Homage to the Herring

6/7/09

The herring is a beautiful fish. With all the stained glass in the world, man could not duplicate the brilliant colors with which this remarkable creature is endowed. No oil sheen, rock crystal, rainbow, not even a peacock tail feather comes close to the dazzling luster of the herring. Shining a glittering iridescent, the hues are constantly changing as light refracts off the surface of its scales. This fish shines magnificent even on the cloudiest of days! I have seen millions of these fish by now, but I never cease to be amazed by their splendor, especially when I take the time to examine one closely. As I hold a gasping creature in my hands, a sense of guilt overcomes me. I apologize for taking its life and that of its many brethren, and thank it for providing me my means of living. I rotate it about, and the different angles of sunlight reveal the countless shades of color.  Streaks of midnight, royal, and sky blue intermingle with tints of purple, glimmerings of green, and flecks of yellow. Shimmering scales of silver and grey merge into a pure white underbelly.  Depending on area of habitation, herring have a lifespan of about 15 years. They are born in kelp beds and reefy shorelines. They swim to deep seas, feeding on planktonic creatures and small krill, and they reach sexual maturity somewhere around 3 years. They return to their spawning grounds every year, and just like most fish, females first lay their eggs and the males then fertilize them. They do this in such great numbers that they turn entire bays a milky white with their spawning juices. It is a miraculous sight to see hundreds of thousands of fish wriggling and writhing about in the shallows, procreating together in one gigantic orgy. The herring we were fishing in Togiak journey all the way out to the Aleutian islands, hundreds of miles away. They swim together in massive schools,  often millions in number. It is truly fascinating how they move together. Jamie calls it a “collective mind”. It is as if they make their decisions on direction, depth, and destination simultaneously. Once they decide to dive, there are no nets capable of holding them. There were countless times they pulled our corks deep down under the surface allowing hundreds of tons to escape.  The herring industry is by no means simple. There are many things that have to come together in order to make the entire operation work. Such factors include ecology, economy, coordination of Fish and Game and fishermen, the politics of finding a market with the few competing corporate buyers, and coordinating the convention of fuel barges, tenders, processors and trampers. Not to mention the difficulties of actually catching the fish, having a reliable vessel and equipment, and finding a competent crew and spotter pilot. The course of these fish from when they are first caught in Alaskan waters to when they end up on a dinner plate thousands of miles away is a long and complicated one, and they pass through many hands.

