This space, which has been appropriated for my textual explorations, is dedicated to examining the delicate psyche of the 20-something. Subjects will include both young adults whom are from the Midcoast and those from away who have found Maine a stopping point along their journey. My generation (I was born in 1988) graduates college into a hostile environment: a rocky economy, job growth that is expected to slow again, shackles of debt, and the internal perils of self-reflection that seek to disrupt our lives.

The question is open-ended, no matter what anyone tells you. You have completed your education, or perhaps worked a few years since high school: what next? How does someone who has existed for a mere 20 or 26 years have the audacity to make any sort of significant decision regarding where they should or should not apply themselves?

Pretend, for a moment, that you can go anywhere and do anything. Certainly, practical reality does not usually conform to this idealistic picture, but I maintain that it is usually a hair closer than most people my age realize. My perception of young adulthood is currently characterized by the infinitude of the choices at my disposal. The extent of my options should feel like an agent of freedom, but instead weighs me down, and I become a prisoner of my own self-doubt. School debt weighs on me in many ways, perhaps, but I do not see this (perhaps naïvely) as a completely insurmountable limitation.

Fear, not commitment

I asked Kyle Murdock, the president and CEO of the Sea Hag Seafood processing plant in Tenants Harbor, what advice he would give to the young adults of our generation who feel as confounded as I do. Kyle is a friend of mine from high school, and I found intriguing his decision to drop out of the Worcester Polytechnic Institute, where he was studying theoretical physics, to start a lobster processing plant earlier this year.

His answer resonates.

“I'd say don't be afraid of commitment,” he said. “Indecision is still a decision, you're making a decision to not move on with your life because you're afraid of making a commitment.”

Kyle's dedication and commitment to his enterprise is clear. When he and I sat down to talk, it had been after a week of trying to find the right moment amidst the irregular issues that crop up while trying to run a processing plant. Kyle was waiting for parts to arrive, installing them, and setting up a generator. Finally, we found a time that worked. He had just finished setting up the generator and adjusting electrical wiring when I arrived.

“I'm the maintenance man on top of everything else,” he said.

He then told me the story of how he switched his academic commitment to putting his time and energy into opening a seafood processing plant in Midcoast Maine.

A call from the bank

In the spring and early summer of 2010, Kyle was finishing up his junior year at the Worcester Polytechnic Institute. As a physics major, he had his eye on graduate school, and the prospect of a career as a theoretical physicist ahead. Only a few months later he would be completely embroiled in a very different enterprise: entering the lobster industry.

That October, he received the news that allowed him to take that possibility seriously. He had spent the summer in Worcester, largely focused on writing a business plan, followed by a break back at home in Maine. He had then returned to Worcester and, on a fraternity outing to play paintball, amidst a rambunctious car load of friends and fraternity brothers, Kyle received a phone call.

“Just as we pulled into the parking lot of the paintball place I got a phone call that the original offer on the property had fallen through and my offer was accepted,” he said. “So, it was like, really a great moment where I was with all of my friends, and we had just been talking about how I was going to start moving back to Worcester, and I was like, “Well guess that plan's off, because I just bought a processing plant.”

'I had to consider an option that maybe finishing college was not the right decision.'

The decision to leave WPI permanently did not happen overnight, however. Kyle had fallen behind a bit in a couple of his classes, and admits that graduate school “... seemed a little unattainable at times,” he said. He had been considering alternatives to graduate school, which included finishing his education through the Navy.

“It was something I'd been thinking about for a while, even since high school,” he said.=

He had even started the final application processes required for delayed entry, which would have allowed him to complete his undergraduate studies first and then enter a training program for work on nuclear propulsion systems.

“The easiest and cheapest way to get into nuclear power is to join the navy and go to nuke school,” he said.

In addition to the military, he also gave consideration to the family trade. Both Kyle's father and brother are lobstermen.

“It's in my blood, my family does it,” said Kyle.

In October 2011, after having been out of school for a year, Kyle went to help his brother fish. Despite finding it fun at times, he quickly realized that lobster fishing was not what he wanted to do with his life. He says he realized: “You know what? I don't want to do this... By the end of November, I was like, this is not working.”

