Chris McIntire was content. He had made goals — to live on Orr’s Island, to fish for a living, to raise a family — and by working hard, he had achieved them. Maybe more than anything else, he wanted to make sure his children could also have the life that satisfied him so much, if they wanted it.
McIntire, an emerging voice in the community and in Maine’s lobster fishery, died unexpectedly on Nov. 24 at the age of 32.
McIntire followed paths worn in by his parents, Dana and Susan McIntire, of Harpswell Neck, and his grandparents.
When there was time between the end of school and the start of summer camp, Dana would take the kids out on his lobster boat. Grandfather Don Brown, an Orr’s Island fisherman, built a skiff for his grandchildren, Chris and his sister Annie, to fish from.
For the first couple seasons, their mom showed them where the lobsters were around Orr’s Island. Then it was just Chris and Annie on their own, and finally just Chris. When he was ready to upgrade from the skiff, Don sold him his boat and gear.
The two had a special connection. When Chris was a child, they made the rounds of local haunts together: the Brunswick Naval Air Station runway, Dunkin’ Donuts, Denny’s. Later, they hunted and shot skeet together. Don and the rest of the family traveled around New England to watch Chris play goalie for his hockey team.
The two fished together the first season after Chris bought Don’s boat, until Chris found his own sternman. The next year, Chris gave back the skiff, which Don still uses.
This past summer, Chris was able to start passing that tradition to the next generation. He would take his sons out hauling or down to Interstate Lobster, the Ash Point co-op where he fished, to work on his boat. He got his niece a student lobster license and her own traps, which they set and fished together.
Chris had the bigger picture in mind, too. He was a thoughtful and patient advocate for Harpswell fishermen. He served on the town’s Fisheries Committee and Aquaculture Working Group. At the state level, he represented part of Harpswell on a regional lobster council. The zone councils work with the Maine Department of Marine Resources to manage the fishery.
Harpswell Select Board member Matt Gilley, himself a lobsterman, said Chris was one of the most involved lobstermen his age, consistently showing up to meetings and speaking about subjects that affected the lobster industry.
Harpswell’s interim harbormaster, Darcie Couture, said that Chris saw advocacy as his responsibility to the community. She said it takes some people a long time to understand that role, if they ever do. But Chris grasped it right away.
Couture said Chris was interested in avoiding conflict and finding the best possible outcome for all parties when he could. She recalled that Chris would stay after a committee meeting to help a person denied an aquaculture license to find an alternative location — even though aquaculture applicants and fishermen are sometimes at odds about access to fishing grounds.
“He’s going to leave a hole where he was. There’s nobody I can think of who can step into his shoes and do what he did,” Couture said.
Chris was “what every harbor wants, for one of the young guys to step up and have the best interests of the industry at heart,” said Jeff Putnam, a Chebeague Island fisherman who chairs the lobster zone council Chris served on.
Putnam said Chris was respected on the council and throughout the industry, and he often looked to Chris for his opinion. He noted that Chris was firm about his priorities: If Jeff called while Chris was with his family, he’d politely tell him it would have to wait.
His contributions were noticed in Augusta, too. Erin Summers, acting director of the state’s Bureau of Marine Science, worked closely with Chris as her office studied the breaking strength of lobster gear, a key consideration in the ongoing discussion about the risk such gear poses to endangered right whales.
She remembered Chris teaching her about knots and splices in a parking lot, and that he later dropped off hundreds of samples of buoy lines for her office to test. He also organized a group of fishermen to visit the testing lab so they could understand how their gear breaks.
“The work done by the Bureau of Marine Science was made infinitely better by his contributions and we will forever be grateful for the time that we got to spend learning from him,” Summers said.
Summers’ boss, Maine Department of Marine Resources Commissioner Carl Wilson, said Chris’ death “is a true loss for Maine and Maine’s lobster industry.”
Former state Rep. Jay McCreight, of Harpswell, called Chris “a dedicated and respectful advocate” for fishermen who could see and articulate different perspectives.
“I certainly listened when Chris spoke and I know I wasn’t alone,” McCreight said.
In one instance, Chris and Dana met with McCreight to advocate against a bill she had introduced. McCreight told the Anchor that Chris’ clear and well-reasoned objections helped convince her to vote against her own legislation.
Off the water, the Elijah Kellogg Church was an important place in Chris’ life. He had grown up in the church. As an adult, he served as a trustee. Retired pastor John Carson said Chris had loved the church community as a child and wanted his children to have the same experience.
Chris didn’t go fishing on the day he died. He spent that morning serving breakfast at the church while women from the church were reading to his youngest son.
Many of Chris’ friends and family described him as an old soul. His wife, Margaret McIntire, went so far as to call him an old man. Colby Barnes, a fisherman from Harpswell Neck and a friend of Chris’ since kindergarten, said they called him Benjamin Button because of his serious nature — a reference to a literary and movie character who aged in reverse.
Susan, his mother, said he was always a serious kid — and serious about fishing. A family friend made a wooden toy wharf, boats and traps for him, which he would arrange in meticulous order. He slept with a chart of the waters around Harpswell under his pillow until he was in middle school.
Sometimes his obsession got him in trouble. Barnes recalled that the two would get scolded for doodling lobster boats in class.
Margaret, who grew up on Orr’s Island, and Chris were a few years apart in school and didn’t know each other well until they were adults, but their histories tied them to each other and to their community. “Our worlds have been connected since long before we were around,” Margaret said. Their grandfathers had been friends in high school, and Chris’ mom had babysat Margaret’s.
They got married by the water. Dana remembered watching a pair of bald eagles circle and alight in a tree during the ceremony. He imagined the couple might one day retire from their intense careers and spend their days fishing a few traps together.
Margaret would push Chris out of his comfort zone with activities like dressing up together for Halloween. The family went as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles this year. When Chris was in charge, he liked simple adventures, like riding bikes with his kids down to the shore to throw rocks in the water.
Margaret said he loved annual vacations to Southwest Harbor with her family. Chris would study the nautical charts in the house, then drive around Mount Desert Island to look at the lobster boats in the harbors with his father-in-law.
“He didn’t need to go far. He needed nothing more than what he had,” Margaret said. “He had everything he wanted.”
