Reflecting From A More Comfortable Seat

Walter N Rockfish Boat

It has been about a month since I last observed on a boat, but I think the last one was as noteworthy as any, as it was something new and different. My first two boats were factory boats fishing for flatfish and cod out of Kodiak and Dutch Harbor, respectively. My last one was a much smaller; less than 100 feet, with only three crew members, and fished for rockfish out of Kodiak- which is what I initially thought I was going to do straight out of training, as my peers had done. It is a very different experience than what I had come from. Food was much more “fend for yourself” than the other boats which had a designated cook that supplied you with 4 meals a day. Fishing trips were much shorter, as the boat could fill up after 3 full nets. They didn’t fish in weather and would stay much closer to shore, about half a day away and as a result, we were expected to sample everything. This gave me an opportunity to make good use of my time and do some hiking and fishing with some friends. I hiked to the top of Kashevaroff Mountain overlooking Kodiak. It was one hell of a day hike, and reminded my how out of shape I am with respect to cardio. It was well worth it in the end, though. It was so incredibly windy on the North Western side of the peak, that I could lean over, and it would hold me up. But if you walk 10 feet to the other sheltered side of the peak, it was dead calm. Also went fishing with my good friend Bryan and caught my first Kodiak salmon- a nice sized Silver.

Top of Mount Kashevaroff

I had planned to stay in Alaska until just before Christmas on a longliner, which is notoriously difficult. But the unexpected death of my aunt brought me home early, as soon as my short time on this boat ended. In a way, I am glad I came home early, as I was already tired and this boat was much more laid back than what I had come from. It was a good place to end my first length of time in Alaska.

Debriefing in Seattle was the first time I had been at such low latitude since my training, and it was nice to hang out with some friends for a while. But I really just needed to get debriefing done as quickly as possible so I could get home. Luckily I had very little data to go over, so they were very accommodating. I write this entry from the same comfortable chair as I wrote my very first, thinking back on all the places I have written from in the interim. This job has in only 8 months, provided me with some incredible experiences both at sea and on land. I will be likely returning to Alaska in February, but am also thinking about adventures elsewhere…

Moose!

Westchester Lagoon

I have been in Anchorage for some time now and finally have my appointment set to debrief. I once again have the apartment to myself which has been nice- for the first few days. I love the silence and solitude, absent of the incessant hum and sometimes roar of the diesel engines, the sound of the pots clanking against the side of the boat as they are retrieved from the water, and the metallic scrape of them sliding back into the water as they are redeployed. But it does get old, as I have no one to interact with and I have done most things of interest that are within walking distance. I confess, an amount of boredom has definitely set in as I await debrief and redeployment. Yesterday, in an effort to abate the monotony of the day, I went on a walk to the Tony Knowles Coastal Trail. I refuse to say I bit off more than I could chew, but the trip was quite a bit more of a walk than I had expected, as I did not do much of any planning ahead of time. Round trip, it was about 12 miles.

One of my complaints of the last couple months has been that I have not seen any bear or moose (from a safe distance of course), which are supposed to be somewhat common sights here in Alaska; especially because a couple of my other observer friends had seen them. I had hoped to see one along this trail, as it is where my friend made his sighting. After walking to the tip of the peninsula to the airport and admiring the spectacular view of Cook Inlet; the nicely rounded snow-capped mountain in the foreground, and it's more distant, entirely white, and craggy neighbors, I couldn't help but be slightly disappointed at not having seen one.

Coastal estuary along trail

I began my trip back, this time veering inland on the trail that would take me to the urban route home. I was talking to my sister on the phone (I may have even expressed discontent in my moose-less sightings to her) when about half an hour into my walk, I saw this dark brown shape moving off in the distance by the road. I told her "I'll call you back, I think there's a moose!" Sure enough,

The Moose!

there it was. It was at a safe distance and was quite unconcerned with my presence, and the presence of the cars that were flying by, as well as stopping in the middle of the road right next to it to take pictures. After taking my fill of photographs, I happily continued on my way back to civilization and somewhere to eat. I was talking to my girlfriend, sharing my exciting news, and she graciously saved me from starvation and found for me a restaurant called "The Rustic Goat" on the street I was on that I stopped into. The food, ambiance, and decor was quite nice. They provided the food I needed to get home, and the beer I needed to take the bite off the low/mid-thirties cold that was setting in, as the sun had long since fallen. All that remained was to get home, and I did. Out of the boredom came a very eventful day.

The Rustic Goat

In Retrospect...

