Fascinating story here in this morning's WaPost on a PhD inspired auction in the State of Maryland designed to buy back crabbing licenses from small-scale crabbers who--architects of the auction surmised--had over the years moved on to other professions or simply stopped crabbing. The licenses--originally had for $50--are no longer issued, and in an effort to winnow down the number of crabbers (related to the effort to better manage the blue-crab population), the State believed that a secret auction--in which no one would know what his neighbor offered his license for--would ultimately net the state the licenses it was looking for at the lowest prices.
Well, the whole shebang has turned out to be a failure. With over 2000 bids expected by the auction creators, less than 500 actually were submitted, many with bid prices that were considered exorbitant by the State.
What was at work here? Lots of things, mostly very human stories of people whose fathers and grandfathers had plied the waters contiguous to the Eastern Shore, for whom modern-day residents have great respect. Additionally, there is a bit of reminiscing for the glory days of long-gone-past here, when there were crabs for everyone and everyone could make a living pulling them out of the water.
And.....after living with a 7th generation Eastern Shore resident for a year now....I've come to identify a rather pronounced streak of stubbornness among residents of this part of Maryland (and indeed, in the house in which I reside)--along with a bit of disdain for the authority of local government.
No, the idea was a good one in at a University of Maryland faculty club where PhD's likely constructed it. In practice--it just didn't account for the Eastern Shore very well.
Monday, August 24, 2009
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Unlike the braying masses who underpin the Nanny State, perhaps watermen understand the fundamentals upon which our country was founded. They are not willing to trade their liberty for security. God bless them and their tenacity. I wouldn't expect the University eggheads to understand crabbers' motivation, but the results of the auction should have been easily predictable.
...and they have a healthy distrust of anything cooked up by government or pointy headed PhD wielding windbags, proving once again you don't need a high priced advanced degree to offer up some common sense.
My friend Eddie, here on Virginia's Eastern Shore, is fond of telling outsiders, aka "Come Heres", when they mistake those who work with their hands and backs in addition to their minds as being intellectually inferior, that he has two PhDs. Now, I'll admit, Eddie neither looks nor talks as if he spent sufficient time in hallowed halls studying books and researching theses, let alone standing before a panel of PhDs defending them, but the man is one of the most intelligent men I know. There is NOTHING that he can't figure out. At least nothing from which such figuring wouldn't benefit those around him (although, he is male so he, along with the rest of us who carry y-chromosomes, has not figured out women). It is always enjoyable to watch people who made the mistake of acting superior around him uncomfortably trying to reconcile how this rather unpolished farmer/mechanic/heavy equipment operator/waterman/etc managed to obtain not one but two PhDs. There are usually a few questions about where he got them and he delights in telling them that he had to go across the Bay for one of them but that he worked hard here on the shore for the first one and although it took him a while, he finally got it. When they ask what they were "in" says, "Well, let me show you." He then has them follow him to his work shed where the loftier-than thou-victim-in-the-making invariably scans the spaces between the shovels and pegboard tool hangers on the wall for some indication of parchment proclaiming this unlikely scholar's achievements. And just as they begin to ask again what they are in, he proudly points to them and says, "They're in the corner over there. One's manual and the other's gas powered. Yep! Got two "Post hole Diggers" cause I got tired of digging fence post holes with a shovel." The relief on the victims' faces is only temporary as they come to the realization that this country bumpkin just played them like a cheap fiddle. People here respect people with PhDs and lofty titles as well as those without them. But they'll waste no time in putting their holders in a humbling place if they indicate those titles make them superior human beings to those whose records of accomplishment are on their hands and weathered faces rather than their walls.
When I was a kid and Dad was attached to SUBLANT staff, the Dolphin Duckers hunt club was formed among the JOs. They once held three duck blind permits on Back Bay, down by Mr. Beaseley's place near Pungo. Once the feds got all involved in the area, what with the NWR and all, they limited the blind permits and grandfathered the old ones. The Duckers only used one of the blinds, but were loathe to ever turn the other two in because, you just never know...they might need them one day. Some of my earliest and best duck hunting memories come from that time. I was 10 or 11, and Mr. Beaseley hid his homemade blackberry wine from his Baptist Missus in the machine shed. Old enough to tote a shotgun, I got to sneak "a taste" with the men after each hunt.
I completely understand why proud men would put a death grip on the license that ties them to family, industry, history, and the Bay regardless the lure of a quick buck from Annapolis.
Great story Mudge. Great neighbors too.
John S - Thanks for the note. I just came back in the house after spending a few hours rebuilding the transom on my duck boat. Have to get another part manufactured, finish the assembly, take it to Eddie's to get it painted, spray some camo pattern on it and mount my blind (fast grass). If it passes sea trials, you'll have to come up and see if we can't get CW down to try his hand at thinning the flocks. The ducks have become far less plentiful than when I first started coming here 20 years ago but I had a pretty decent year last year. Can't guarantee that we'll kill any if you and CW come up/down as applicable, but can assure you, as you already know being a duck hunter and all, we'll have fun trying. And who knows, there might even be something a little sportier than blackberry wine hidden in the shed.
Mudge,
It's almost time to begin logging the 09-10 hunting season. You might enjoy following along here: http://benellibrothers.blogspot.com
jts
john s - just took a peek at last year's reports at your blog. never mind coming up here. you've got everything you need down there. nice blog site. i'll be following for certain. thanks
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