Deaths are a sad reminder of risks that built a city

Gloucester mourns 2 fishermen killed offshore early Saturday

Peter Parisi (left) and Kevin Farless worked to untangle fishing nets yesterday at the docks in Gloucester. The deaths of Matteo Russo and John Orlando ''affects the whole community here,'' Farless said. (Globe Staff Photo / David Kamerman)

GLOUCESTER - Matteo Russo fished for a living, like his father before him in Sicily and his two younger brothers in Gloucester. He learned the ancient trade as a boy and, as a man, worked hard to make a living from the sea. Last year, he upgraded to a better boat, a 54-foot steel-hulled trawler named Patriot that, with its high-tech gear, was the envy of this city's docks.

On Saturday at 1:45 a.m., Russo and his longtime fishing partner, his father-in-law John Orlando, were fishing for cod in the deep waters of the Middle Bank 15 miles off Gloucester when his boat's fire alarm sounded, triggering an alarm in his home that roused his wife, Giuseppina. She called the Coast Guard, which broadcast an alert to boaters, saying the Patriot was in distress.

Matteo's brother, Salvatore, who was down at the docks, preparing for a 3 a.m. fishing voyage, heard the broadcast over his radio, and raced out to find his brother. By the time he arrived in the Middle Bank, he saw only flotsam from the Patriot's deck floating in the water, a Coast Guard cutter and helicopter circling nearby.

Hours later, rescuers pulled from the water the bodies of Matteo, 36, whose wife is expecting their second child in June, and Orlando, 58, a married father of two. Coast Guard officials said they had not determined what caused the Patriot to founder, but they said the conditions - seas of 4 to 6 feet with winds of about 25 miles per hour - were probably not a factor.

Word of the deaths swept to shore, spreading from wife to wife, brother to brother, and friend to friend, tearing at this city's close-knit fishing community, where the mortal dangers of fishing are dreaded and ever-present.

Yesterday, as friends and fellow fishermen tried to soldier on, the men's families were in mourning. Standing at her dining room table, Russo's mother, Josephine, looked over photos of her son, dressed in diapers as a baby in Sicily, in white vestments as an altar boy in Gloucester, in a suit at his graduation from Gloucester High School, beaming with Giuseppina at their engagement party, and dressed in orange rubber overalls, knee-deep in cod aboard his boat.

Each time she saw a photo that moved her, Josephine Russo, who had a string of rosary beads wrapped around her, picked up the photo and kissed it or hugged it to her breast. "Oh, my son, my son!" she cried. "This is the whole story for him: grown up, married, and gone."

A friend, Francesco Groppo, put an arm around her and hugged her. A fisherman himself, he had come by with an armload of casseroles wrapped in tinfoil, part of this city's outpouring of support for the families. "The community gets together for everything," Groppo said, "in good times and bad times, but especially in bad times."

In Gloucester, where thousands of fishermen have died over the centuries, friends of Russo and Orlando said the whole city was struck by the deaths.

"It affects the whole community here," said Kevin Farless, a friend and fellow fisherman, who was crouched on a snow-crusted dock, cutting apart tangled fishing nets with a serrated knife. "They were great guys. Matt was a family man; family over everything. He took care of his boat so he could take care of his family."

Nearby, Russo's pickup truck was still in the dock's parking lot, a silent reminder of the man who never returned. Peter Parisi, a third-generation fisherman who was helping Farless cut apart the tangled nets, said the threat of death is a part of life for fishermen in Gloucester. "It's been going on for hundreds of years," he said. "You put your head down and you go on. What are you going to do? Do you quit? Do coal miners quit?"

Russo, who came to America with his family when he was 1, had been fishing since he was a boy, learning from his father, Salvatore. He started full-time after he graduated from high school.

His family had warned him of the dangers. "I told my son: Take another course and make another job," said Josephine Russo, who speaks with a strong Italian accent. "But he no listen. He love his job."

Groppo agreed there was no dissuading Matteo Russo. "He loved what he was doing," he said. "He would always talk about fishing."

Four years ago, Matteo Russo married Giuseppina Orlando, and started fishing with her father. John Orlando "was a really good fisherman, too," Groppo said, "and a hard worker, too." Giuseppina, who goes by the nickname, Josie, and Matteo Russo had a son, Salvatore, three years ago, and were anticipating the birth of their second child this summer.

Last year, Matteo bought the Patriot, which he named for his beloved New England Patriots. He hoped the solidly built boat would enable him to fish farther from shore and in rougher weather, allowing him to make a living when many local fisherman are being squeezed by federal fishing regulations that strictly limit catches.

"A lot of guys were jealous of what he had," Parisi said. "It was all high-tech stuff."

On Friday about 6 p.m.. Matteo Russo and Orlando headed out to fish for cod. At 1:45 a.m., after the Coast Guard sent out the distress call, Salvatore Russo immediately joined the search for his brother. "Instead of going to work, it was a rescue mission," Russo said.

Rescuers found Orlando's body amid loose items from the Patriots' deck at about 5:30 a.m. About seven hours later, they discovered Russo's body. Their boat was equipped with survivial suits, but the men were not wearing them. A Coast Guard investigation is ongoing.

Yesterday, as Josephine Russo wept over photos of her son, the family planned for two funerals. Groppo said everyone was trying to pull together.

"The community has been through this before," he said. "Hopefully, this will be the last time. But who knows?"