Page 22. MAINE COASTAL NEWS July 2011


Maritime History By Amos Boyd


The rum-running days were before my time, and although some people “clam up” when the subject is mentioned, others have shared with me their memories and the stories they have been told. These stories of Prohibi- tion days are usually rich with humor as they had to be to stand the test of time, since Downeasters appreciate a good story well told. However, a rich background in local history is often essential to get the point. Many Downeasters are independent people who have had to be inventive and resourceful and “make do” in order to sur- vive, and do not take kindly to orders, or laws they consider unreasonable or inappropri- ate. When the Volstead Act (better known as Prohibition) went into effect on January 16, 1920, Downeasters were shocked to learn its restrictive details and many men (and women) immediately began to figure ways to avoid following such unreasonable laws. Many men (and women) considered the choice of drinking or not drinking to be one of the inalienable rights. An old lady confined to a wheelchair, was so irritated by the new law that she pounded her can on the floor shouting “It’s none of the government’s damned business if I drink, what I drink, or where I drink it.”


The new law even irritated non-drinkers, many of whom were stubborn independent thinkers, who resented being told what to do or what not to do. Even non-drinkers wanted alcoholic beverages available in case they changed their minds and became drinkers. Basically, the Volstead Act had been created to curb the excesses of drink. There had been many temperance movements in the State of Maine through the years, although rum had been an important and profitable element of trade with the West Indies. Men made fortunes importing rum; they and their wives and families lived well on the profits. When husbands drank too much and be- haved accordingly, their wives, who had


THE DARK SIDE OF RUN-RUNNING


enjoyed all the luxuries provided by the rum trade, began temperance movements, and later, many became ardent prohibitionists and loud critics of the demon rum. At that time there was no government aid or “relief” for the families of alcoholics. When a man’s wage went for the drink he could not do without, their wives and children had no food or warm or warm clothing or fuel for their homes during the bitter winters. In rare sober moments when these men could see what was happening to their wives and families, some men blamed everyone but themselves, while others felt guilt, and became abusive to their wives and children.


During the earliest day of settlement, even the most desperately hard work was not always enough to provide the most basic necessities of food, shelter or safety from wild animals and rampaging Indian tribes. It was then that strong drink could give a work- man the courage and strength to continue against all odds. Even a few sips from a “little brown jug” inspired more than song – it made possible the help of many volunteers who worked like beavers to raise churches and other public buildings, houses, and barns. There are many ways of looking at the issue. The United States government, in try- ing to correct abuses of drinking, created the monster of Prohibition and brought about a period of lawlessness and violence with gangsters, speakeasies and crime, particu- larly among large population groups. No one today can possibly judge the amount of violence in Washington County during the days of rum-running; much is hidden because of law enforcement officials were sometimes involved and it was fre- quently rumored that the real “boss” of it all was untouchable as a highly placed “respect- able” and wealthy government official. Gun fights and murders did occur in this county but local newspapers were cagey, even if accounts were printed. In one case known local schooner was wrecked and went


ashore; bodies of local men and bottles were strewn along the beach, but no word of the wreck, or the names of those who died was mentioned in local newspapers.


Many humorous rum running stories have survived throughout the years. The violence, cruelty, and tragedy of that era is rarely mentioned, except secretly, among trusted friends and in hushed and lowered voices. Violence was rare in Washington County however. Carrying guns was frowned upon by rum bosses in this area, who reasoned that men who carried guns would sooner or later use them. This area was thinly populated, everyone knew or knew about, everyone else by name or reputation. Com- munication from town to town was some- times made with lightning-like speed, like lightning-like speed always open, and with lightning-like speed kept, with lightning-like speed, open from town to town across towns, and a stranger criticizing. Some families kept track of family relationships back many gen- erations and a loud mouth stranger full of criticism of local conditions in one town stranger who criticized a man in one town might greatly irritate relatives fifty miles away, everyone else, or were distantly re- lated, it was possible to start a kind of a “Hatfield and McCoy” type of feud. Any shooting would create unwelcome publicity and interfere with liquor sales and profits. In spite of everything some men did carry guns, and in the melee when one group of rum-runners raided another’s cache, shots were fired; two men were killed and one was wounded. Taking the wounded man to a hospital, would have brought the law and complications, so the car carrying him, never slowed until it was out of the state. Retribu- tion was expected, and when word came that friends of the dead men were back in the county, the man who shot them tried to es- cape in a canoe into the many streams con- necting with Indian Lake; he and his compan- ion were never seen again.


Liquor distillers and distributors had not expected the Vilstead Act to pass and were caught with their liquor supplies low. The Act had taken effect in January after Christmas and New Years celebrations had passed, and had not planned on replenishing liquor sup- plies until needed shortly before Saint Patrick’s Day. Downeast was one of the first areas to suffer from the drought; what liquor was left was sent to best paying customers in cities like Bangor, Portland, and the state capital in Augusta.


The Canadians, and many Europeans regarded the Prohibition law in the United States, as something close to insanity, and had great sympathy for thirsty Americans, and in time found ways to profit from the situation. The international border between the United States and Canada is also the border between Washington County and the Canadian Maritime provinces, and many Washington County residents had only a short walk or ride by car or boat to cross the border to quench their thirst, returning happy, with flushed faces and unsteady legs. Soon imports of Canadian liquors only tricked into Washington County and into Maine, but in time increased to a flood, com- ing in both by land and by sea. Large British and French ship filled with liquor and in wines anchored off U. S. territorial waters. In some mysterious fashion their bottled goods found there was ashore into “hides” until safe transportation was available elsewhere. Local liquor production was limited, al- though bathtub gin was popular, hidden stills puffed and steamed, but their product was not as popular as the imported stuff. Some rum sellers carefully copied foreign labels and applied them to their own bottle goods. The increased profit was worth the trouble, and few could tell the difference but there was always a possibility of getting bad liquor, which could be fatal.