The first step in the process is finding the fish. Herring often swim close to the surface in schools of great number and appear from an aerial viewpoint as swathes of dark ribbon contrasted against the blue-green hue of the ocean. Usually most boats hire a spotter pilot, who is generally paid a percentage of the catch. The pilots find the fish, direct the fishermen to the location, and through precise radio communication tell them where and when to let their nets out. Often there will be seven or eight planes in the air circling above schools of fish, guiding the boats far below.  The proximity of so many airplanes together seems like a recipe for disaster, and I asked Jamie if he had ever seen any collisions. He had seen one in 92, and has known two other pilots who have crashed in previous years. There hasn’t been an accident in a long time though, as there are fewer pilots and fewer boats then there used to be.  Often weather conditions won’t permit the pilots to fly.  It becomes much harder for the fisherman then, as he has to rely on his sonar to be able to locate and then accurately set his net around schools of fish. Jamie has one of the most high-tech sonars in Alaska. It cost him $50,000 and there are only two in the state. The other one belongs to Fish and Game Management. Although having the best equipment is a huge advantage, it is by no means a guarantee, and the fish can be very difficult to catch in this manner. We fish using a seign, a length of net with a cork line on top to keep it afloat, and a lead line on bottom to sink and spread out the web. There are restrictions on the size of a seign depending on the area being fished. Jamie has four different seigns- one for Sitka, one for Kodiak, one for Togiak, and one for Prince William Sound.  Our Togiak seign is 100 fathoms long and 15 fathoms deep. One fathom is approximately 6 feet. One end of the seign is connected to the boat, while the other end is connected to a skiff(small boat). When a school is located, the objective is to release the skiff, circle around the school of fish with the big boat, and reconnect the ends of the seign upon meeting back up with the skiff. There are many factors to consider, including depth of water, direction of fish, currents and tides, the quality of bottom(whether it will snag the seign and shred it)and many more such concerns.  There is a line threaded through the bottom of the seign called the “purse line”. By means of hydraulics this is then pulled tight, scrunching the bottom of the net together, allowing the fish no means of escape.  The net then is slowly hauled back on board, once again by means of hydraulics. It is my job to ensure the seign is neatly stacked on the back of the boat , corks on one side, leads on the other, so it will go out smoothly the next time without entangling itself. The Shadowfax is 58 feet long and 16 feet wide. I have about 15 feet of room on the back deck and I must stack the seign accordingly, usually stomach to chest high. Most of the time I just stack the corks, and the lead-line falls by itself into a pile alongside. During the entire process of stacking gear, the skiff man has disconnected himself from the seign and connected himself to the big boat with a “tow-line”. It is his job to ensure that the boat does not drift on top of the net, as well as to keep the net billowed out in a orderly circle so it comes in right. Once we have shrunk the net size considerably, there is a “bag” of fish alongside the boat. We can catch up to several hundred tons a set.  We take 3 to 5 samples of the fish to determine if they are mature and ready to be taken. Herring are utilized primarily for their roe. In order for our catch to be suitable, there must be a certain percentage of females, a certain percent of roe content by weight, and an overall percentage of ripe roe. One can determine that roe is ripe when it is a bright yellow color. We have to break the fish open to establish this, an act which in itself is quite brutal. After killing hundreds of fish in this manner, I still haven’t become desensitized, and I feel terrible doing it. But it is necessary because the processors don’t want to buy immature and spawned out fish that are unmarketable. We radio in our sample results and it is the buyer’s decision whether the fish are suitable. If they aren’t, we let them go. If they are, we call in a tender, which is basically a big delivery boat. Many of them are off-season crabbing vessels hired out by the companies who buy our fish. A company called “Icicle” was our buyer in Togiak. There are other competing companies with amusing names such as “Peter-pan”, “Western Fisheries”, “Ocean Beauty”, “Trident”, “Leader Creek Fisheries”, “Yardarm Knot”,  “Norquest”, “Alaska Pacific Seafood”, “Sno-Pac”, as well as others whose names I have not yet heard. The tenders pull alongside our bag of fish, and proceed to pump them out of our net with a machine designed for such a purpose.  This can be exceedingly difficult as well as dangerous in poor weather conditions, an occurrence which happened to us several times. Upon completion of the offload the company gives us a receipt of however many tons are pumped, for which we are later paid.  Our part of the entire process is now complete.

The tenders generally have capacity of up to 250 tons a load. They take the fish to processors, gigantic floating factories where the fish are frozen and packaged into crates. These vessels usually have about 300 employees taking shifts so they can run as a 24 hour operation. These crates are in turn loaded onto even bigger Japanese ships, called “trampers”. They used to take the fish to China where the roe was stripped and sent to Japan. The Chinese utilized the carcasses, primarily canning or drying them for food. Due to all the recent health scares and absence of regulations in China, the Japanese have begun to process their own fish. They separate the roe by boiling the frozen fish in giant 50 ton vats.  The ensuing slurry comes out on conveyor belts and workers commence picking out the skeins, the individual sacs of roe, which have hardened into a rubbery substance. These are then immersed in vats of salt and categorized by quality. Quality is determined by color of the roe and whether the skeins are intact. What is considered to be the finest roe is that where skeins are unbroken, exhibit a rich tone of golden amber, and have maintained their perfect original shape. The roe, called “Kazinoko”, is considered a delicacy in Japan and is most commonly dried onto rice crackers. It is tradition to give the high quality roe away during the New Year holiday in extravagant gift packs elaborately packaged in cedar boxes.  The worth of such a gift in US currency is two to three hundred dollars. Such packs contain only 4 or 5 skeins. As there are 2 skeins per fish, it is hard to imagine the monetary value of the herring with all the millions that pass through our hands! 