Even then, he felt the need to consider returning to WPI. During our talk, Kyle reflected back on his thought process: “I've been out of school a long time, I'm not sure if I want to go back to that life, I don't really want to leave Maine, this time.... I kind of want to stay here. I want to find a reason to stay here.”

His conclusion? He needed to get the plant operational. That would allow him to stay in Maine.

Should I stay or should I go

A permanent return to Maine from out of state seems like a big decision, especially for someone as young as Kyle or me. As a young adult, I constantly receive much-welcomed life advice from adults regarding location. I'm consistently told to travel while I'm young, not to let myself get too attached to any one place, and to get out into the world to do something significant. For a multitude of reasons, I made the decision to return home directly after college. Every day that I'm still in Camden, I feel like I have an obligation to myself to leave the comfort of Maine. In some ways, perhaps I do have an obligation. I think travel outside the Midcoast bubble is vital for a true sense of perspective.

This is a fundamental question the young people of Maine are faced with. Do we stay in this safe place, this natural wonderland, or do we venture outside?

While all of my feelings about Camden come from a place of deep love, there is no denying that it is largely a tourist town with a strong retirement community. Please don't misunderstand, I feel very, very fortunate to have grown up in this area, and to continue experiencing all it has to offer, and this community and its people have a lot to offer. Our community is also lucky to have events that draw people of all ages, such as the Camden International Film Festival, which is just one of a many events that take place in the area.

After such events end, however, there is a distinct melancholy that sets over the town. The contrast is stark. Indeed, my perception is matched by data. According to the 2010 Census of Population and Housing Characteristics, Camden has a median age of 53.2, with 2,969 of its 4,850 residents over the age of 45. Of course there is nothing wrong with this in and of itself, but it appears to me that these statistics are both symptomatic of, and an influence on, the decisions the youth of Maine are making.

The vast majority of people living in Camden are either young or old, with almost 80 percent of Camden made up by those either below the age of 18 or over 45 years old. A USA Today article, titled “Population drop-off vexes Maine residents” and juxtaposed next to pictures of Camden Harbor, puts these statistics into perspective. The article, which seeks to explain the population decline, the problems it creates, and looks at attempts to fix it, notes that, “For the first time in 209 years, neighboring New Hampshire has more people than Maine....”

State demographics have a major impact on Maine businesses. The article blames this population drop on young adults leaving the state in search of education and jobs, as well as a declining birth rate. A state economist is quoted in the article saying, “We project that in 20 years, a quarter of our population will be of retirement age or higher.” This growing problem means “... declines in tax base, the labor force and investment.” The article begins and ends with a look to attempts to entice people of working age back to Maine. This isn't just the nature of living in Maine, it is clear that this generation leakage is a continuing problem that will lead to stunted growth and development down the line.

There are other important considerations for young entrepreneurs like Kyle when they contemplate establishing their businesses in Maine. Maine currently leads the Union as the worst state for business for the third year in a row, according to a Forbes article published earlier this month. A variety of factors, including Maine's high corporate tax burden, high energy costs, the oldest population in the U.S., among others, all contribute to this dire status.

Despite some of the fairly major obstacles Maine entrepreneurs face, Kyle was, however, quick to commend the Maine Department of Economic and Community Development.

“They were there for us every step of the way, helping us to make this happen and offering whatever support we needed, which was great, to see the Maine government actually encouraging business that much,” he said.

Lobsternomics

In addition to the difficulties Maine businesses and entrepreneurs face, Kyle's processing plant, and the people it employs, are at the whim of both the market and nature. After having read about this past summer's lobster glut, I was eager to get Kyle's perspective on the reality of the situation.

He noted the effect of buying limits, meaning a lot of buyers would only purchase a certain number of lobsters from each boat, which had an exponential effect on boats with greater hauls.

“The low price did hurt everyone, but the catch limits in July were just killing the high liners,” he said.

He lamented that Sea Hag wasn't able to open their doors before August.

