The Communication Breakdown is part three of The Diary of a POCF, a limited series written in honor of the Partners of Commercial Fishermen preparing to send or have sent off their loved ones. Through 5 stories over 9 weeks, I share my emotional journey of long-distance dating a fisherman in Bristol Bay, Alaska, including the uncertainty, frustration, & joys of a season apart. Inspired by Diary of a Sea Captain’s Wife, Tales of Santa Cruz Island by Margaret Eaton. Hope you enjoy.
Diary of a POCF Chp 3: The Communication Breakdown
Around the two-week mark, just as Iâm living my best secret life, the novelty of âbeing singleâ wears off, and I miss hanging out with Chris. Sure, I love him. But liking your partner is a different thing. I can name a few people I love but absolutely do not enjoy being around. (I guess anyone with extended family can relate.đ)
Even so, I freakin miss him! And this year hit harder. Maybe since we just got married and the newlywed vibe is best lived in a pair. But, according to other POCFs, emotions wave no matter how long youâre in the game. And thatâs precisely why I visit friends each summer. New places, girl time, and remote working is my distraction from feeling blue. And although this plan works for a while, sadness looms.Â
Usually, hanging with friends or wandering new towns keep me lifted. But on the Fourth this year, I lounged in a lawn chair and zoned out to Instagram while everyone else played bocce. It seems my self-care routine took a different route, and stepping back from the crowd was the ointment I needed for a tender heart…
That wasnât the only time I bowed out, either. While at a bar with friends and drunk patrons all around screaming Oasisâs Wonderwall, I belted out the chorus while yearning to go home and be alone. âIf I leave, can we still be friends?â I asked my friend. âIâll be the DD!â She laughed it off as a best friend would then handed over the keys. âThanks for understanding!” I said, leaning in for a hug. “I donât know whatâs up. Itâs just where I am right now.â
Recent calls with Chris may have prompted my funk.
We talked as they left the harbor, and before we hung up he said, âWeâre going to the âNush.â Dun dun duuunnnn! From what I understand, the Nushagak River is super remote, which means no phone reception and, in my head, looks like a scene from Game of Thrones. My heart jumped a few ticks, but Chris was excited to get out there. So, as a supportive POCF, I stifled my worries and cheered him on, a silent prayer slipping my lips.Â
Days later, he called, and I could tell something was up. “The weather is shitty, the seas are rough, and fish arenât showing up,” he said. He was short, blunt, and matter-of-fact. It seems the newness of Bristol Bay wore off, and Iâm reminded that every summer that, although it starts out slow, the fish show up. (Not trying to jinx it.) Needless to say, this mood-altering chat drug our conversation a bit. So I went into recovery mode, spouting encouraging words to make it better. âMaybe the weather is stirring up the fish?!â and âThe fish will come; they always do!â Silence on the other end meant I wasnât helping. I canât âfixâ a problem from four thousand miles away, and I canât control what I canât control. (Why is this so hard for me to remember?) Realizing he just needed someone to listen, I figured âIâm sorry youâre going through thisâ was the best I could do.
I change the subject, which was a struggle. A trick recommended by other POCFs is to take notes, so when your fisherman calls so, youâll be ready with all kinds of random info to share to take their mind off the season. (Anything other than a serious couple conversation, that is.) Unprepared this time, I stumbled through my words, making an uneventful day seem interesting. I blathered about my deadlines, a possible sublet for us during the spiny lobster season in California, and what weâll do in the first 48 hours heâs back. (i.e. I made him agree not to work.)
I felt weird and uncomfortable when we hung up, and my emotions were validated with a later text: Chris apologized for sounding down â the shitty weather was getting to him, he wished he was home, and as for Bristol Bay? He’s kinda over it. I thanked him for explaining and reassured him that I’ll always be his sounding board. His text kind of saved me from going down a hole. Because for a minute there, I thought it was me.
Of course, on the next call, the script is flipped. The fish arrived (thank God!), and it looks like theyâll get the poundage they need to âget the fuck outta here.â I heave a sigh of relief and immediately want to take a nap. To empathize with a fisherman is emotionally draining. You know the saying, âHappy wife, happy life?â Well, during a hard season, it leans toward âhappy fisherman, happy life,” which kind of makes my eyes roll, but it seems to be true â of course, weâve got to look out for number one (ourselves), but the thought of our partners struggling mentally, emotionally, and physically on rough seas makes the world feel off.Â
I tried explaining the emotional toll of loving a fisherman to a few mom friends, and one replied, âThat sounds like childbirth! You forget about how awful it is until you do it, then you wonder why you put yourself through it again.â In a way, she kind of nails it. As survivors of high-stress moments, we prepare for the ânext timeâ by forgetting the emotional painâs intensity ahead and remembering only the good. Â
Today, I’m on emo cruise control. Chris is fishing where he can text âevery twenty-four hours,â but know it won’t happen. Even though he has cell service, it’s the peak of the season. He’s fishing his nuts off and wonât have many breaks.
Until Chris returns, I try to forgive myself for missing a call or two and cherish each message. His texts feel like surprise love notes when they come in, his words weighing more from Alaska than when weâre in the same town. I canât believe three weeks have passed since he left, and we have…wait…only three weeks to go?! Holy crap, I have a long to-do list before he gets home; deadlines, house projects, friends coming to town, weeding the garden… The gears have shifted once again. Here we freakin’ go. đ Â
What is your biggest communication challenge? Have you experienced any something like this? Please share in the comments below!
Enjoy these Helpful Posts for Long-Distance Dating a Commercial Fisherman!
- When you donât hear from them: here
- When youâre doubting your long-distance relationship: here
- When the satellite phone cuts out when a conversation doesnât end well: here
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Private Forum: If you want to connect further with others in our community, Iâd love for you to join us in the private forum! The forum is a safe space for us to chat with POCFs all over the world to share our thoughts and feelings without judgment. If it feels aligned for you, here is a link to learn more!Â
Featured image by Simran Sood
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Wow. I sure could relate to every word… every emotion. You nailed it!
Jennie! Thank you for saying that! It’s comforting to know this doesn’t just happen to me! Would be a fun topic in our next FB group chat. I’ll keep you posted when it is â hope you can join!!