Yet when I look at these magnificent animals, the last thing that comes to my mind are dollar bills. I see a creature, a living thing; an entity very similar to myself with whom I share this same world. I wonder how different that spark of life within this fish, that will to live, to swim, to reproduce, is from the spark of life within myself-my own will to live, to seek adventure, and my basic human need for love. We both have the same fundamental desire to survive, to thrive, and put simply, to exist.  Is this not the most universal urge that moves life forward on this planet, and does it not equivalently encompass the full spectrum of all life on earth? Though such speculation can only ever be left to conjecture, philosophy, and ideology, my experiences out here have compelled me to believe that I am not far removed from this living being whose life I take with utmost respect and gratitude .

wheelwatch wit

6/3/09

I spent several shifts at the wheel now, an experience I enjoy very much. At times it allows for quiet and solitary reflection on life, and at other times sheer boredom of watching the minutes pass. It was on one such night on the “Lucky Star”  I kept myself entertained and awake by lumping as many s-words as I could into the ultra tongue twister.  

“Surging through the sparkling seas, 

Slumber steals over us oh so sly!

Soporific sounds from the engine soothe the soul,

And sleep slips over the ship. Slowly, silence.

Suddenly the serenity is snapped and sailors speedily assemble,

Stumbling to soberness from their sleepy stupors.

The ship, strangely slanted, surfs onto the sharp stones of the shore,

And as initial shock spoils and sours into shared sentiments of sadness and shame

The sea seeps in and the scuttled ship sinks slowly down

Into the silky sallow silt of the sandy shallows-

A certain suffocating sorrow ensues as the solemn situation spirals into somber shambles!

lonely liberation

6/1/09

Although I feel I have wasted a lot of my time with movies and tv shows, I have occupied much of my time by reading. I am reading a number of books including Thoreau’s “Walden”, a Tom Brown book, and a book about a modern Sioux medicine man and his traditional methods of healing. I just finished another book that made a profound impression on me. It is so strange, but sometimes it seems as if books find a way into my hands just when I need to read them. Many times it seems they match up with my sentiments, and often I really identify to a particular message that seems very pertinent to my personal life. One of the best things about reading is coming away from the words and experiences of others encouraged or a bit more clearheaded. This particular book was Reinhold Messner’s account of his solo climb of Nanga Parbat. It was about far more than just the climbing aspect, but the experience as a whole. About him facing his own fear, and using his immense loneliness to his advantage. I love his way of writing. I feel I can relate to him. He always seems to notice the beauty that surrounds him, he constantly raises questions about himself and everything society says, and he strives to live in the moment. What some would call arrogance on his part, I find as honesty. I think he is the greatest mountaineer this world has ever seen. Here are a  few quotes I have taken away from his book:

“I can’t live my daily life like other people. It would finish me. That’s why I go my own way; only when I am doing what’s right for me, can I feel strong. I don’t know where this strength comes from, and I don’t try to explain it; its enough that its there, I use it. Till now I have found my full strength in wild gorges, high lonely valleys and high mountain country.” 

“Its only when you live alone that you can go your own way, completely make your own decisions, and take full responsibility for them.” 

“Anyone who can keep hold of his religion has been very lucky-or unlucky.” 

“Nor is it easy to give up a world I’m used to and find another for myself in order to be able to carry on living. I have clung desperately to everything for too long and in the process worn myself out and those to whom I have held fast. Now I want to play my own game, without hesitation, without regret, and I want to play it, even if on Nanga Parbat I lose.” 

“Loneliness is a force that can kill you if you are unprepared for it, but it will carry you beyond your own horizon if you understand how to use it to your advantage.”

“…in the high mountains the desperate business of living can be transcended by the sheer joy of being alive. In such moments one can discover god inside oneself.”