Continued on Page 23. SEVENTIES MEMORIES - PART III By Lee S. Wilbur


By the early seventies there still re- mained a great deal of skepticism concerning the strength of fiberglass. One of the Fernald boys from Islesford came back to Jarvis Newman’s shop with a test piece. He’d taken a high powered rifle, placed the piece some distance away and shot at it. Bullet had not penetrated completely but had managed to delaminate the test block to a good degree. He agreed that fiberglass probably could with- stand a lot more punishment than wood. Jarvis gave out several test pieces in those early years. Guys would take one, put it between two saw horses and proceed to jump on it, as noon in their right mind would do with a wooden board of that thickness. Or, they would pile on cinder blocks, or any available weight to see what would happen. Course, the first hulls out of the moulds were often way overbuilt with a few extra layers rolled on for good measure. The old Maine adage of “If a one inch board will do make it two inches” still held true. It was difficult in the beginning to convince a fisherman who puts his life in the hands of his boat to make a change. When fishermen of the Seventies De- cade began to realize the strength of fiber- glass over wood, another revelation came to light. Leaving a wooden boat on a mooring all winter, especially with the extremely low tem- peratures we were experiencing could be a dicey situation. Ice forming in anchorages was the cause of many sinkings as it could cut through planking, or open a seam, taking the vessel quickly to bottom. Now, there would


be only wear from ice. Ice might build up but would have no way to penetrate. Fishermen wouldn’t feel compelled to take their boats out of the water during winter months and would have year round opportunity to fish. With the stronger and increasingly larger hulls came the need for a new breed of engines and these engines had to be diesel. Needed diesel for several reasons. They were stronger, could be taken to a much higher level of horsepower (I wonder sometimes at the term “horsepower”, a seeming anachro- nism in this digital age), and are safer. Most important, they use less fuel.


When I started finishing hulls in 1973, some of the choices we had for installation were marinized Chevrolet gas engines (which soon disappeared from the scene), Ford inline, 6 cylinder 190-210hp. diesels, GM 4-71 and 6-71 diesels of the same technology and weight used to power tanks in World War II, Perkins diesels from Britain of some 175 hp, and Caterpillar V/8 diesels which were de- signed as truck engines.


Of them all, Perkins was a strong frontrunner. Their engines though not overly powerful were lighter and appeared to hold up well. They were sold by New England Diesel, and I remember one of their early salesmen coming to the yard dressed in a blue suit and spotless white shirt wearing a tie and spit polished black shoes. As soon as I could politely get him away from whoever he was traveling with, I quietly mentioned that if he was serious about selling engines on the coast of Maine he should probably stop off


at LL Bean’s in Freeport for a change of wardrobe. Not sure he lasted more than one trip, as I don’t recall ever seeing him again. To continue with how popular Perkins engines became during the 70’s, for those of us who began displaying boats at the newly formed Miami Boat Show in Florida, Perkins would take over a huge waterfront villa, invite any- one who had anything to do with their en- gines, (builders, salespeople, brokers, pro- spective buyers, and distributors, wives in- cluded) for a gala party. They continued to do this for several years and was always an event to look forward to. Their success lasted until someone of uncertain hierarchy decided to do away with regional distributors and centralize operations in Philadelphia, Pa. Just like a curtain had been dropped. Gone were the personalities we’d dealt with for most of the decade. Gone were the days when a builder or repair yard could call Massachu- setts and have an engine in his shop within the next day or two.


Of all the engine manufacturers, Cater- pillar “Cat” was probably the one which stood out as the company who understood what was going to happen in the marine engine field. Although they were sometimes slow to bring product to market, they gener- ally did their homework and testing well and the first 3306 naturally aspirated engines, known as the “throwaway engines” ( the pistons were not sleeved and could not easily be rebored), we used were extremely durable. One of my favorite stories over the years was of one of these engines which had powered


a lobster boat for close to twenty years and never had the heads off, was “retired” to a sawmill where it was still in daily use. So much for “Throwaway”. Made for great ammuni- tion in a salespitch.


The Cat distributor in Maine at the time was Arnold Machinery. They had about as much experience then in the smaller vessel marine industry as we did in building the smaller vessels. Whenever a boat is launched, it’s standard procedure for the distributor to send a mechanic for sea trials to make sure the engine is running correctly, make sure installation is correct and the pro- peller is allowing correct rpms. For a few years, Arnold Machinery did nothing for their reputation. Mechanic would appear in a car, pickup truck, anything he could find to drive, with a set of tools not worthy of a home handyman. Joke around our shop was launching with a Cat installed we’d better take the tools because it would mean trips back up over the hill if we didn’t. Arnold improved, though I believe Caterpillar forced them to eventually turn over the distributor- ship and possibly for the same reason. To Cat’s everlasting credit, they stood solidly behind their product with no questions asked. I quizzed one of our owners why they happened to pick Caterpillar. Answer was, “I called three engine companies in Miami one Sunday morning. Caterpillar was the only one who answered the phone.”


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