'■■.■ ■ it would class him as high boat when the season would end. As children we would be up at the crack of dawn, wait¬ ing to wave at every fishing boat leaving the harbour. Living there we got to know all of the fish¬ ermen, and that wave was something we just had to be there for. In the evening we would be waiting at the raceway for father. Carrying his lunch pail we would take it and share together whatever food was left. The food had a taste of gasoline but we ate it just the same. The next evening we would meet father who would have fresh lobsters for our supper. Mother would have a large boiler of water steaming on the old coal Stove, and being very impatient we never stopped asking when they would be cooked. Getting a little to close to the lobsters one day, my thumb ended up in one of the claws. Father's quick action with his jackknife at the time saved my thumb. The deafening screams still haunt me to this very day. During the lobster season as children living at Jude's Point, we made out daily visits to the cannery. We were not allowed to go inside, but we could watch the workers cooking and 41