“I really wish we'd been able to operate then, because we might have been able to help some of the local community out in providing a market for those lobsters,” said Kyle. “We [processing plants] can't really do much to affect the price of the lobster, but we could have affected the demand in the local area.”

Compounding the situation for Maine lobstermen is the length of the Canadian season, which Kyle said lasted longer this year than it usually does. Canadian lobster fishing was productive until the end of June, which overlapped with an earlier-than-usual start to the Maine season.

According to Kyle, the lobster season here usually picks up in the second week of July, but this past summer was busy as early as the first week of June. Kyle described the cascade leading to the effects felt by area lobstermen: “There was just a huge oversupply, plus, in the larger market, the buyers had already stocked a lot of frozen product. There was very little demand, and then all of a sudden there was this massive overproduction at the live lobster level.”

He also presented a recent price fluctuation caused by the Canadian market: “Southwest Nova opened last week, and the price of Maine lobster dropped 50 cents since they opened.”

Kyle said that Southwest Nova refers to three areas around Digby, Nova Scotia, which have been consistently ripe grounds for lobster fishing this season.

“Hugely productive season, one of the most productive seasons they've ever had, so far,” he said. “There were boats coming into Digby on the first day of the season with over 11,000 pounds.”

He estimates that Digby has produced more than 1 million pounds of lobster this week. Southwest Nova's record production is corroborated by an article in The Digby County Courier.

The actions of Canadian processing plants can affect our market.

“About two weeks ago on the same day, one of the big, big plants in New Brunswick filed for bankruptcy one obviously ran into huge cash flow issues because they made a discount sale of $9 million worth of product, and discount sales hurt everyone because it drives the price down,” he said. “So, that was unfortunate, we almost had to stop operating after the discount sale.”

According to Kyle, when Hurricane Sandy physically damaged markets along the coast, the price of lobster was down for about four days. Rather than having any major adverse effect however, the lack of a market down the coast was balanced out by lower production, due to storms in the Northeast.

“There were storms here though, that kept the price up of live lobster,” he said. “Live market was dead, but production was down, so the price, which should have gone down didn't, it actually went up a little bit.”

Kyle described how often he finds that potential negative affects on the industry are often unexpectedly counterbalanced: “Every time something happens in the market that should hypothetically drive the price down, something else happens, some act of god, that drives the price up, so it just balances it out. The price has been almost the same since the beginning of October.”

When the place you grew up is no longer your home

Having grown up on Monhegan island and lived in Camden during high school, Kyle is in a particularly interesting position to offer perspective on the young adult perception of small town Maine. He described for me the moment he realized the island was no longer his home:

“I remember when I first left the island. I think it was like the summer after my junior year. I was going back to Camden for senior year of high school, and I was like, this place is not my home, anymore. This is the day. I can come back here, but it will never be home again. Right, you know, that wasn't like a conscious choice, that was just like, I'm a summer person now, at best.”

This realization gave way to excitement for the future: “I was pretty thrilled about going away in the fall.”

Despite having since reestablished himself in Maine, it wasn't like he went away only to return, like a boomerang, hurtling right back to where he started. He did gain valuable experience in the world outside of Maine. He made solid friendships at WPI that have followed him back to Maine. He was able to work in London for a summer. Getting out of Maine also allowed him to better appreciate his home state.

During our talk, I became increasingly curious about what Kyle saw as the major differences between living in small town Maine compared to the “outside world.”

Living in Tenants Harbor, Kyle's first thought was regarding transportation: “I miss being able to walk places. I miss something being just down the street and you can walk there, and not having to like get in your car and drive, not having to worry about your car getting plowed in if it's snowing out or something, and not being able to get to the store.”

There is something to be said for the ability to travel a significant distance on foot to routine destinations. I myself lived in New York City for a term during school, and loved being able to walk anywhere. There is something wonderful about that aspect of self-reliance, knowing that you have the ability to get where you need to go via nothing but your own locomotion.

However, any downside to living in a rural area is tempered for Kyle by the positive sense of community he feels. Even without asking, community support for his endeavors has been omnipresent. Kyle said: “When we were getting set up this summer, even some people I hadn't seen for like almost a year, but whom I've known my whole life, and without calling or anything they'd find this place and come and visit, just, like, excited about it. You know, this is something you cannot get anywhere else. This is what Maine is. It's a community.”