Every bracket of time presents experiences unique from the last. This last and final trip on the pot processor Bountiful out of Dutch Harbor was no different. Out of the last month and a half, I have been on land but two short days, and am happy for this temporary respite until I give it one last hard push before returning home for Christmas. As I said in my previous post, this boat presented many challenges from all perspectives. Sampling was very fast paced, paperwork was voluminous due to the continuity of fishing 24/7, and as a result, sleep was very broken up. Conducting delicate specimen collections and measurements when the boat was rocking heavily in rough weather was quite a pain along with every other task, from going to the bathroom, to sitting still, to finding a comfortable position in bed. When walking down the hallway to my stateroom, it would go from a difficult uphill walk, where much leg strength had to be applied to move forward, to steep downhill in which that same force would have you flying ahead into the wall, and I frequently found myself adhered to the wall like a starfish. But, amongst the struggle were many positives.

The Endurance

Ernest Shackleton

During my time on the boat, I read a book called Endurance, about a WWI era British explorer named Ernest Shackleton and his crew who sailed to Antarctica with the mission of being the first to cross the continent on foot. The excursion did not turn out as planned, as their ship, the Endurance, became hopelessly entrapped in the ice floes far from where they needed to be. It is a great tale of mental and physical fortitude, in which unimaginable hardships and discomforts were suffered and overcome for over a year until they made it to a place of relief. This book was quite inspiring and when I would be having difficulties, would just remember that “At least I’m better off than Shackleton”, and that was at least some consolation.

Dutch Harbor from the dock

Boat life is full of ups and downs and many interesting moments. There is always a big social and antisocial component. While I had a strong working relationship with the crew members to gather my samples, working them and doing the measurements/specimen collection etc in my observer shack was a very isolating process, and made me realize how weird I am given the opportunity. We have to play to stay sane. My version was (and sleep deprivation may have had a very strong part to play in this) I would sing the numbers as I would write them on my deck sheets, and talking to myself was common. This would make the time go by faster. The crew members were very similar, and humor was a big part of our relationship, cracking retarded jokes back and forth all night. But the biggest stress relief for me was that the captain of the vessel had an electric guitar that he kept in the wheelhouse. He was trying to learn, and I having played guitar for many years was happy to help him learn, and in return was allowed to play whenever I liked (which of course was not very often due to working). Having not played in some time, the pleasure gained from playing the instrument was immense.

Opilio/Bairdi Tanner Hybrid
(more Opilio)

Perfect micro-environment

There were other isolated moments that were either significant or humorous, or interesting. Like when I am trying to determine whether a Tanner Crab is a Bairdi or Opilio by closely looking at the mouth area (epistome) and am quickly reminded that his arms (with powerful claws on the end) are longer than they look and he is unhappy that I am handling him, as he takes a quick swipe at my face. Or when this little clam came up in my sample that had a tiny family of baby seastars and a scallop living in it. Really makes me appreciate the small things. Or when I was sampling and the rain turned to hail- I won’t forget the sounds of the ice shards hitting the deck and the sorting table. Or when I laughed at the Tanner Crab that in an effort to pinch me, pinched himself very hard and took a moment to realize that it was himself, not I, that was in his powerful grasp. Or how the favorite pastime among crew members was watching Ancient Aliens and frequently talking about various conspiracy theories as if they were anything more than that. As will all boats I suspect, it was quite an unforgettable experience indeed. So long to the Bering for now.

Sunset on the Bering

First Pot Boat Trip Out Of Dutch Harbor

Well, so much for more consistency in my updates. Such is the inherently inconsistent and tentative nature of this job. Not even entirely sure where to start on this one, as a lot has happened since my last update. Long story short, I was sent to Dutch Harbor further out on the Aleutian chain, however, not for Pollock. As the beginning step of a plan in the works, I was instead put on a pot vessel that fishes for Cod, named the Bountiful. It is the largest pot processor in Alaska, meaning I have now worked on the smallest factory trawler in Alaska- the Golden Fleece, and the largest factory pot processor. Both, I am told, are among the most difficult assignments that the program offers. I have already talked about the rigors of sampling on my last boat- lots of heavy lifting, and dealing with a sampling area that had a tendency to get flooded towards the end of the trip as the hold would get full. This boat, however, presents different challenges. Being a pot boat, one of the main things is watching out for pots, which are craned into the air to be stacked and put on a hydraulic launcher that has the capability of putting the pot at a 45 degree angle towards or away from the boat in order to launch it, or dump the fish out of it. The dangers of working on these boats is shown (albeit in a slightly to very dramatized manner) in the show “Deadliest Catch”.