“There is a right way of life for each one of us. Whoever finds his own way and has the courage to follow it can’t go far wrong. Its just that most people get talked out of who they really are.”

“As soon as one ceases to cling to things or worry about oneself and others, when one no longer strives towards progress, towards building things; if one can cut free of his own past-then one doesn’t need a home beyond one’s own mind.”

“There are five requirements for a lonely bird: 

the first that he flies to the highest point; 

the second that he doesn’t yearn for company, even of his own kind; 

the third, that he points his beak towards heaven; 

the fourth, that he has no specific color of his own;

the fifth, that he sings very softly.” --San Juan de la Cruz

“The art of walking lies in going the right way; that’s where you find your friends and where you are strong; let yourself go in the direction you feel able to go, if at all possible. If you find your own way and travel by it, strength, direction, and purpose are yours, and nothing and no one can hold you back.” 

--Mohammed Tahir, Baluchi from Queta

aelous unleashed

5/31/09

I haven’t written a word for the past 2 weeks. And the previous entries were exceedingly brief considering I could have filled many pages describing my wonderful experiences. I almost feel guilty for not writing more about this significant time in my  life, but at the same time I think it is good I don’t  feel bound to.  I am undergoing a great deal of personal growth and change during this period, and though at times I regret that many of my thoughts and experiences have gone unrecorded, I feel that even if a profound thought here or a magical experience there might be forgotten,  they can never be lost-they become part of me, or I become them. Everything that is happening to me is playing a part in shaping me. My various moods, attitudes, sights, smells(mainly fish), feelings, memories, books I am reading, dreams, interactions with my co-inhabitants and all the animals and sea creatures out here, and my contact in general to all the life surrounding me-this is my reality. And my reality is so far removed from that of the rest of the world that I don’t think it is possible to fully describe it. I find myself at the end of another day on the Shadowfax, and though I will now try and describe the happenings of today, I will never truly be able to convey the wonder that enraptured my soul. We have been fishing in a place called Port Moller for the last 3 days on the west side of the Alaskan Peninsula. There have been unbelievable amounts of fish here. Jamie has fished these waters for 30 years and has never seen this many thousands of tons of herring here. In the last 3 days, together with our partner boat the “Valkyrie” we have caught around 1500 tons of herring. Needless to say it has been pretty constant work. I pulled my first 24 hour day of the season(or at least close enough). I had been on wheelwatch since 2 am, fished that entire next day and got to bed around midnight, only to get up early the next morning to grind away. I even got chewed out because I was moving a little slower, which goes to show feeling sorry for yourself doesn’t get you anywhere in that kind of situation because no one else has any pity.  It is easier to write about it then to experience it though. It is a test of character as dad would say, and the moments I found myself wallowing in self-pity were the worst. Nobody cares, every one is tired, and it’s what we do. We are fishermen. It’s our livelihood. There is no room for complaining. Jamie’s favorite quote comes out of the movie ‘Master and Commander’ when Russell Crowe says, “quick’s the word and chop’s the action!” Anyways, today was pretty neat. This morning there was a full rainbow out for at least half an hour. What was strange was that there was neither a splash of sunlight nor a patch of blue sky anywhere. It was as if an artist had painted these beautiful colors onto a canvas that was the grey clouds swallowing the horizon, producing an almost artificial effect. The contrast was miraculous. We began fishing, yet it was a very frustrating day in that aspect. The weather was not cooperating, and it was far to windy for our spotter pilot to fly.  We had to look for fish with our sonar. And by the time we finally wrapped up a school of 200 plus tons, it was blowing a solid 50 knots out(60 or so mph). Hooking up to the tender was a nightmare. The net was heavy, the swell was heavy, the winds were heavy, the ability of the knuckledragging tender crew was heavy, and Jamie’s stress level was heavy. The boats were groaning, metal boat hooks were broken, lines were snapping(including their heavy duty tie up line to the stern), Jamie’s new tophouse was almost destroyed, and the incompetent tender drove over the net and ripped it out. We lost the entire set, and now the mood was heavy. But not for me. I was absolutely enthralled by this wind. Eric, skipper of our partner boat, tried a set and was successful, as was his encounter of hooking up to the tender. Mike and I assisted him by towing the bow of the tender away from the side of the Valkyrie to prevent  him from getting smashed by the tender with each swell as it pulled along side. It was a thrill to be in that skiff, pulling full throttle into the heavy chop with whitecaps spraying over the bow, the wind howling away all the while. Later, as we were traveling down the coast looking for a haven to anchor, we came across hundreds of walruses lounging on a beach. They were wallowing about on top of each other, whilst a few frolicked in the water. It is amazing how their clumsiness on land disappears the moment they touch the water. Driving further down the coast, we came across the carcass of a beached whale. There were 3 huge golden bears on scene, and as our boat approached they proceeded to scramble up the steep beach bluffs in flight. One of them made it while the other two were distraughtly trapped halfway up a perilous section. I felt bad for them, hoped they would make it down alright, and apologized inwardly for interrupting their dinner. We finished out our day by mending the net on the back deck to weirdly shaped cloud formations and blustery wind. An overwhelming wave of refreshment flooded my soul. I am so happy to be out on this boat. I am so happy to be a fisherman for the time being, even if it is not my life’s calling. I am so happy to be away from the problems of the world.  

