Most of my family and conected memories are of the eastern shore of Marylands Chesapeake bay. Just hard working watermen without alot of money to spend on the luxuries of life. But they lived well on modest equiptment, and the skill to use them. After the war, (WW2) my dad came home and moved us to the Washington D.C.area as he was now employed by the "gov't". But summers were my most treasured times as I would return to spend the summer with my granddad on the water.
Grandad and his cronies were kind of on the rough side, and cussed like it was a fine art form. To them I guess it was. Grandads boat the "Lady Anne" was named after his mother, and was 30 feet of wood bay built work boat. Crabbing in the summer, and oystering in the winter. By the wheel up forward there was always a beat up tin bucket of knives. Knives were important on a bay workboat, but not a high expense item. In the morning heading out with the dawn, grandad would steer, and tell me to "put a fresh edge on those knives". There was a huge carborundum stone on the work table midships, and it was this 12 year olds job to give them a quick lick. If there was a chop running this could be a somewhat tricky thing. All the knives were similar, wood handle butcher knives of strait carbon steel, with blades almost black with a thick patina. But no rust. Once in a while the handles would get rubbed with linseed oil, and the blades wiped down.
Grandad was unusual among watermen because he spent a pretty penny on his pocket knife. Most of them had a low cost barlow, or plain jack, but for reasons of his own pride, grandad took great pleasure in using his stag handle Hen and Rooster stockman. A decade after ww2 ended, the German cutlery companies were at full swing again, making a wide variety of knives for the export market. The Bertram Brothers were among those. The stag on grandads knife was nicely ridged and had a dark golden patina. Today it sits on my pipe rack, and once in a while I will carry it. The charcoal grey blades get a razor edge, and cut like a freshly charged lazer. I think I saw grandad use the knife for just about everything from reaming the bowl of his pipe with the spey blade to fillet breast of quail with the main clip. He had the neetest way of doing that, but as many times as I saw him do it, I can't duplicate the trick. When not working on the boat, quail hunting was one of his passions.
All his cronies we hunted with used pocket knives for everything. They did not seem to have a dedicated "hunting" knife. Most used plain barlow knives, with the Imperial brand being very popular. This was when Imperial used real bone and steel for the bolsters, before they got really cheap with those crimped on handles that fell off after a month or so, if they lasted that long. You could tell how long a man had his knife by the handle. The bone new was very light, Imperial did'nt waste much stain on those knives. After a few years the bone handles would be a mellow yellow going on gold. When a man had that knife for a long while, the bone had darkened to the shade of ice tea in a glass. I supose some decorator would call it a rich autum brown. The color went well with the dark blades.
The most popular gun used by all of them was the single break open Stevens. They like those because they were cheap enough to keep around. One behind the kitchen door, another on the boat, and maybe another out in the barn or shed someplace sheltered. I know out on the boat, grandad was not above taking a duck if it came to be. Most of the watermen did not seem to care about trivial things like "seasons". They had families to feed, and duck and venison helped stretch the groceries. They just kept it on the Q.T.
These days I see a traditional pocket knife and I go back in my mind to the Choptank, and the hard working people I knew who used them as everyday tools, along with old single barrel shotguns, and wooden boats, to feed whole familys. Its amazing how little they had back then, and were getting by very well, and were happy. A home had maybe one TV set, a radio to listen to the weather, a single phone, one family car to use on Sunday to go to church, and one truck. Compared to todays homes, they lived a sparten existance, but I think they lived better. Familys were tighter, nieghbors were your best friends, and everyone in the community was your nieghbor. If somebody went down with an illness or injury, the whole community pitched in to help. Today most people don't know thier nieghbors three doors down.
To me, the kinds of knives have come to be almost symbolic of todays society. The new knives with the molded zytel handles, tumble finished stainless blades designed to be easy to produce on automatic grinders, are sort of soulless. Almost disposable. They warrent no loyalty. But a nice stockman or whittler, with polished dyed bone handles, nickle silver bolsters, and blades that a cutler has sat there and worked to krink them just right to nest together neatly, is something else. One appratiates it a bit more, take care of it properly. Not to be abused.
