Without exaggeration the latest boat project, for us, has been at least 11 years in the making. My husband has been studying, shopping for, and viewing fishing vessels (F/V) for at least 11 years. He has searched from Nova Scotia to Newfoundland and down the East Coast.......All while we have been creating a family, making a living, getting through Foster Care licensing, adoption, and a few moves.....Am. I. Glad. It. Is. Over????? Hell yes! The transformation of F/V Charlie III has literally felt like having a sister wife! At least she has finally started making money and is not just spending it all!

I wish that the story of her history were one of profit, harmony, and smooth sailing, but that is not the case. There is no doubt that this boat was designed to be seaworthy. Fortunately, her tragedy didn't occur on the water! This boat was a vision. A vision a father had for his son.

My husband spotted this boat on Craigslist, while we were living on Isle au Haut (a remote island 6 miles off the coast of Maine). The boat was located in Scituate, Massachusetts about six hours away. In the time between finding the listing and the time we got the boat to Isle au Haut there were around six trips to and from Scituate. This included a round trip steam, by boat. The return trip had our new vessel in tow as she was not ready to run on her own power. During that time my husband got to know the previous owner and learned much about his connection to the boat.

I have to be honest....the first time I saw the boat it was sitting on boat stands in an impound lot....I was in awe as I pulled up and saw just how big this vessel was. Then...I boarded the boat. I could have killed my husband. This poor boat had been neglected for a long time. Everything was rotten and punky. Holy Mother what the F*&* was he thinking?? That is what went through my mind. He saw something I didn't. He knew he had found a great deal. He knew there was much to be done, and true to form, he has stayed the course.

At first, the conversations with the owner could be less than friendly at times. He was quick to get heated and it made the boat all the more rotten to me. As we came to know more about the owner's relationship with the vessel it became very clear why he had such a hard time dealing with the boat.

This was his vision for his young son. He had a plan to get this boat fishing for his son, to set him off on the path to success. To cheer him on and teach him the way, something that most Captains hold in the very fiber of their being. This young son was also a father. He had started the next generation for their family..........The vision that was held for the future of the vessel, the future of father and son all came to an end. That young man was killed in a car accident. His little one was left without a father. His father was left with a hole in his heart...and there was the boat, a constant reminder of the what would never be.

The boat sat in that parking lot for about six years. Six years of reminding everyone what they had lost.

For all of the tension that this boat has brought between my husband and I, I pray that we will never know the pain that this boat symbolized for her previous family. I pray that now that our vessel is ship shape and has new life breathed into her that somehow there is healing for her other family. Once she is painted in the spring we have plans to make that trip to Scituate once again, this time under her own power. I think seeing the boat in a fresh condition may provide a release of emotions that will hopefully bring even just a tiny bit of comfort to the sadness left by that broken vision.

We have four sons, and a daughter that may just out-fish them!! So, in honor of our children, and with the intention of setting a new course, we have opted to rename our vessel. F/V Charlie III has shed her old skin and transformed into F/V Troublemakers! Trust me, the name fits!

Blessings to you!

Thanks for reading,

Island Momma

One of my sisters (I actually am not sure how many siblings I have, but that is a story for another day...), has made some life choices that have raked her over the coals. She has also been thrown some terrible hurdles. She has struggled an ongoing battle with alcohol, finding every Mr. Wrong who can't keep his hands to himself, and experiencing not one, but two still births. Through all of it, our relationship has been rocky to say the least, but we are sisters, and in our own dysfunctional way, we are best friends. I wish she loved herself as much as I love her. I think sometimes she may think my life is perfect, and I have got it all figured out.....Lately, that has been SO far from the truth. In all honesty I have nothing to complain about. I live in my own version of Paradise. I have a husband that loves me despite my difficult, stubborn, strong willed personality. I have five healthy, amazing, perfectly naughty kids. We have a stable life. We eat well. We know LOVE.

Here is the thing though. It is all relative. No matter what is happening on the outside, we all have our own battles on the inside. Our life experiences have led us to certain thought patterns, and we can be our own worst enemies. Lately, for me, I am driving myself nuts. I haven't been able to pull my thoughts together enough to even write a decent post.

You see, I have recently returned to my childhood home, my childhood neighborhood, my old stomping grounds, after 12 years living away. This is truly fantastic, a dream come true. Here is the thing though.....ALL of the ghosts from the past are creeping up on me. In this small community everyone knows everyone. We are a "drinking village with a fishing problem". As a community we have experienced much loss together. On my street alone we have lost three friends over the years. So, now that I am back, all of the familiarity is stirring up old memories, and I am processing these losses all over again in a sea of emotions.

Another challenge with all these memories of my youth.....is, well....memories of my youth. Memories made by a young, wild, free, independent island girl (not to be confused with any other young girl, because island girls are FAR more wild). That girl had far less responsibility. She had no children, chickens, or businesses to run.....And, she knew how to party.

Well, here I am, all grown up, being haunted by my past, being stalked by the voice of a younger me. All right in the middle of a really intense boat project. A boat project that is a financial strain. A boat project that leaves me with even less of my fisherman's time. A boat project that leaves me out numbered by little people for even more hours per day.

So, the more responsible, older me, is trying to figure out how to bring back some of the younger, wilder, more fun me......in some way that is congruent with raising five kids and building a business. I don't just want to be a mom. I don't just want to be a supportive fisherman's wife. Because, the truth is, even on a good day, my soul is being smothered.

The point of all of this rambling is this: today I ran away for a little while. I called my sister, and she said, "the birds are chirping." I called my sister, and she said, "I have softball practice." So, I ran away from home. I ran away from tension building between me and my husband. I ran away from being a mom. And.....I went all the way to watch my sister practice softball. I had time to breathe. I had time to think. I had time to sort it all out.

I came home with a new perspective. I came home knowing that I need to take a time out more often. I came home knowing that I am SUPER proud of my sister for getting back to her love of softball. She was right the birds were chirping.

Blessings to you.

Thanks for reading,

Island Momma