Notes from the Old Noank Jail

Memories of Ben Rathbun

by Ed Johnson

Years ago, at the Noank Historical Society, Ben Rathbun was introduced as “Noank’s Renaissance Man.” The noun applies to a man with broad intellectual interests in areas of both arts and sciences.”

Captain Benjamin F. Rathbun, Jr., was born in 1928 and grew up in Noank where “a boy who grew up on the waterfront knew better than to get into a jam where an adult had to rescue him. His Mom would really tan his hide if he pulled such a dumb trick.” Ben’s father was a commercial fisherman and the family lived by the water, where “the waterfront area was the least desirable place in which to live…which is rather ironic when you consider the present situation.” Ben survived the local schools, survived the 1938 and 1944 Hurricanes with his family, built his first “boat” from a packing box in 1939, became an avid reader of history and science, while working with his father as a commercial fisherman, including swordfish charters, before taking over as skipper of the “Anna R” in 1958.

Ben helped show a frustrated President Dwight Eisenhower a good local fishing areas on the sound. Mr. Eisenhower was traveling with the Secret Service in a nearby boat, upset he had not caught any fish, while he watched Ben’s clients reel them in. “Ike was slouched down with a GOLF hat on his head. I had this wild impulse to tell him it was no wonder he wasn’t getting any bites with that GOLF hat on his head but I didn’t want my wife to have to raise the kids all alone, so I kept my mouth shut.” With Ben’s guidance, Mr. Eisenhower did finally catch a fish, to the embarrassment of the Secret Service. One month later, Ben caught a full audit by the IRS…”random selection, my foot!”

Ben lost his father to cancer in 1959 but continued the family business. With guidance from Boat builder Robert Whitaker and private financial assistance from Captain Jack Wilbur, a new wooden “Anna R” was launched in 1960. Ben quoted his late father’s philosophy: “Owning a fishing boat gives you the privilege of being wrong and paying through the nose for the error of your ways.” Ben felt he learned much from his father during his early years, “especially when very few normal teenage males are able to focus their attention on any area above their belt buckle.”

Later, Ben concentrated on Charter operations and purchased a new fiberglass “Anna R” in 1972, designed for sport fishing. In 1986, he turned over this operation to his son Franklin in order to focus on a marine survey business. Ben was later forced by health problems (Parkinson’s) to close the survey office in 1993, and officially “retire.” Either that, or wife Rosalie threatened to kill him if he didn’t take better care of himself.

A person with Ben’s energies and determination never “retires” or ceases to be productive, nor did health issues deter his literary “renaissance.” Ben had totally bypassed the normal college curriculum, holding instead a “Ph.D. in Generalities.” He was well known on the marine lecture circuit and became a leading local authority on Lighthouses. Ben became an active member of the Noank Fire District Executive Committee, the local village governing body. He served as Chairman of NOAA Sea Grant Review Panel, and was part active with Department of Agriculture as well as New England Fisheries Management Council.

More recently, Ben chaired a writing team which produced the 2002 book “Noank, Celebrating a Maritime Heritage,” after previously authoring the 1996 “Captains B.F. Rathbun of Noank,” an enjoyable personal history. Amazingly, Ben was also well versed and comfortable dealing with computers, despite being initially educated in the 1930s. However, it is perhaps Ben’s sense of humor that we most enjoyed. Some of his stories, such as the local minister being accidentally “boiled” in the Church Baptistery, have had us in stitches.

A few years ago, when Ben thought that his illness had gotten the best of him, he insisted on having his Wake ahead of time, so as not to miss a good party. Ben enjoyed himself so much that he then stuck around for eight more years, until finally leaving us on Friday, July 29th, 2011 at age 83.

Renaissance, indeed. We’ll miss you, Ben.