"props"

"Props" (respect) are not given lightly on the docks. Props are earned through hard work, demonstrated skills and, to some extent, through the reputation of past deeds. Of course, reputation is a subjective thing, but that doesn't diminish the appreciation of a good story, true or not.

The "Kid" is 23 years old, 6 ft 4", 240 pounds. He's not an outstanding worker, has no discernible skills, but he tells some of the most outrageous stories I have ever heard. Both sides of his head are shaved, the remaining hair, long and black. He is Native American, Sioux and Blackfoot. The crew calls him "How". When he smiles, which is often, his eyes smile, too. He suffers the verbal abuse silently, stoically.

He was born on a train in a boxcar somewhere in New Mexico. His birth certificate says he was born in a field. His mother and father were druggies, his mother shot and killed his father and then shot herself. as did his brother. He says it did not affect him much. What affected him most was the death of his dog, "the best friend I ever had...". He still grieves.

At the age of 16, he joined the Marine Corp and was sent to Iraq where he was severely wounded, losing the vision in his right eye, double knee replacement to his left knee and shot through the chest/spine. The doctors told him he would never walk again, so he got out of bed and walked from California to Maine. He was trying to reach North Carolina, but ended up here. The crew says it is because he must have been dragging that left leg and got him off course.

He owns 800 acres in Montana with 1000 wild mustangs and was offered $9 million dollars, which he refused. His medical disability of $2,000/month goes to his daughter who lives in Russia. He can no longer see her because the last time he was there he beat up 8 cops in a bar, was placed in a Russian prison and charged with "crimes against humanity".

Once he was without food for several weeks, went to an animal shelter to get food for his dog and lived off the 50 pound bag they provided him for a month. The other morning, it was 40 degrees and he was wearing a tank top, shivering. I gave him my rain coat. Later he told me, "Thanks. It's really warm, like sleeping in a trash bag."

He is fascinated by the various animal marine life that he digs out of the fish hoppers and keeps a mental list of the different jellyfish, butterfish, skate, haddock, monkfish, eels, dogfish, crabs which he collects in a bucket and brings to me with a big smile on his face. He is always hungry and I share my sandwiches with him, buy him coffee.

He smokes handrolled cigarettes clumsily. We were discussing the Bible one day and his comment was "I smoked the Old Testament once..."... used the thin parchment paper for rolling stock. One of the guys once said, "I always thought I might like to be a college history professor... or an English professor". He said "I always wanted to be a dinosaur"...

The other day the topic of discussion during coffee was scars. Charlie showed his 56 stitches in his scalp and told of the idiot who hit him with a beer bottle for asking for a cigarette. Another guy showed his 26 stitches from a pool cue, another 6 stitches from a fist in his eye lid. They looked at me and the medical scar I have down my neck from parotid surgery in 2006. I turned my head, pointed at the scar and said "knife fight".

Major props... couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.