After near tragedy, it's back out to sea for fisherman Billy 'the Kid' Carman

By Mark Harringtonmark.harrington@newsday.com MHarringtonNewsMarch 3, 2020

It was just 12 days since Billy "the Kid" Carman and his crew had been rescued after the fishing trawler New Age took on water in heavy seas 20 miles south of Fire Island Inlet.

Now, on Feb. 24, Carman was back at the Montauk commercial fishing dock, preparing for another deep-sea trip.

The need for income had forced him to change hats from captain of the New Age to deckhand on the longline fishing vessel, the Kimberly, Carman said during a break from a day of preparations for up to 10 days on the water.

Like other Long Island fishermen, Carman is subject to the ups and downs of the commercial fishing life — dangerous weather, fish migrations, population spikes and plunges and sometimes daily changes in regulations.

He owns his own smaller bay boats, which he works from spring to fall but works on larger offshore boats in winter to supplement his income. It's a reality that means working offshore boats in winter, inshore boats from spring to fall, and riding the highs and lows of fish availability.

“The inshore fishery last year, everybody had a horrible year,” he said. “Prices were low and there was not that much fish around.”

“Unfortunately, he, like many other commercial fisherman, he is going to be faced with the reality that quotas for their species that they fish for regularly are diminishing,” Pat Augustine, a Long Island fisheries advocate who formerly sat on the Atlantic States Marine Fisheries Commission, said of Carman.

“And with diminishing stocks, although many are successfully being rebuilt, unless the number of fishermen are reduced, their quotas will be lessened going forward,” said Augustine, a member of the Highly Migratory Species Management Council.

Fishermen have long complained about the squeeze, but understand they’ve got to work within the system if they want to keep on fishing.

"You ain't going to get a land job," said Mike Havens, a crew member with Carman on the New Age, whose father Ben Havens was among Long Island's last haul-seine fishermen. "I grew up fishing. It’s a way of life. I’d rather be my own boss. I only got one person to answer to and that’s myself."

Carman, 32, had been captain of the New Age for about a month on Feb. 12 when it began taking on water after midnight in winds of up to 30 knots and 8- to 10-foot swells, before a daring Coast Guard rescue.

Carman and Havens, both from Amagansett fishing families, were resolved to stay on the boat and pump it out when a 10-foot swell sent the ship on a nearly vertical climb, said Coast Guard officer Caelan Harshaw, who ordered them to abandon ship. They were plucked from the water after another mate, Mitchell Lester, was transported by helicopter to the hospital.

Carman reported for work on a new ship, the Kimberly, last Monday in Montauk. The ship was stocking up with food and gear for the 10-day trip to longline for tile fish in deep offshore waters. Longlining involves setting a miles-long line of baited hooks in the sea rather than using nets.

“I’m ready to go back to work,” said Carman, wearing a navy-blue hoodie and baggy jeans on his lean frame. An ever-present baseball cap smothered his unkempt red-brown hair, and his mustache crept over his upper lip as he lit another Seneca cigarette.

Deckhands can make $35,000 to $45,000 a year depending on how ambitious they are and how much work is available. Captains and boat owners can make $75,000 to $100,000 or more, depending on their skill, luck, license allowances and costs, Carman said.

Carman said he expected to work on the Kimberly every day from first light until 2 a.m. or 3 a.m. the next day, and sometimes around the clock.

“It’s really hard to get on this boat — they make a lot of money and they have a full-time crew," said Carman, who worked on the Kimberly for a year, three years ago. And the Kimberly is “definitely one of the safest boats in the harbor,” he said.

Carman said the monthlong job will help him through the late-winter financial crisis that can plague fishermen.

He was leaving Montauk and Kelly Lester, with whom he’s lived for 12 years in Amagansett, after borrowing $100 for her for groceries and home expenses.

Carman said he was expecting his share of the month of fishing revenue on the New Age sometime this week, after boat owner Chris Winkler of Montauk gets checks for the fish.

But he noted, “once again, I’m leaving the household with no money for food and gas.”

Carman works primarily as a bayman for most of the year, from May 1 through the fall. He tends to conch and sea-bass pots and vast mazes of bay nets called pound traps in the waters of the East End. In the winter he dredges for bay scallops — a fishery that saw a near total wipeout this year.

But expenses can quickly destroy hopes for a good year.

Carman spent $5,000 for two new engines for his bay boat, Billy the Kid, a bargain as they go, he said. He has yet to install them for the spring run, which starts May 1.

Last week, his boat remained on his front lawn at the corner of Hump Path and Abrahams Path in Amagansett, where the trees were hung with old buoys and fishing gear lay in piles in the driveway and the yard. A handwritten sign hawking "Scallops" was posted at the end of his driveway, despite the disastrous year for bay scallops.

Working on offshore boats has become more important for Carman given new restrictions on the inshore fishery, and a relative scarcity of some once-vital fish.

Regulators still are trying to figure out why bluefish saw vast declines in the past year — and why scallops, which Carman typically sells from a shop in his yard, saw an almost total die-off in many parts of Peconic Bay this season. Also, even striped bass, a key money fish, are under new commercial and recreational restrictions.

Despite the financial pressures, and the physical ones — Carman is getting acupuncture treatments for knee pain and to help him quit smoking — he said there’s little chance he’ll leave the fishing life for anything else.

“I can’t get a desk job or work as a landscaper,” he said. “It just doesn’t work out. It’s not in my blood.”