I had an interesting but scary experience this summer. The day started just like all my work days: get up at 4: 00 a.m., eat breakfast, and go haul my lobster traps.

By 5: 00 I was on my boat, leaving the harbor. The sun was just rising over Cadillac Mountain and I remember thinking what a beautiful day it was going to be. I reached my first string of traps in about 15 minutes and hauled them. They looked pretty grim, so I decided to move the next 25 traps, which were only a few yards away. It took me a good hour and a half, but I managed to stack all 25 in the stern (something I should not have done). By now it was around 7: 00 and the wind was starting to pick up, and so were the size of the chops on the water.

The place I was planning to move the traps was no more than half a mile away. As I eased on the throttle, I noticed the traps were starting to move and jiggle around. I really did not think much of it and focused my attention on my destination.

The next thing I remember is this

terrible jerk that started at my leg and progressed through my body. The unthinkable had happened. I had lost a trap off the stern, and the rope attached to it was tangled around my boot. My next reaction was not a result of thinking. Luckily, it was instinctual. I immediately reached out and before the trap could pull me overboard, I pulled back on the throttle. This reduced the boat speed and took tension off the rope.

This experience taught me a very valuable lesson - not to push the limits of the ocean. It also gave me a greater respect for the sea. c