I grew up down the street from cranberry bogs. When I was really little, I went down there even though I wasnt supposed to. We skated on them in the winter and jumped the ditches all the rest of the year when they werent flooded. We ate the berries. We made necklaces.

Years later I briefly worked the harvest for a grower in the mid-cape area. The ad said: cranberry harvesters needed M or F. no experience necessary. Turned out two girls got hired. me and Deirdre. Deirdre was cute and 20. She was going to police school. she was going to be a cop. she grew up in Harwich. She looked good in hipwaders. Mostly she rode around with the owner in his golf cart and on the picker with the picker guy.

The owner was 3rd or 4th generation cranberry farmer. His name was Carver Nickerson. You CANT get more Cape Cod cranberry than that . the town of Carver Massachusetts is the fucking Cranberry Capital of New England . I found out though that the cranberrys integrity was wearing thin with Mr Nickerson - he was developing his cranberryland with big luxurious homes. thats where the money is- the southeastern Mass bogs were becoming obsolete ever since Oregon and Washington had pushed into the market. Nickerson was still growing the berries for now and they still needed to be picked even if they were destined to be dumped to rot by the oceanspray "co-op " Like most new england farms, the bogs now rely on thier scenic capacity in a real estate driven economy. All the better if folks can watch the natives herd thier cows or harvest the pretty crops.

The picker guy came down from Wareham or thereabouts with his special harvester fitted out to work in the water. I would leave the house at A 6:00 a.m every day in beautiful fall weather. It was early October. I saw some deer along the mid cape highway on my 40 minute drive. I also saw some orangy brown animals standing at attention on thier hind legs. They looked like woodchucks which I didnt even know we had but there they were watching the sunrise every morning.

There were 6 bogs. they covered about 75 acres. They were already flooded with two and a half feet of water and flagged to mark the main irrigation dtches and little ditches. The big ditches were about 4 feet wide. They had plank crossings like underwater bridges because they were too wide to jump. These had yellow flags. The more numerous ditches were only one to two feet wide and jumpable. they were marked with pale blue flags. I kept thinking was it the yellow flags that are litle ditches? and what about when they intersect? maps and systems like that have always confused me even when its really simple. Since they werent marked all acoss just at their beginnings and ends along the edges, you had to be careful. Carver told me to bring extra clothes since I was bound to fall in - It happens to everyone he said. I didnt fall in. but I worried about it more than everyone else Im sure.

The other workers didnt speak much english. They were mostly Cape Verdeans. the talkative ones asked me "what you want like this job?" or "this no work for girls. you go get a nice job." The deal was a wet harvesting machine was driven over the bog which detached the cranberries from the vines leaving scarlet islands floating on the water. We used booms to gather them together. They do the same thing to contain oilspills. We used lengths of two by fours linked together with s hooks. one crew walks throught the water to manouver the boom into a c shape while the other crew is on the bank using light weight snow shovels to push the water and the cranberries into the floating lasso. then it would be closed up into a circle and a special harvester would suck the water and the berries up and spit the berries onto the truck and the water back into the bog.

I worked both crews. I really liked being on the bog with the boom. Even though it was painfully tiring I liked wading through the water and being in that big red berry spill. I kept thinking cranberries are great. thank god for cranberrries.

after a week I came to work and waited on the sandy road with the others but I didnt get called to a crew. this happened three days in a row. Carver had a foreman who would direct us to whatever bog was next. Me and usually one other unlucky soul would be left out. Diedre was the officicial golf cart girl so she was all set .On the 4th day of the 2nd week I sought out Carver before the foreman came around.

"Hey umm hi " I said. "I havent been needed for the past 3 days and I was wondering if you still need me or what. Im driving in from centerville......" Carver was nodding his head as I spoke. "Oh jeez. yeah well looks like wešre all set" he said. "I just cant say for sure but I hate to have you drive all the way out here from centerville so thanks alot for you help last week. Ill pay you an extra couple days for comin in this week ok? he pulled out his wallet and handed me 80 bucks. "ok that should cover. it sorry to have you drive out here, you never can tell how these crops will come in. thanks again"