The Bountiful (Marine Exchange)

What made this boat difficult for me to work on, were two things in addition to always watching my head. First was actually sampling. There is not quite as much heavy lifting as on my last assignment, but, I have to work at the pace of the crew when I am pulling my samples, which is at the insane speed of 2.5 minutes per pot- meaning the time it takes to pull up a pot, dump the fish, sort/cut the fish, deploy that pot, and pull up the next one is just 2.5 minutes. I am responsible for tallying all the catch and counting/weighing any bycatch, as well as a sample of the predominant catch. I do this for randomly selected pots at randomly selected times within randomly selected strings (groups) of pots. The other challenge that I will hopefully be able to mitigate in this next coming trip is the scheduling. The schedule I was on allowed for me to work less time, but have less time off, causing my sleep to be extremely fragmented and making the volumes of paperwork and data entry associated with this boat difficult to keep up with.

Up the road from the bunkhouse.

We will only be here for a short time to offload, then will go out for another minimum of a 2.5 week trip. This boat can hold 1 MILLION pounds of processed fish and has enough fuel to be out at sea for longer than a month! This amazes me. I don’t really have any pictures to share as of yet; the day I flew into Dutch, I was deployed almost immediately. This island vacillates between majestic and depressing beauty as the sun and rain take turns making the mountains look bright and green or daunting and ominous grey. I look forward to hiking them when I get the chance. I will let you all know how my next trip goes, with hopefully a little more time to explore Unalaska Island when I am in port next.

Mini Vacation

I haven’t written a blog entry for some time-- reason being a mix of procrastination with busyness from adventures on my post contract #1 miniature vacation. My final trip aboard the Golden Fleece was a good one. We fished for Rock Sole which presented somewhat of a physical challenge from a sampling perspective, but as the fish is shallower, we stayed closer to land, providing the luxury of cell service while at sea. One last hard push, and my first contract was over as quickly as it began. Fond memories, and when it was all said and done, even some friends were made. It is hard to not make friends when you work in a positive environment; even if you’re supposed to maintain a certain distance. We’re all human.

After a quick and successful debriefing, I took a 2 week vacation and flew my girlfriend up after not having seen her for 4 months. We stayed in Palmer, AK with my best friend’s grandparents, whom I have become very close to. We had many adventures such as exploring downtown Anchorage, hiking many trails (and off the trail) and a glacier, and some salmon fishing. I have mostly lived without the mountain hiking and fishing experience, but it is something I am getting into more and more with time. I have slowly tried to ease my girlfriend into it, so that we may do these things together, and am pleasantly surprised with how receptive to it she has been. She has grown up without being heavily exposed to the outdoors as well.

We experienced several places that only a picture can describe. Hatcher Pass with its vivid green valley’s mottled with purple Fireweed on a backdrop of cloudy blue skies dancing with more ominous rain clouds - The rocky wet stream bank trail that led us to
Thunderbird Falls, a waterfall and somewhat secluded grove that is the stuff of fairytales - The crisp Matanuska Glacier with hews of blue that you can only find in ice that’s been carefully cultivated by mother nature over very long time periods. This is just a taste of Alaska and what we were able to enjoy. I plan on working up here for a few years, which means I will have no shortage of these experiences.

I was sad to leave Palmer and send my girl back home, but I never meant to take a long vacation. After having already completed my briefing for my second contract, I am now in wait mode. I have the apartment to myself, which is nice, but slightly boring and I am ready to go back to work. I have received no definitive word, but I will likely be sent to Dutch Harbor for Pollock, which will be a nice change of scenery and a different experience. Good things are in the works. I will try to be more consistent in my updates.

Commencement Of Final Trip

I embark on the final trip of my first contract as a Fishery Observer sometime this evening and will be back on the 25^th, when my contract expires. It has been an awesome adventure, full of new experiences and breathtaking sights. I am the last Saltwater Observer in Kodiak, the rest have moved further out the Aleutian chain for other fisheries for the remainder of their contract. Looking back, I recall the name of my boat recurring repeatedly during training as being the “odd boat” for a number of reasons. It is the smallest factory vessel in Alaska and the only one with no flowscale to weigh the fish as they enter the factory. It has other exceptions that set it apart from other boats as well. I was told it was a challenging assignment, especially for new observers. It was intimidating being the very first one in my class to leave Seattle for Kodiak and be deployed immediately, with less prep for my special assignment than I had anticipated and been led to believe. But to be honest, I wouldn’t have had it any other way. It has been a very positive experience. I have been able to hone my relationship with the captain and crew to a great balance of professionalism blended with friendly optimism in which everyone helps each other get through the job and day. My next assignment will likely be in Dutch Harbor for Pollock on either a catcher catcher vessel, or a huge processor. It will be something new and different which is once again exciting, yet intimidating. But I take comfort in knowing that all the information I need to perform my job correctly in each scenario is outlined in my manual, aided by NOAA advisors that I can often communicate with while I am at sea.

