One boat at a time

He’s pushing 82 years of age and has spent about 50 of those years on the water.

It’s safe to say that boats are no foreign topic to Jim Squires of Burlington; whether it’s going out in the bay aboard one, or as proven in the past 30 years or so, building them.

Born on the northern peninsula in 1928, Mr. Squires spent his early years in Quirpon – a picturesque community situated on the northern tip of the island. Once a great force in the fishing industry, it was home for Mr. Squires until he was the tender age of seven – the year was 1935.

It was the middle of the Great Depression and the fishing industry was in trouble. Folks were frantically trying to seek employment in other areas and industries in order to provide for their families.

For Mr. Squires’ father, he had gotten word about a prosperous company that made their fortune in the forestry industry – Bowater. A major logging operation was apparently on the go in a town south east of Burlington.

From there the family made the trek down the northern coast and settled into Burlington in an area known today as Mill’s Cove.

Mr. Squires remembers that summertime meant Burlington was a busy little spot with workers from all over the island residing in shacks, tents and houses as wood camps were filling up with workers.

In the early ‘30s and ‘40s, Burlington was not only known for the prosperous woods operations but also the schooner building industry.

For a young Mr. Squires, all this was happening in his backyard, as Mill’s Cove was also the launching point for some of the most magnificent trans-Atlantic schooners the province had to offer at the time. He still recalls seeing the mighty ships come into port – particularly one day when a skilled skipper showed the awe-struck lad just how it was done.

“When I first came to Burlington none of the schooners had motors – it was all powered by sails,” Mr. Squires recalls. “This one day a schooner came in to pick up a load of lumber, and the area he had to come in wasn’t much bigger than the boat itself. The skipper brought it into the bay, wind gusting a gale with all sails up. He passed by our house and turned the ship around on its heal and landed right to the wharf.”

Mr. Squires recalls looking on awestruck by the skipper’s capabilities, and to this day, is still impressed.

“Those old fellers, they knew how to do it,” he says with a grin.

As time went on, Mr. Squires eventually started working in the woods. Armed with nothing more than a bucksaw and lunch bag, he lived the life of a woodsman until 1960, when he made the leap over to the fishery.

“I can’t tell you why I went fishing – I just did.”

Either way, it was a way of life for 39 years until he finally stopped his professional fishing career in 1999. But stop working was a different thing altogether. Mr. Squires kept working from then in Prince Edward Island for a few years – working a 13 hour shift on his 75th birthday.

He now says he’s finally retired and has no desire to go back into the work force anymore.

Looking back on his years as a logger and fisherman, Mr. Squires admits that if he had his time back he would have stayed a logger. But yet, he still enjoys fishing.

Although no longer doing it professionally, going fishing is still a welcome pastime for the active senior. He’s taken part in the food fishery this year and in years past, but notes he hasn’t had much luck in his endeavours.

“It’s the wrong time of year,” he says. “There’s never any fish around this time of year – they need to change the dates.”

When it comes to the fishery, Mr. Squires has his opinions on how things were and how they are now, and rightfully so. He’s spent most of his adult life on the water – usually in a boat that he built with his own hands.

The total now is around 10, he figures – including everything from 12 to 16 foot, to a long liner - his personal favourite accomplishment.

“I guess I learned how to build a boat from my father,” he says. “He was a carpenter – then again, father did pretty much everything. But the first boat I ever built, we built it together.”

From then on, Mr. Squires says there’s nothing to it, and that anyone can do it if they wanted to.

“The younger generation today usually wants a fibreglass boat – but that’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Fibreglass rots – it’s like putting a plastic bucket out in the sun for too long – what’s going to happen to it? No sir, there’s nothing like a good old fashioned wooden boat.”

And building a wooden boat called the Jammer at the age of 82 was his latest project. Built up from the foundation of an old speed boat he constructed several years ago, the Jammer was assembled over a two-year period in Mr. Squires’ garden, from lumber made from logs he cut himself.

At 82 it’s no easy task, but for Mr. Squires he shrugs it off as no big deal, and it’s obvious this sort of thing is second nature to him. His attitude towards it all is summed up in his answer to the question “what next?”

“I think I might build another one,” he says with a smile and a longing look. His wife in the background is quick to chime in.

“He’s not allowed.”