I dug 92 worms that first day,” Renwick said, smiling at the memory. “I had my peanut butter bucket and a hoe. He took his son over to Dick Orcutt in nearby Franklin to learn the art of digging blood worms. When Renwick turned twelve, his father, James Renwick, decided it was time for him to make some real money. He always headed back in for noon dinner and then went fishing around here in the afternoons.” Photo by Melissa Waterman. “I baited bait bags for him for a dollar a day. “My grandfather tied me to the bait tub so I wouldn’t go overboard,” he recalled with a smile.
They are the product of many years of hard labor on the part of Renwick, who began lobstering when he was eight years old. Renwick’s house overlooks Schoodic harbor. “We had this one bred,” he says, gesturing to an enormous dog lounging on a picnic table. His blue eyes gleam even brighter in the late afternoon sun as he ushers his five big dogs away from a visitor to his Birch Harbor home. First published in the MLA Newsletter, October, 2012.
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