On a different note, yesterday I saw Orcas for the first time since I have been up here. It was a pair—a male and female, I believe. Unfortunately I cannot share my pictures, as I was on the boat when I took them, and it did not occur to me in the moment to get off the boat to take them, thereby allowing me to publically share them. That was a good was to nearly conclude my contract. One more trip, then a short vacation in Palmer with family friends before my next contract begins. I will be flying up my love whom I miss very much, and will share a little slice of Alaska with her. There will be lots of hiking, fishing, and relaxing to be done which I am looking forward to very much.

I have not been hiking quite as much, as we have been in port for shorter periods of time, as our newer crew is getting quicker with the offload process, thereby decreasing the amount of time we spend in port. But rest assured, I will fill my, of late, photo-less blog with many more in coming weeks until my next assignment, and a change of scenery, begins.

Epiphany

I’ve been on this boat for 65 days now; the end of my first contract as a NMFS Fishery Observer is only a few weeks from completion. All has slipped into routine as we were told it would; days have become more fluid and continuous than they have ever been in the past. I’m beginning to feel the effects of solitude from those I care about and the physical fatigue from the odd hours and broken up sleep schedule. I work in 2 to 4 hour bursts each scheduled haul-back which could occur at any time. The last string of 4 on hauls was particularly strenuous, only getting 3 to 4 hours of sleep between sampling. Work is very physical and dirty; I work up a sweat and get covered in fish slime and scales every time, and only have an opportunity to shower once every 3 or 4 hauls. I have always been a light sleeper so it takes me some time to wind down from working and fall asleep. During the day I forget about the constant hum of the engine, but am reminded of how loud it actually is when I lay down to sleep. I’ve never been much of a coffee drinker, but I am discovering it doesn’t do much more for me than keep me awake at the precise moment that I need to fall asleep. Other than being a little tired, all is well. Crew is in pretty positive spirits, weather has been good to us, and fish are coming in at a steady rate. I write this on 6/29, about half way through my 5^th or 6^th fishing trip. I am sitting in the galley of the boat somewhere East of Kodiak, waiting for my 30 minute cue for haul back.

A pleasant distraction from my sampling occurred yesterday when a Humpback Whale breached very close to our vessel on the Port side. I was frustrated at first because it was the best whale sighting I’ve had since I have been up here and there was no way for me to take a picture of it, as my camera was in my bunk and I was in my raingear covered in fish slime. To rinse off, take my gloves off, and get my camera was at the risk of not experiencing it at all. So I decided to just stay at my sampling station and absorb it all; a beautiful creature just being. It was magnificent, but with an addition of playful innocence. I know Humpback Whale sightings are nothing earth shattering in Alaska, but it was enough to divert me from my often rigorous and monotonous work, and inspire me to remember why I am here. The ocean is such a vast place filled with wonders beyond imagining, many of which have yet to be discovered. Man has an obligation to realize his part in all of this, and step up to the plate to ensure that this delicate balance is kept. Our future generations will look back on us fondly if we can accomplish this and not rob them of the natural living beauty that we took for granted and let slip away into nothingness. It is much more satisfying, even on a spiritual level, to acknowledge how closely tied and even related we are to every ant, bird, elephant, fish, and plant on this planet, than to arbitrarily place ourselves separate and above it all, with it all at our disposal. Now is a time that they need us just as much as we need them.

I was reading a book by renowned biologist E.O. Wilson who was discussing how we place values on organisms. With respect to the Blue Whale, which came only a few hundred individuals away from extinction, many “were eager to continue the hunt even at the risk of total extinction” and were convinced that “killing them all and investing the money would yield the whalers and humanity the most money over letting them recover and harvesting sustainably”. This argument is prevalent in industry worldwide even today in the 21^st century. But what is wrong with this argument? The answer is simple—

“The dollar and cents value of a dead blue whale was based only on the measures relevant to the existing market—that is, on the going price per unit weight of whale oil and meat. There are many other values, destined to grow along with our knowledge of the living organism in science, medicine, and aesthetics, in dimensions and magnitudes still unforeseen. What was the value of the blue whale in A.D. 1000? Close to zero. What will its value be in A.D. 3000? Essentially limitless, plus the gratitude of the generation then alive to those who, in their wisdom, saved the whale from extinction. No one can guess the full future value of any kind of animal, plant, or microorganism. Its potential is spread across a spectrum of known and as yet unimagined human needs.”

