Surviving three near-death experiences at sea after nearly 60 years of fishing, George Richardson Jr. of Westport Island decided to stop at age 69. “My angels were getting tired,” he said. Over his many years on the water, Richardson has fished for scallops, groundfish, shrimp, tuna, whiting, and lobster.
Richardson, recently re-elected to a sixth term on the Westport Island Board of Selectmen, came to the fishing trade at a young age.
Born in 1936 to George Richardson Sr. and Teresa Senier on Westport Island, Richardson started fishing at the age of 12, helping his father fish for sardines and herring at night in the coves around Westport Island. His father would paddle with his one good arm, having lost one in an accident, and use a flashlight to see where the fish were.
“We’d shut down the cove and trap them. There were multitudes of them in 1948. There were so many herring in the weir at low tide, they’d swirl up the mud,” said Richardson.
After attending school for radiography and telegraphy, and the Maine Maritime Academy, Richardson entered the navy for a two-year deployment. Richardson then fished with his dad again before lobstering and dragging on his own 40-foot Novy (Nova Scotia) boat.
Richardson married Martia Kelly, the girl next door, in 1959. The couple just celebrated their 53rd wedding anniversary in July. Marcia and he have five children, George, Gary, Lincoln, Corinne, and Stacey. All live in the area except for Corinne, who lives in Montana. Richardson and his wife are now grandparents seven times over.
Richardson’s first near-death experience occurred while shrimping alone in the outer Sheepscot Bay mid-February 1968 when his engine stalled around 11 p.m. “It was blowin’,” Richardson said. He managed to get the boat started again around 1 a.m., but due to poor visibility, his boat struck Damariscove Island.
According to a 1968 Downeast Magazine article written on the experience, had Richardson steered a degree or two more to the southward and his boat would have passed safely into deeper water.
Richardson stayed alive by sheer determination and survival instinct. He managed to get himself ashore the island, and fended off hypothermia and frostbite by keeping his blood moving. The Coast Guard rescued him by helicopter in the morning.
After that incident Richardson stopped fishing alone. Richardson went dragging or tuna fishing, traveling from Cape Cod to Jonesport with a crew.
The other two near-death experiences involved falling off his boat. One February, while shrimping in minus 15-20 degree weather, Richardson slipped overboard because of ice on the rail. Wearing his oilskins and boots, Richardson sank quickly, and couldn’t yell for help it, was so cold. He could barely keep his nose above water to breathe. A fisherman from another boat saved him within a few minutes, and they pulled him on board with a rope tied around his waist. Richardson had been in 34 degree water for five minutes. The worst part, he said, was that he lost the nice wool hat his wife had knit for him.
Richardson’s third close call occurred one January when he slipped on some ice in the bottom of the skiff he was paddling and fell into the water. Richardson was paddling the skiff while standing up because there weren’t any oar locks in the skiff. His oldest son George was with him at the time, and rescued him.
Richardson became interested in the health of the river and ocean when he observed a decrease in the numbers of fish. He argued at a National Marine Fisheries Service meeting that plankton feeders were not coming upriver because of overboard septic discharges.
“Chlorine is hazardous to the plankton, and so it affects the whole food chain, the herring and anadromous fish,” said Richardson.
Although initially the NMFS disagreed with him, Richardson said the federal government did eventually come up with a new rule mandating chlorine recovery before discharging into streams and rivers.
Because of his fishing experience and knowledge, Richardson notices changes in fish population and behavior from a fisherman’s perspective. For instance, in the ’80s, when trawlers started scooping up large numbers of herring, it changed the dynamics of the sea.
“It used to be that tuna would have large schools of herring to feed off of. The trawlers chased the herring into smaller pods, and because of that, the tuna had to travel farther to eat,” said Richardson. This meant that the blue fin tuna had less fat on them because they had to go farther to get herring, as the herring were being chased by trawlers, he said.
“Less fat on the fish means less money,” he said.
When the 200-mile fishing limit began in 1977, the United States kicked the Russians out of their waters, said Richardson, and the U.S. government started funding vessels. In Richardson’s view, these “non-fishermen-owned” vessels were the ruin of “real fishermen,” because they made it difficult for real fisherman to get bank loans.
“Then there were the ‘creep and nibble’ effects,” Richardson said. “They take away the rights and ability to catch certain species, then they cut back on your loan.”
In his view, a corporation can lose money because they belong to an LLC, and still support a losing business, whereas a self-employed lobsterman cannot. “It’s the divide and conquer mentality,” he said.
“The fisheries industry is in a difficult situation,” said Richardson, “There are a whole bunch of rules that are overcomplicating everything because of bureaucrats who interfere when they don’t understand.”
Richardson broached these complaints to governors Baldacci and LePage. “In today’s world, it’s so expensive to get elected, that politicians owe,” said Richardson.
When Richardson gave up fishing for good in 2005, the transition was difficult at first. “I miss the shrimp especially,” he said. He is a licensed scuba diver, and being a scuba diver gave him a different appreciation for the fish he caught. Shrimp are very beautiful when they swim, he said. “A shrimp’s body is entirely translucent when they are alive, so when you see the shrimp underwater, you can watch their organs working, he said.
Since he stopped fishing, Richardson has not gone out on a boat.
Richardson is rarely idle. While recuperating from back problems in the 1970s he built lobster traps. These days he is focused on his official duties for Westport Island. He was first elected to the board in 1965.
“I like Westport Island, and I don’t want to see it change drastically,” Richardson said. He doesn’t mind change, but he wants it to happen slowly, he said.
The same year he gave up fishing, in 2005, in his role as selectman and overseer of the poor, Richardson formed Westport Island’s Human Resource committee. According to its mission statement, the committee “is a benevolent and charitable group of volunteers offering aid, comfort and companionship to any and all residents of Westport Island, especially the aged, infirm, lonely, or persons facing personal, medical or family difficulties.” The group raises funds for a local food pantry, provides transportation for errands and appointments, and helps pay heating and power bills.
Richardson says no Westport Island residents need to file for General Assistance with the state because of the help they get from the community. He is proud of this achievement.
Another accomplishment Richardson is proud of is that he was the one who initially approached Adrien and Mary Wright to ask if the town could have rights of first refusal to their land, and the couple agreed. “Two other people wanted the property, and were a little bent out of shape when they didn’t get it,” said Richardson.
The town was sued and the case went all the way to the Maine Supreme Court, but the town won, said Richardson.
The town secured grants to purchase the land, and build a jetty. Currently the town is writing another grant to pay for a ramp and dock, said Richardson. The town also owns and rents out the house on the property, so it provides an income for the town.
The town’s Wright Committee has been working hard on preparing the site for a big celebration, planting flowers, and overseeing the landscaping. The town is also in the process of working on a Mooring Plan, he said.
“Looking ahead in the future, when we aren’t here any more, and the island is more populated, there will be public access to the water,” said Richardson.
