William H. Hart Jr. 1923 - 1987
By Lisa Hart
Dad was the fiercest blue fish fisherman I knew. It seemed like every other day he wanted to go out fishing from the Lucy Lee, a plain and simple, workhorse of an Erford Burt pleasure/fishing boat, docked at the ‘boathouse’ in Harthaven. If you didn’t want to go out fishing with Dad, you might as well find a new family to raise you. That’s how fierce he was about family fishing. So… we went, some of us begrudgingly!
Some days were great… we would catch lots of bluefish and sometimes a bass. One day I recall a sea robin flew gracefully out of the ocean and flopped very ungracefully onto the deck. Some days we came back to Harthaven “skunked”, as Dad would say. (I guess you were supposed to feel as bad as if you had been sprayed by a skunk?) Poor old Clarence the seagull, who had been waiting patiently all day, hoping for fish guts, would look at us in disgust and fly away. Yup, being ‘skunked’ was all around depressing.
But, most times we did come back with fish, due to Dad’s ability to spot diving birds from 300 miles away or an oil slick where the birds had been recently. (Well, to be honest, 300 miles is an exaggeration… it was more like 250.) When Dad wanted a rest from steering the Lucy Lee, I’d hop on that seat and try my darndest to steer towards those birds that I never did actually see. So, I pretended I saw the birds and you know…I was a kid and couldn’t steer that well anyway, so he’d take over finally, and believe it or not , we actually got to where those darn birds were diving!
I do recall one incident when Dad and I were alone out on the Lucy Lee fishing off of Wasque. The tide was going one way and the current the other and boy oh boy, that particular day it was bad out there! The Lucy Lee was being sucked backwards into huge swells that were threatening to swamp the open cockpit of the boat and sink us, in one fell swoop. Dad pushed the silver knob on the throttle fully open and the Lucy Lee basically skimmed across the tops of the swells like she was a turbo charged air boat. A better and scarier ride than any amusement park could offer you, I can tell you that! I never ever, ever, ever, wanted to go fishing off of Wasque again. Needless to say, I lost my lunch that day.
Memories of Harthaven.
By Lisa Hart
The boathouse dock in Harthaven was a great place to hang out as a kid. I remember catching everything from dogfish sharks to eels and crabs from that dock. Ate all three of them. I learned how to tie certain nautical knots on those pilings. I learned the way to help a boat dock. I got splinters from that dock. I learned about sure footedness and balance at a young age. Our dock had a mascot seagull named Clarence, who we befriended. I had my first education in fish anatomy on that dock. Later, I attended my first cousin Genny Abbott’s wedding on that dock. I can’t imagine how many experiences I would have missed if that harbor had not been a part of my life. It provided us with a safe place to grow up and experience the ocean and sea life on our own terms. We could become as intimate as we dared with all things associated with the water and the natural lands of Harthaven harbor. I believe that’s the most precious gift Harthaven harbor gave me. That being, the close relationship and respect I developed with the ocean, the harbor and it’s creatures. Thank you Harthaven! (My only regret about childhood Harthaven days was missing a relationship with my father’s parents, Lucy Upham Hart, who was residing at the boathouse at the time, but was incapacitated with multiple sclerosis and my grandfather William (Pop) Hart, who died when I was 2.
