For Others less Themselves
Several years ago, it was an early August morning while lying-to in Folly Cove. I awoke in the v-berth at approximately 6am and could hear my brother’s guttural snoring from the salon couch. Years earlier while standing alongside one another watching the Fourth of July fireworks, at the age of 55, Dean dropped to the ground and suffered a traumatic stroke which left him paralyzed from the waist down.
Knowing Dean‘s strength declines as the day passes I laid in the bunk fading in and out of sleep. With an occasionally tap upon the cell phone clock I longed for 8am. At that time, I felt the sun would rise over the trees and the cockpit warm enough for me to dive off the stern and Dean spray himself with the cockpit saltwater wash-down.
Finally, at 8am I grabbed two Starbuck espressos from the fridge and climbed the steps into the salon. I was shocked to find my brother uncovered frantically shivering while white-foam poured from his mouth. I vaulted up the stairs to the helm and hailed the Gloucester Coast Guard.
What should have felt like hours seemed like minutes. I turned to see Rockport Harbormaster’s Rosemary Lesch and Scott Story pulling alongside. Rose introduced herself asked for our names and immediately knelt, grabbed Dean’s hand and began the chant, ”Dean stay with me…open your eyes… look at me.” Pursuant to Rosemary administering oxygen she read Dean’s blood pressure outload to Scott who like clockwork radioed the Coast Guard, EMT’s and awaiting Firemen now parked at the Folly Cove beach head. Normal is 120 / 80 Dean’s blood pressure was 69 / 59. As these two numbers form a marriage…. its lights-out.
Shortly after the Coast Guard pulled alongside. Later that week I heard Petty Officer Hieser and his crew raced up the Annisquam River at Mach – 4.
It was decided to keep Dean aboard “Message She Gave”. While Rosemary maintained her mantra, Scott off my bow, manned the lead boat directing me around Halibut Point into Rockport Harbor while the Coast Guard traveled shortly aft.
Scott coordinated the docking with the waiting police and trailing Coast Guard. The edge of the harbor was lined with locals and tourists drawn via the number of flashing emergency lights. Once tied to the town-dock, the cockpit quickly teemed with care-givers. At that point Rosemary provided the latest vitals to the EMT’s. While continuing to caress Dean’s hand, it was surreal to watch Rosemary whisperer to my inattentive semi-conscious brother “Dean, don’t give up …you’re in good hands.”
The following morning while Dean was in and out of consciousness I left Addison Gilbert’s ICU drained and drove to Rockport’s Harbor Master Office. I knocked and heard Rosemary yell..”Doors open come in!” I stepped up into the office and saw Rosemary with her head glued to the computer screen. Without looking-up she said “I’ll be with you in a minute.” When Rosemary turned she immediately sprung to her feet. We stood silent looking into one another’s rapidly glossy eyes. I raised my index finger signifying I needed a moment to compose myself.
I pointed to the chair subsequently Rosemary nodded her head. Again both raw with emotion from the previous day we sat motionless.
“Been busy?” Rosemary gratefully replied “Always something?” “How’s Dean?” Having broken the ice we recomposed ourselves discussed the previous day’s events and I acknowledge the professional and timely response from all those involved.
It wasn’t long before I noted we had met approximately 15 years earlier. I had written an opinion page article about Rosemary which for months I kept on file however never submitted due to the plight of the local fishing industry. The letter spoke of entering Rockport Harbor with Barry Pieper, an associate from Minneapolis. I expressed to Barry” This is not a transient friendly harbor however it is esthetically beautiful.” As was expected, within moments the Harbor Master boat rushed alongside my port beam. I yelled down noting who Barry was and we were turning-around. Rosemary yelled “Can you handle the boat!” I calmly answered “I can handle the boat.” Rosemary yelled back “Can you handle the boat Cap!” I clinched my teeth looked down and without raising my eyes with a grin I said “I can handle the boat.” Rosemary shouted “I thought so…if you steer between the stern of the lobster boat and towards the bow of the sailboat with extended spring-lines tie-up to the sea-wall. You have about 2 hours of tide!” $355 later…we ate at Roy’s, both bought docksiders, Barry purchased gifts for his wife and kids, I bought Barry a nautical alphabet-belt to this day fondly reminds him of Cape Ann.
We sat discussing local waterfront politics and soon it was time for Rosemary to get back to work and I back to the ICU. We walked to the doorstep and as we faced one another we embraced and the heart-felt emotions and humanity of the previous day hit. Other than knowing she was Rockport’s Co- Harbor Master, I had no idea if Rosemary was married, gay, where she grew up, her ideology, had children was a veteran or a grandmother. All I knew …she held his hand and helped save my brother’s life.
As we pulled apart it was evident emotions got the best of us. As my chin quivered and my face taut I dug deep into my soul to barely whisper “Thank you.” I turned and stepped down onto the side walk. As her voice cracked I heard Rosemary say “I guess we’re friends for life.” I clinched my teeth, looked down and without raising my eyes with tears rolling down my face, musingly I said “I can handle the boat.”
My brother remained in the hospital for 28 days. To those Coast Guard, Firemen, Police, EMT’s, Addison Gilbert ER-ICU, volunteers and Co –Harbor Masters a heart-felt….. Happy Thanksgiving!
Bob Alves
Gloucester, MA