bladder relief

5/15/09

Its 1 am. Got up to take a leak. The ocean is glassy calm; the sky, a dark navy blue merging into the inky shadows of night. The sounds of my trickling fountain splashing the ocean seem strangely magnified in this vast blanket of space and magnitude in which I now find myself. I lift my groggy eyes and notice a city of lights on the water. There are 20 or so tenders anchored up together about 500 yards off our port. However paradoxical the presence of these steel hulks may seem in this pristine setting, the distant hum from their generators combined with the mirrored reflection of their lights shining in the water are incongruously beautiful. There is something enchanting about this scene-something weirdly entrancing. Exactly what it is that has captivated me I have no idea. The only reason I care to interrupt my desire to go back to sleep is because I find my reaction to this sight uncharacteristic of my usual human-despising self, hence I find it worth noting. However, I fully intend to go back to my dreamland now, so I will let my last thoughts be on the fam before I “slip into silent slumber, sail on silvery mists”(oh how I love the jungle book)

travel tales

5/13/09

Made it to Togiak yesterday morning. It was beautiful traveling weather. We got way lucky says Mike. He said last year’s trip was miserable. Crummy conditions are fun for a little bit but days on end are exhausting. At any rate we had a wonderful trip-one I will not forget. Beautiful sunsets. Shining moons. Lopping the heads off bloated gargantuan walrus corpses. Pushing and shoving our way through many harrowing miles of Bering Sea ice. Taking my turn at the helm in pea-soup fog. Wheel watch reflection. Scary hookah diving. T-bone steaks. Chocolate ice-cream. And best of all being in King Cove for a couple hours on mothers day so I could call mom.  I was so grateful for that. This was my first time through False Pass. The current absolutely rips through there!  A fairy-tale rock structure near Chignik appropriately named Castle Cape made quite an impression on me. Another sight that astounded me was a raft of about 200 sea otters clinging to a bed of kelp in Whale Pass. It reminded me of Brian Jaques Redwall series. Since we have been traveling I have seen about 40 or 50 whales, most of them humpbacks. They are everywhere here in Togiak. Not to mention the thousands of tons of herring…

"the future is comin on, is comin on, is comin on"