This sense of community, and Kyle's allegiance to it, also arises in a quote from The Working Waterfront, “There is no way I would've left WPI and a career if it was just for myself. I grew up in a real community. Everyone's in it together.”

Examples of Kyle's commitment to keep the plant up and running continued to punctuate our conversation. We were interrupted by telephone and knocks at the door. Kyle handled it all quite coolly. At one point, I followed him outside to a small building out front of which the generator had been set up, and watched as he worked on some of the electrical wiring. Kyle wasn't kidding, he really has taken on the responsibility of maintenance in addition to his duties as president and CEO.

He explained to me that the reason for his joy in doing this type of work is because it's the only time while running the processing plant that he's able to use his education. Anytime there is any electrical work, or work on the refrigeration system to be done, he jumps to help.

It had been the conclusion of the same conversation for years

Maine's lobster industry simply needs more in-state processing plants. That was the sentiment expressed by Governor LePage just a couple of weeks before Sea Hag Seafood opened their doors. More Maine lobster processing plants would ensure that more Maine lobster would stay in the state, relying less on Canada. Governor LePage's conclusion was the same one that Kyle and his father had reached many times before during various conversations over the previous few years.

Kyle described for me his thoughts one weekend on his way home, visiting his family from college. He anticipated exactly where the impending conversation with his father would end. But why continue to rehash the same conversation if you know exactly where it will end? “The answer we need more processing plants, begs the question why aren't there more processing plants,” Kyle said. The answer he concluded, was simple. No one had started one.

It's just an idea you have

No one had started one. After thinking about the specifics of what it would take to start a processing plant, Kyle had another thought, “All of these things that I've come up with that you would need to do, to be able to do this successfully, I think that I can do that.” He didn't say anything while home, instead avoiding the subject.

He returned to school after the visit, but a subsequent conversation with a family friend would ensure that he wouldn't be able to forget his business machinations. The family friend was someone who had worked for years in the financial and business world. The advice was direct: “What you need to do is come up with a marketable business plan, because until then, until you have, on paper a marketable business plan, it's just an idea you have.”

This hit Kyle hard, and ended up being the first major turning point for his life direction: “He threw it back to me. I think he wanted to see how serious I was about this. Kind of a sink or swim moment.”

Work on a business plan supplanted his studies. The same day he had that meaningful conversation, he kicked his plan into gear, skipping his afternoon class to work on a business plan. It was not so much a conscious choice as his passion for the idea taking over. Before he knew it, Kyle said, “I spent the next two weeks working 10 hours a day writing a business plan.”

The next step was to find the right location. He looked at a few different properties, but ended up putting in an offer on the building that used to house the Great Eastern Mussel Farm plant. Even after spending most of his summer working on the business plan, he was still technically enrolled at WPI. His offer on the place was relegated to a backup offer.

“I was looking at this project, and talking to people, and I was like, this could work, you know,” he said. “At that point I was not very confident that it would work. It could work but, if I go back to school it definitely will not work, because it will not happen.”

It was a week after classes had started and he still hadn't returned to WPI. October rolled around and Kyle finally began to think seriously about returning to school. He looked at a few other properties, but nothing seemed overly promising. “I was starting to think about maybe it's time to go back to school.” So he did. That was when he got the phone call in the parking lot of the paintball place.

I asked Kyle about what point his work on the business changed from simply something he did instead of his classwork, to a serious prospect. He says it was exactly this moment.

“When the contract got accepted on the building, and it was like, OK, this is serious now,” he said. “I'm going to buy this building, which means I need to put a plant in it, and we need to make money.”

That summer had been characterized by a period of apathy for Kyle. He remembers thinking at one point, that “[It] doesn't really matter where I end up, I guess I was just kind of drifting... ” Somewhere along the way, though, it appears that he took his own advice about commitment, because he didn't drift for long before he had the revelation that he was really OK with a return to Maine.

He was helping his girlfriend at the time move into an apartment in Hoboken, N.J., when he realized how strong his desire to return to Maine truly was.

