: Whitehouse Road by Tyler Childers and Troopers Hollar by Hank Williams III.
Everyday Gear (#everydaycarry) on the boat:
fid and hammer: (used to untie and break knots that have tightened under strain and prevent unnecessary cutting of those knots).
Knife Belt with a serrated knife (a serrated knife will cut through a fouled-up line in an emergency better than a straight edge knife).
When you’re not on the boat, we will find you: Skateboarding, the boxing gym, birding.
If you weren’t a fisherman: I’d probably do something like industrial design or marine architecture; I like the idea of designing things to make them more efficient.
Something no one would know about you: Sometimes I cry during Star Trek episodes. There are heartwarming moments in many of them.
If you could sit down with anyone, dead or alive, who would it be: Bella. [Bella was Luke’s dog: one-of-a-kind and the family's first baby. She went everywhere and did everything with Luke, including fishing. Unfortunately, she passed away in May 2014].
Favorite childhood memories: Catching snapper blues off the dock and hanging out at Sakonnet Point. Seining for Minnows at our childhood beach under the Mount Hope Bridge. “Racing” squid on the conveyor belt.
Did you always know you were going to “grow up” to be a fisherman?: Though I grew up around it and my first job in Middle School was for a quahoger, later banding lobsters and eventually lobstering on my own in a skiff through high school, the real turning point wasn’t until college. I was attending Maine Maritime Academy and assumed after graduating, I’d ship out like everyone else but while at home during Thanksgiving break I filled in on an offshore fishing trip and I not only did I love being out there, I made a killing. And that was it, I knew this is what wanted to do.
Favorites:
Local restaurant for seafood: Sea Shai
Fish to cook: Monkfish cheeks skewered cooked on the grill with salt and pepper
Fish everyone should try: John Dory
Square Meal on the boat: We always start and end the trip with a good steak.
“Last Meal” (if you knew it would be the last meal you’d ever have): [The inappropriate, not-the-answer I was looking for]: P*ssy. Oh, and Lobster Casserole.
Splices: to join or connect (a rope or ropes) by interweaving the strands.
(This is where I interweave my unsolicited recommendations, maybe or maybe not connected to the current newsletter, of something I’ve heard, read, or enjoyed and want to share).
Book: Mayflower by Nathaniel Philbrick. I’m rereading this through the Libby App (audio version and free from my local library!) Especially if you are from New England, recognizing and even staring at the places where these events took place makes it even more fascinating.
Movie: CODA. It’s got everything: beautiful New England scenery, fishing (I might be biased here), great music, heartfelt family drama, and comedy. It’s the feel-good movie that we could all use, plus it won a bunch of awards, so I’m not the only one who loved it.
Show: Better Things
Visit: The New Bedford Whaling Museum (goes well with Luke’s book recommendation).
Follow: @filipinosteel on Instagram recently posted some educational, eye-opening, and well-written accounts and the reality of being an offshore lobsterman.
Quote: “ The more experience a person has with nature, the stronger the pull toward it.” -Stephen Kaplan
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I LOVED this Corey !!! I laughed and I cried. Our sweet Bella is my favorite part.