5/6/09

Today I am thoughtful. We have been in the Village Islands the last couple of days in Uganik Bay, which is still Kodiak island. It has been frustrating dealing with the management of these fisheries. They are not opening certain waters where there is clearly enough fish, and it looks as if they are favoring the locals by waiting until part of the fleet(us and a few others) leave for Togiak. Jamie is almost sure  that once we are gone, they are going to open it.  The area that has remained open is pretty much spawned out. We have made a few sets and probably caught a hundred tons worth of fish, but have had to let them all go as they are mixed bags-spawn outs, immature, and ripe all mixing together in the same schools. We decided to quit playing the waiting game with the management, so we took off today for Togiak. We are traveling down the Shelikof Strait, which is in between Kodiak Island and the Alaskan Peninsula. We will travel all the way down to False Pass, which is right by the Long Sanak Islands if you are looking at a map. From here we cross the Bering Sea to our final destination, Togiak Bay. Its about 4 days worth of traveling, so a lot of time to think, eat, sleep, read, and watch movies. It is a beautiful day today and I can scarce spend it inside. I sat on deck for a few hours contemplating, or as good ol’ Bob Love would say, ruminating. Its amazing how being in a place like here affects me in comparison to the week I spent in town. I was a bit of a wreck during my time in town-vulnerable and emotional, yet out here I seem to have a clearer head. I become myself.  I am still vulnerable and emotional, yet am able to come to grips with life much easier, much more naturally. I tend to become so wrapped up and self involved with my questions, suffering, and feelings when I am in an environment like a town or city, yet things are much more simplified when I am out here. None of it matters when I realize I am just a small part of this great life around me, a speck in this great planet, a flash of time in this great universe.  I guess it just takes getting outside for me to realize that. I am grateful to be alive, and there is no reason to spend any of my precious time moping about what I have lost, what I have wasted, or what I am going to do with my life. Living in the moment, for the moment, during the moment is what I strive to do, but it is not always as easy as it is to write about it. I just watched a movie called “Lost in Translation” and I took a quote away from it that will stick with me for a long time to come. “The more you know who you are and what you want, the less you let things upset  you.” I am discovering a bit more about myself with each new day, and I am deciding what I want out of Life. I have always questioned the big picture, always moaned about how I have no idea what I “want to do with my life”, yet staring into the wake of our ship today, I realized I have to chill out,  take “baby steps”, not worry about it. Mike tells me I am way too hard on myself and way too self critical. Maybe he is right. Learning acceptance and how to move past difficult events with grace and maturity often take a lifetime, but why not start now? And why worry so much about the future? It will unfold either way, no matter if we cause ourselves stress about it or not. So I got to thinking, what are the things I want from Life? Why not begin  to tackle them one at a time, season by season, year by year, and before I know it will I be able to look back with satisfaction? I want to learn how to build. I have always wanted to build my dream house, yet fantasizing, dreaming, is not going to get me there. So I ask myself, what kind of building?  What I need to know for my future abode is not standard building, so would I be wasting my time by starting with basic framing? Who do I need to seek out?  Where and how can I find the right carpenter from whom I can soak up as much knowledge as I possibly can? What about sailing? What do I need to learn? About boats? About navigation? About the sea? I am already on a boat, and I need to take away as much as I can from this experience-be proactive beyond just my duties and chores as a deckhand.  What about hunting? I have learned a little bit from Gary so far, but what do I need to know now? For starters, my own gun would help. So I need to buy a gun. What kind? Who do I need to talk to? Where can I find a good deal? I have already dealt with these questions, but these are the thought processes going through my head. Bow hunting is what I really want to do, but I think I need to build experience with a firearm; starting with the basic skill-levels before skipping to a higher skill-level. What about mountaineering? What do I need to know? How do I begin acquiring the skills? Safety is the primary concern, so when is the next avi-class and where?  What equipment do I need and who do I need to seek out? Where can I find the mentor I need? What about climbing and surfing? How can I improve? When, where, and for how long should my next trip be? What can I do now in my current situation about physical conditioning, saving me effort and energy that could be used fine-tuning technique when I am at my next destination? What about the kind of knowledge I seek like primitive living skills, wilderness skills, medicinal herbal skills?  How do I approach these?  Breaking my life down into fine details like this sometimes helps me from being completely overwhelmed by the mystery of my future.