“There is no way I can ever live in a place like this or even near a place this,” he said, about that point in time. “I need to go back to Maine now.” He realized he was equating Maine with home once again, continuing: “I don't want to be here. I want to be in Maine. I want to go home. That was refreshing. I had home to go to again,” said Kyle.

The point of no return

There were many important milestones along the journey towards Sea Hag Seafood, such as the conversation that prompted him to write a formal business plan and the phone call from the bank. The true “point of absolute no return,” though, says Kyle, was the moment he actually went to the bank to sign the loan package that would allow him to buy the equipment necessary to run a processing plant. At that moment he thought, “This is the first day of the rest of my life.”

I'm proud of Kyle, and impressed he was able to make the tough decisions along the way. The decision to drop out of school. The decision to return to Maine. And the decision to sign those loan papers. All were major steps that brought him to where he is now.

I admire Kyle because he didn't allow himself to continue to float, whether he was fishing lobster with his brother or immersing himself in his business proposal, he did not allow himself to continue to drift. Honestly, I think that's one of the big tricks to all of this, staying in motion. I think there is a need, much like a shark has, to maintain forward momentum, no matter what it might be you to choose to do at any one point along the way. Even if that motion is punctuated by periods of floating, it is the maintenance of some direction that seems most important.

I still had to ask him if he had any doubts. Doubt has colored my entire young adult life, and I can't imagine anyone can commit to such an endeavor as he has and not feel an iota of doubt.

His doubts appear minimal, contained to the moments when the going is the hardest. He described his thoughts for me early in the process, admitting he had moments where he thought, “... what did I sign up for,” noting that his commitment to the project was a major motivational force: “Even when you get exasperated with it, because you've made that commitment, you have the motivation to get up and to go do it. You're not always going to be happy with your decision but, you go and do it because you made that decision, you own it. Just like everything else in life, there will be good parts and bad parts.”

Wave-particle duality

What about his interest in physics? He jumps at any chance to do work around the plant that utilizes any part of his education, does he still think about a return to academics?

“That was part of why I came and did this, is that I didn't have to close any doors on anything,” he said. “I withdrew from WPI, I can always go back.”

When pressed further about this possibility Kyle told me, “I still have some work that I want to do with physics. I had just started to formulate an interesting theory related to wave-particle duality when I dropped out of school. Yeah, I'd like to go back and investigate that and see if I can actually prove something.”

He still keeps up with physics-related news. When talking about physics his demeanor changes. There's no mistaking the passion in his voice. His manner is a little sprightlier, his talking speeds up, his answers are no longer the slow, thoughtful responses he has been giving up until now. He tells me of his excitement over the fact that he was recently able to rope a few of his friends into a conversation about physics: “I never get to use what I did in college or talk about it. Even when I was in college I rarely ever got to talk about it with anyone that cared or understood. And these guys at least had the decency to feign interest, if they weren't really interested.”

What the future holds

At the end of our conversation, I asked Kyle if he would be willing to do a follow up discussion for a future column about four months down the line. He readily agreed, and it couldn't be more perfect, because about four months from now is when Sea Hag will be gearing up for their new season. Kyle explained, "We'll probably keep going steady through January and then we'll be shut down probably most of February."

In a later Facebook message, Kyle described this impending shut down as Sea Hag's next great challenge: "Our biggest hurdle is coming up which is seasonal shut down. This will be our first one, and we will still have all the cost of the plant being here, salaries, utilities, etc. but no profit coming in to offset them." According to Kyle, the plant has been making money fine since day one but, as a new plant, they don't have the cash reserves built up that other plants would normally rely on to get them through the off season. I look forward to speaking with Kyle again and seeing what the future holds for Sea Hag Seafood.

To read more about Kyle Murdock and his business endeavors, check out earlier articles printed in the Portland Press Herald, The Working Waterfront, and Bangor Daily News.

William J. Welte is a relatively recent college graduate and recovering English major currently living and freelance writing in his hometown of Camden. He is a sequential art and Bauhaus enthusiast. He can be reached at wjwelte@gmail.com.