I don't know where I was going with this, its a grey drizly day and my arthritus was killing me and I think I've had one whiskey toddy to many. Oh well, chalk it off as the ramblings of an old fart that had too many too early. I think I'll go take a nap.
Grandad and his cronies were kind of on the rough side, and cussed like it was a fine art form. To them I guess it was. Grandads boat the "Lady Anne" was named after his mother, and was 30 feet of wood bay built work boat. Crabbing in the summer, and oystering in the winter. By the wheel up forward there was always a beat up tin bucket of knives. Knives were important on a bay workboat, but not a high expense item. In the morning heading out with the dawn, grandad would steer, and tell me to "put a fresh edge on those knives". There was a huge carborundum stone on the work table midships, and it was this 12 year olds job to give them a quick lick. If there was a chop running this could be a somewhat tricky thing. All the knives were similar, wood handle butcher knives of strait carbon steel, with blades almost black with a thick patina. But no rust. Once in a while the handles would get rubbed with linseed oil, and the blades wiped down.
Grandad was unusual among watermen because he spent a pretty penny on his pocket knife. Most of them had a low cost barlow, or plain jack, but for reasons of his own pride, grandad took great pleasure in using his stag handle Hen and Rooster stockman. A decade after ww2 ended, the German cutlery companies were at full swing again, making a wide variety of knives for the export market. The Bertram Brothers were among those. The stag on grandads knife was nicely ridged and had a dark golden patina. Today it sits on my pipe rack, and once in a while I will carry it. The charcoal grey blades get a razor edge, and cut like a freshly charged lazer. I think I saw grandad use the knife for just about everything from reaming the bowl of his pipe with the spey blade to fillet breast of quail with the main clip. He had the neetest way of doing that, but as many times as I saw him do it, I can't duplicate the trick. When not working on the boat, quail hunting was one of his passions.
All his cronies we hunted with used pocket knives for everything. They did not seem to have a dedicated "hunting" knife. Most used plain barlow knives, with the Imperial brand being very popular. This was when Imperial used real bone and steel for the bolsters, before they got really cheap with those crimped on handles that fell off after a month or so, if they lasted that long. You could tell how long a man had his knife by the handle. The bone new was very light, Imperial did'nt waste much stain on those knives. After a few years the bone handles would be a mellow yellow going on gold. When a man had that knife for a long while, the bone had darkened to the shade of ice tea in a glass. I supose some decorator would call it a rich autum brown. The color went well with the dark blades.
The most popular gun used by all of them was the single break open Stevens. They like those because they were cheap enough to keep around. One behind the kitchen door, another on the boat, and maybe another out in the barn or shed someplace sheltered. I know out on the boat, grandad was not above taking a duck if it came to be. Most of the watermen did not seem to care about trivial things like "seasons". They had families to feed, and duck and venison helped stretch the groceries. They just kept it on the Q.T.
These days I see a traditional pocket knife and I go back in my mind to the Choptank, and the hard working people I knew who used them as everyday tools, along with old single barrel shotguns, and wooden boats, to feed whole familys. Its amazing how little they had back then, and were getting by very well, and were happy. A home had maybe one TV set, a radio to listen to the weather, a single phone, one family car to use on Sunday to go to church, and one truck. Compared to todays homes, they lived a sparten existance, but I think they lived better. Familys were tighter, nieghbors were your best friends, and everyone in the community was your nieghbor. If somebody went down with an illness or injury, the whole community pitched in to help. Today most people don't know thier nieghbors three doors down.
To me, the kinds of knives have come to be almost symbolic of todays society. The new knives with the molded zytel handles, tumble finished stainless blades designed to be easy to produce on automatic grinders, are sort of soulless. Almost disposable. They warrent no loyalty. But a nice stockman or whittler, with polished dyed bone handles, nickle silver bolsters, and blades that a cutler has sat there and worked to krink them just right to nest together neatly, is something else. One appratiates it a bit more, take care of it properly. Not to be abused.
I don't know where I was going with this, its a grey drizly day and my arthritus was killing me and I think I've had one whiskey toddy to many. Oh well, chalk it off as the ramblings of an old fart that had too many too early. I think I'll go take a nap.
. The post was a pleasure to read jackknife. Thanks for sharing:thumbup:
