A man whose heart thrummed to the quiver and beat of the sea, Nelson Crosby Smith of Edgartown died on April 5, 2017, having failed to recover from surgery at Massachusetts General Hospital a few days before. He was 92.
The firstborn of Stanley Marcus Smith and Marguerite Gertrude (Simpson) Smith, Capt. Smith first saw light on Jan. 22, 1925, in Westerly, R.I., where his father was stationed in the Coast Guard. Make no mistake, though: Mr. and Mrs. Smith were Islanders. The first Smiths came ashore in 1642, while family lore reckons the original Simpson patriarch to have been an impressed British sailor from the War of 1812 who jumped ship.
As the 1930s dawned, Stanley Smith left maritime service and become the police chief of Edgartown. A jack of many trades (in other words, an Islander), he also worked as a fish warden, a landscaper, and a painter. Marguerite taught school and later worked for the yacht club for 35 years. Stanley Smith died in 1962, and Mrs. Smith in 1998.
As do Vineyard families still, Stanley and Marguerite shuffled around with their burgeoning brood, spending winters mostly in Edgartown, for a while in the 1851 sea captain’s house that became the Point Way Inn. One place they lived during the summers was a family house near the Yacht Club tennis courts. It was a burgeoning brood, indeed, for Nelson was the eldest of a passel of rascals that grew to nine, with Mary (Larsen), Billy, Kay (Davoll), Carole (Larsen), Diane (Osbaldeston), Mark, George, and Mike to follow. Only Mike, the retired Edgartown cemetery department superintendent, survives.
In 1935 the Smiths settled in the long, white ark of a house on the corner of South Summer and High streets built by Nelson’s grandmother, Mary West Simpson, around the turn of the 20th century. (It remained in the Smith family until 2007, when the new owner replaced it.) With money tight, the Smiths rented out their home for the high season, shuttling the considerable crew to other lodgings.
Nelson attended the Edgartown School, which in those days served through Grade 12. Of course he worked; had to, with a family that size. For a good while, in high school, he milked cows on Edward T. Vincent’s farm, rising at four to get the job done before heading directly to school. Seems that one of Nelson’s teachers took offense that the boy smelled a bit like the barn and said something about it to him. Nelson punched him out and got himself kicked out of school. He somehow wended his way back into the good graces of the principal, and was allowed back in.
At 17, in Nov. 1942, Nelson enlisted in New Bedford, hoping to ship off with the Marines, but winding up in February 1943 with the Seabees (U.S. Naval Construction Battalions), and was discharged as a boson’s mate 3rd class in November 1945. Mostly stationed in the Aleutian Islands (mainly on Kodiak), Nelson delighted in unwinding the story of how he’d bagged a Kodiak bear, something, apparently, he was not supposed to be doing up there. In a photo of Nelson on leave in his enlisted dress blue (or “crackerjack”) and flat hat, he is the picture of Sailor Jack, all spit and polish, muscle and pride.
Returning to Edgartown after the war, Nelson worked as a commercial fisherman, swordfishing in the summer on Frank Jansen’s dragger R.B. Stinson and sea scalloping in the winter. And around this time he found a mate to walk the earth beside him, to offer him, and he to her, help and comfort in prosperity and adversity, a woman of stay and sense, as her forebears from the other shore might have put it. On March 17, 1951, he married Ann Louise Bernard, an Islander born in Oak Bluffs, who survives him.
Nelson and Ann started a family in Katama, in a little red farmhouse at the end of Meetinghouse Road. William Bernard Smith of East Falmouth arrived in 1952, Nelson West Smith of Edgartown in 1953, and Susan Ann Smith of Vineyard Haven in 1956. In the late 1950s the Smiths left Katama for Chase Road, settling in a house built by John Black; and on April 5, 1967, 50 years to the day before his death, Nelson and Ann purchased the bungalow on Curtis Lane that became their homestead, where Ann still lives.
By the late Forties, Nelson fished Georges Bank with the Larsens. (His sister Mary had married Louis Larsen.) Then he’d spend months away during winters as a yacht skipper in Florida. But the wind blew hard over the Katama plain, a desolate place in those days for Ann to be rearing little ones on her own, marooned as she was for want of a driver’s license (though she was able to manage the family heap if she had to). And so to Chase Road the Smith household went. And like his father before him, Nelson Smith worked at many things, for there was plenty of time to fill and mouths to feed.
He swordfished with Bob Morgan with rod and reel, and skippered the 35-foot motor yacht Sands of Times for for Bill Bradford of Middleboro. “The thing was, to move, to work,” said his son, Nelson W. He was hired by the town around the July Fourth holiday in the mid-’60s to ferry people to visit the World War II destroyer USS Steinecker and the submarine USS Cavalla, anchored off Edgartown Harbor for the occasion.
As a launchman for the yacht club, Capt. Smith introduced son Nelson at age 5 or 6 to Jack, Bobby, and Ted Kennedy, instructing the boy to “remember this.” “And I remember because my father told me to remember,” Nelson West Smith recalled more than half a century later. Between times, Nelson Crosby Smith painted houses and delivered newspapers.
Summers from the late 1960s through 1981, he captained the Chappy Ferry, working two days on and on the third day taking people out, in the 1970s on his 35-foot Loyal, a Bruno Stillman balsa-cored fiberglass lobster boat from which he fished summers with Ed Prada, who had provided much of the gear. A hell of a boat for sloppy days, the Loyal had onboard lobster pots, swordfishing gear, the works. Winters there was scalloping.
Truth be told, there were in point of fact three or four Loyals, the first one bought after the war from Ed Case, Ralph’s uncle. The captain eventually sold the last Loyal to Ed Prada, who passed her on to his son Eddie, who sold her to Charlie Conroy, whose widow, Arlene, sold her to Steve Ewing, her caretaker for the time being.
And a word here about catboats. It was no secret that Capt. Smith was taken with the busy, beamy, slower-than-hell workboats. Yes, work, that was the point. He owned three of them from the mid-’40s to the mid-’50s.
Capt. Smith continued to skipper charters. Daughter Susan recollected how he took John Havlicek sportfishing for the Genesis Foundation tournaments in the 1980s. In his seventh decade, he began to captain for Katharine (Kay) Sutphin Ficks, owner of The General III, who’d summered at the Colonial Inn in the 1930s and later bought a house on Atwood Circle. Into her nineties Mrs. Ficks fished every fair day of the high season, until her flamingo-studded “Boca stick” could no longer support her. It was time for her and the captain to tie up.
Nelson Smith’s later years were hardly idle or solitary, for no account of his days would be complete without putting in a word about his capacity for friendship and his devotion to his fellow veterans. He was a past commander of VFW Post 9261 in Oak Bluffs, as well as an active member of American Legion Post 257 in Vineyard Haven, where in both organizations he was deeply involved in the scholarship funds, finances, and the bar committees.
And though to his credit, Capt. Smith was not a “fellow of infinite tongue,” he could on occasion ply scuttlebutt with the best of them, and stretch a fish story to the very brink of its remoter bounds. Yet his oft-plumbed memory ran deep, and when he tugged on that buoy rope that led down time’s eddy, he raised treasure.
Nelson Crosby Smith was a captain and fisherman, with gimlet eye, dry hand, stout heart, and salty nature. He was a husband and a father, a veteran and a friend. And aye, he was an Islander, and we’ll see no more of of his kind.
On April 15, 2017, Capt. Smith’s ashes were interred with full military honors at the New Westside Cemetery in Edgartown. Donations in the captain’s memory may be made to the VFW Post 9261 Scholarship Fund, P.O. Box 1437, Vineyard Haven, MA 02568. He’d have liked that.
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