A Legacy We Can All Be Proud Of

By Janna Norman, NCFA Education Coordinator

Clyde Robinson Potter was a good man; just ask anyone who knew him.

One of eight children (four boys and four girls), Clyde Potter was born on October 25, 1898, in South Creek, North Carolina, spending his formative years in the South Creek-Aurora area, and died on August 1, 1974 in Belhaven, North Carolina.

Clyde married Pearl Randolph, a teacher from the mountains of Yancey County, in 1922. Mrs. Potter, affectionately called Bill for reasons unknown, played a vital role in Clyde's personal and professional legacy.

"Mrs. Potter was a clever lady," recalls Gloria Gray, longtime Potter employee and friend and part heir to Belhaven Fish and Oyster Company, "She was intricate in the running of the office." Bill often ran the Belhaven home and company alone while Clyde personally looked after other out-of-state business ventures. Her financial savvy saved the family business from going belly up on one occasion, when she was able to invest thousands of dollars she had squirreled away back into the business. Belhaven Fish and Oyster Company was rejuvenated, a rejuvenation that lasted into the early 90's.

Clyde and Bill had two children, a boy and a girl.  Clyde, Jr. and Gwendolyn were both very successful in the local area; he became a highly renowned surgeon while she became the first woman CPA in the area. As adults in their sixties, the Potter children became gravely ill and were hospitalized within thirty miles of one another.   In a bizarre occurrence, Clyde, Jr. and Gwendolyn Potter both passed away on May 12, 1986. Pearl Potter passed away a little over a year later on December 4, 1987.

When asked how she managed to visit one child in the hospital then go thirty minutes up the road to visit the other, Gloria says Mrs. Potter would answer in typical Bill fashion, "You do what you have to do."  Words all too indicative of the Potter family, which, according to Gloria, was "a unique and strong family".

Ask Capt. Walter O'Neal of Belhaven, a retired commercial fisherman who worked for and with Clyde for many years, about his friend; and he will tell you that Clyde Potter was a knowledgeable boat person, a prosperous dealer, and good for the business. But not before he talks about what a good man and friend Clyde was.

Fishermen immediately took to the charismatic entrepreneur, who got his start on the water as a commercial fisherman, not as a ferryman like his father, Ben Potter. Clyde fished for oysters from a sailboat since it was illegal to harvest oysters with an engine-powered boat. Clyde's brothers worked the water with him as commercial fishermen, beginning a new Potter tradition in a very traditional industry.

In the early 1930's, Clyde Potter and brother Harold, or Hal, tested the waters again, trying their luck at packing and selling seafood this time rather than harvesting it. Potter Brother's Seafood, a seafood dealership business, in Washington, North Carolina, was the result.   This venture was perfect for Clyde, who had found his niche. It combined his relatively new love of commercial fishing with his clever sense of business, deep regard for people, and unquenchable thirst for success. With Potter Brother's Seafood, Clyde Potter was well on his way to becoming a permanent fixture in the commercial fishing industry.

Clyde, after obtaining early success with Potter Brother's Seafood, struck out on his own in the late 1930's. He opened a new seafood dealer's business in Belhaven, the town he and his wife and kids called home. Shortly after in 1939, he relocated this business to Wynn's Gut, another Belhaven site, establishing Belhaven Fish and Oyster Company - the feather in Clyde's cap.

Belhaven Fish and Oyster Company initially handled fish, shrimp, and oysters. When oysters didn't pan out for the company, they were replaced with crabs that did. Fish, shrimp, and crabs became the primary mainstays.   Gloria Gray, part owner when it permanently closed its doors in 1992, says that the Company's biggest selling products were handpicked, steamed crabmeat and shrimp.   The crab scrap was used to make crab meal, which was often blended for high-protein animal feeds then sold.

With a booming business underway at home, the forward-thinking Clyde looked toward expansion.

Clyde built a fleet of shrimp trawlers - some of the biggest boats, at 55-60 feet, there were around at the time.   Many of his most legendary trawlers were named after the people he most loved, respected, and appreciated.   The "Clyde, Jr." and "Gwendolyn" were named after his children; the "Capt. John Duke" was named after a crack pot commercial fisherman who worked for Potter for many years, the "Bill Ellison" after a fisheries manager, and the "Herbert C. Bonner" after a United States Representative from Beaufort County who was instrumental in orchestrating the return of Clyde's son from active war duty. (Clyde, Jr. suffered from a crippling illness while overseas. He recovered from this illness and lived a normal life until contracting the illness that would eventually kill him.) And of course the "Bill," a smaller fishing craft rather than a trawler, was named after his beloved wife.

"It was nothing to see 30-40 trawlers tied up at Clyde's," recalls Lonnie Hodges, another Belhaven resident and retired commercial fisherman, "Some were Clyde's, but not all of them."

Clyde was just the sort of person everyone liked and trusted, and his business flourished because of it.   Fishermen wanted to work and pack out with him, and retailers and consumers wanted to buy from him.

Clyde's fleet worked Atlantic Ocean and Gulf of Mexico waters from North Carolina to Alabama, while 10-wheeler trucks he acquired carried his seafood to retailers and consumers all over the Eastern Seaboard including those in New York, Baltimore, and Philadelphia.

By the early 1940's, Potter's shrimp fleet was working North Carolina waters during the summer season and heading south during the winter season. During February and March, the fleet would come home to saddle up for the upcoming seasons.   For several years, Potter's fleet tied up and packed out in Gulf Shores, Alabama, in the winter season at a packinghouse operated by Potter himself, while his Belhaven interests were overseen by his wife, Bill.

Clyde switched gears again in the 50's, repositioning southern headquarters to Stock Island near Key West, Florida. This time, rather than do it himself, Clyde hired fleet managers to supervise winter shrimp production off of Stock Island.  

For accommodation, Clyde opened a packinghouse in Engelhard, North Carolina, where his fleet could tie up and pack out.   He also opened another Belhaven Fish and Oyster Company in Morehead City, North Carolina, that functioned in a similar capacity to his business in Belhaven; in addition to providing a place to tie up and pack out, this location also engaged in retail.

Clyde Potter's proof was in the pudding; handling seafood and "handling" people was what he did best.

Clyde cared about the future of the industry because the future of the people he cared about depended on it; he was interested in what was going on. The wise businessman recognized, as did all of the original signers of NCFA's Articles of Incorporation, the telltale signs of a changing industry. And not all of it was good.

The same "fantastic," charismatic personality that helped him in business helped him in activism. The man who easily made friends with fishermen easily made friends with influential people, and the man who wasn't afraid to take risks in the name of expansion wasn't afraid to take risks in the name of salvation, the salvation of a commercial fishing industry, people, and new-claimed tradition.

It was, and still is, important for the commercial fishing industry to find a strong, united voice, and Clyde Potter helped lead the search.

Yeah. Clyde Potter was a good man. The sort of man you were glad you knew if you knew him, or wished you had if you hadn't. He forever changed the commercial fishing industry and its close knit-community, leaving us all a legacy we can be proud of.