mrsanders

NOW IT CAN BE TOLD!
Who was the mysterious Mr Sanders?

Where did it come from? My lasting passion for painting Pacific fishing trawlers?

Out of nowhere like an enchantment--or so I used to think.

I've written before how meeting a fisherman selling his own catch at the Bodega Bay docks touched me--with a kind of madness according to some! More than intrigued by him, I began painting these activities, and the fascination never stopped. Then it seemed something with no explanation at all.

Something true to life about my "new-found" love of the water, of fisher folk, of their boats, has now occurred to me.

You need to know that my first eight years of life were lived in Evansville, Indiana, a city on the banks of the Ohio River. Then my family moved 168 miles north, to Indianapolis, leaving most of those old ties behind us.

To begin with the river itself, now I remember our habits. When out of places to go or things to do, my (pre-tv) family often drove to the river landing. Here we would watch the sun sink behind that huge rushing body of water, the Ohio. My parents rarely spoke good or bad about the river itself, but this habit was impressive. I remember this peaceful, inspiring sight especially at sundown.

Second, about fishermen, I do recall that our short, wiry, ruddy-skinned neighbor actually fished the Ohio River for a living. How could I ever have forgotten Mr Sanders, with his husky voice and hearty laugh! His eldest son was about my age, so we shared classes at school. When lack of local employment pushed my family to move north, we lost track of one another forever, as children did then.

Oddly enough, I never actually saw Mr Sanders at work, or his boat, or his catch! Naturally his work schedule took him from home for days and nights at a time, and out of my sight. And his fish went to one of the local fish markets for wider distribution.

All that is except for one finny monster that he brought home to share with family and friends. This huge fish hung from a tree in their backyard, fully visible next morning. Mr Sanders cut off choice steaks for everyone to have. I believe he kept this one back, as an unbeatable highlight in his fishing career.

Thanks to the internet, I learned that Mr Sanders died several years ago at the age of 88.

So young Carol fell in love with life on the water and with fishing families' concerns for good reasons. Just for a long time, she forgot. The Pacific Ocean, San Francisco Bay, and that unknown fisherman at Bodega Bay stirred it up again.

Once you know "whodunnit," the mystery evaporates.
Amazing, still, to realize how urgently I am now touched by incidents of so long ago!--Carol Lois Hayood

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The photo comes from the Wisconsin Historical Society collection online, picturing Ohio River fishermen at work.