Grand marshals
Caribou couple shares their secrets to success
The road to a successful marriage is never without a few bumps.
For Joan and Alex Falconer that road probably also had few potholes, but this Cadillac of couples has proven that “for better or for worse” are words to live by.
Today, hopefully, the Three Brooks couple will have a smooth drive through the streets of Pictou as grand marshals of the Pictou Lobster Carnival parade.
It’s an honour bestowed upon those who have proven that with hard work, determination, and the support of loved ones – fishing can be the best job on earth.
For 50 some years, Alex fished anything he was allowed to take out of the Northumberland Strait.
At age 11, he started fishing lobster when he purchased his first licence for 25 cents.
“I used to fish lobster from a dory. I had to give my two sisters 10 cents each to help me pull my dory into Caribou Harbour because I couldn’t do it myself.”
As a young entrepreneur, he would put about 10 to 20 traps in the water and sell his lobster catch to American tourists visiting the area.
“Money was scarce and we had a big family,” he said. “I think it was two dollars a dozen. It was way better than gathering bottles. They were plentiful.”
He stepped away from fishing for a bit to work in a mine in East Hants after leaving school in Grade 11, but he returned home to it and Joan a short time later.
“I came up here to be with her,” he said, as he nods his head in Joan’s direction. She returns his words with a glance and a smile as they sit comfortably in their Three Brooks home.
From then on, it might have been Alex on the water, but he credits her with keeping the family afloat.
She taught school for 33 years “because someone had to feed my babies,” she said.
When a comment was made that he brought home the pay and she wrote out the cheques, she’s quick to correct it, saying, “I brought home the pay too.”
People in the fishing industry are at its mercy. There could be a banner year of fish, but there’s never a guarantee that the next year will be as good or as bad as the last, said Joan.
She still has slips of paper tucked away that show Alex receiving as low as 28 cents a pound for canner-size lobsters and 30 cents for markets.
The 1960s and 1970s were some of the leanest years they remember. There were times when his entire season was 3,000 pounds of lobster. In a good year, some fishermen could catch close to that amount in just one day.
“You wouldn’t believe how poor (the years) were,” she said.
Joan said the expenses that fishermen had those days were not where they are today. Boat motors were gasoline engines taken from cars, and salt herring was used for bait because they couldn’t afford to purchase anything else.
“When you were trying to sell them herring for food or whatever, the price was low, but when it came time to put it in the traps for bait, it all of a sudden became a luxury.“
Alex said he believes that if someone has five or eight good years of fishing, they could comfortably retire, but Joan said that was never an option for them.
“We were never up,” she said, but it’s obvious from another glance that she catches from the corner of her eye, that Alex doesn’t agree, so she clarifies her words. “You never got the quantity they are getting now, but the years the lobster were good, the price was the pits.”
Thankfully, lobster wasn’t the only thing Alex was fishing.
“I built a boat for herring and I was pretty good at it,” he said. “They ganged up on me and put quotas on me for the herring. I used to catch 40,000 pounds and they (Department of Fisheries) cut that to 20,000.”
Alex was never afraid to risk something to make his day better, including purchasing an expensive sounder to help find the schools of herring.
“People thought it was a microwave,” he said, adding the purchase paid off in the long run. “One day I remember, the sounder cost $5,600 and I had $5,700 worth of herring.”
Joan said she remembers Alex on land for only two months out of the year, because he had his drag in the water for scallops as late as January.
“No I never fished in January,” he said to her. “I fished New Year’s Eve and than kind of got into a little bit of a party, so I hauled it out.”
A devilish grin returns when asked to choose a favourite fishery.
“Tuna fishing,” he said, adding that it’s a rush to get out on the water and hunt for a fish strong enough to swim incredible speeds and fight for its life. “It is a battle.”
The changes they’ve both seen in the fishing industry over the years are mind boggling for them, but they still believe that good old fashioned hard work, a little frugality and, of course, a second steady pay cheque, are keys to making it a success.
“You can dig yourself into a hole pretty quick,” said Alex.
When the retired couple drive down to the Caribou wharf now, they are both amazed and impressed by its improvements, but they also see the shiny trucks and boats that they know come along with big bank payments.
“I would tell them (today’s fishermen) not to think this gravy train is going to last forever,” Joan said. “It is here now, but prepare for tomorrow. I am afraid for them. It scares me.”
A final glance tells anyone in the room that Alex knows the grand marshal honour is one that he couldn’t accept unless Joan was seated beside him.
“She worked like hell,” he said with a laugh. “But she is dead hyper anyway.”