All I can say is be kind to your environment, those around you, and if you have the power to put people in a position to do that in a higher capacity, do it.

Still In Port

Pillar Mountain Wind Turbines

As the title implies, I am still in port, and have been for several days now. There are a lot of logistics that go into making a fishing boat work, and part of it is ensuring it is properly manned. We are once again waiting on some replacement crew members, as well as an engineer. I have had a lot of down time, and there isn’t too much to do in Kodiak other than hike, which fortunately I get plenty of enjoyment out of; especially the photography aspect of it. As such, I did a local hike up Pillar Mountain to the wind turbines that supply the town with power. From a distance the blades appear to be moving somewhat slowly, but upon reaching them, it becomes apparent how huge and fast they are. It was pretty apparent why they put them up there when a fog bank rolled in and brought some what might be considered gale force wind with it. The wind howls up there! It was so powerful that you could lean over and it would hold you up. Kodiak is a place of unique beauty and I am glad to have the time to experience it. The estimated date of departure is on Tuesday. We may be fishing for Rock Sole instead of Rex Sole, which means trips may be longer; about 2 weeks. Some more pics and their locations can be found in the photo tab.

The Longest Trip (Thus Far)

There are two major components to my job– it is primarily science and data collection, but there is also a huge social component as well. Being a strong communicator is integral for several reasons. Maintaining a healthy working relationship with the captain of the vessel is of utmost importance. It is very difficult for me to complete my job without his cooperation and assistance. Additionally, having a respectful relationship with the crew is just as important– and easier on some boats than others. They have the ability to make the job and life much easier, or much more difficult. I am fortunate to work on a vessel with a very friendly, helpful, and enthusiastic crew. I help them, and they help me; all is as it should be.

However, when working on larger vessels with larger crews– especially in cramped conditions, crew members don’t always get along, which can have an obvious effect on workflow. I try to avoid these negative interactions. That in combination with the general difficulty of the shift and sometimes dangerous nature of the work resulted in a few guys quitting during the trip. This slowed down the pace– hence the extra length of the trip, about 9 days.

Luckily, as is typical of this time of year, the days are long, and the weather relatively calm. I haven’t experienced much more than 5 foot swells this trip, and the seasickness has not visited me. All is well

I did some more hiking while in port. I try to do at least one new trail each time, but there are so many trails, that I often time do a couple new ones. Here's a little slice of paradise and there are some more photos in the photos tab in the location where I took them.

South Western Point of Near Island

All Part Of The Job

This job, while very rewarding, presents many challenges. My first trip went very smoothly. The seas were calm, the sun was out much of the time, and I eased into sampling with relatively little headache. The second trip, however, went a little differently. Living on a boat is like living in a dorm with respect to germ transmission. There are 17 people on my vessel living and working in very close proximity for months at a time. If one person gets sick, he generally isn’t the only one. I picked up a nasty bug the second to last day of the 1^st trip which unfortunately carried over into the 2^nd trip. Steaming out to the fishing grounds took about a day and a half, and we encountered 15 foot ocean swells for much of the time. Although I have spent much time on the water, this was unlike anything I have ever been in, and was enough to get me fairly seasick. Being sick and seasick simultaneously is not fun. The best way for me to get over being seasick is to be outside working, but that was not possible, as we had not yet reached the grounds. Even when we did, the conditions were still not conducive to sampling. Sampling, while easing my seasickness, was also at the risk of exacerbating my cold/flu/whatever it was. This took a couple of days to work its way out at the expense of a couple hauls.

 

Beard evolution.

I have not been around these boats for very long, and they make a wide assortment of noises- unfortunately especially in heavier seas. Trying to sleep during 15 foot swells (which isn’t even THAT big up here) was difficult. I haven’t yet figured out which sounds are normal, and which sounds are worthy of getting out of my bunk and going up to the wheelhouse to make sure we aren’t sinking (slightly dramatized). The boat flexes which causes many different creaking sounds; there are big stabilizer booms on the port and starboard side on hinges that are held horizontal by a chain. They occasionally flap up and down which is a very loud. And just the waves slapping up against the side of the hull sounds like metal on metal, and can be very alarming. My bunk is perpendicular to the length of the boat, which seems to promote rolling around a lot. I have to learn to brace myself to prevent too much movement. I am on the top bunk. There is an art to getting in and out of my bunk in rough seas somewhat gracefully- there is no ladder. Just when I think I have gotten the hang of it, I hit my head on the ceiling on the way down. All just part of it I guess.

 

Beautiful Kodiak Harbor.
The Golden Fleece on the bottom right

The days tend to blend together when you are at sea. It is an odd phenomenon- especially when you are working at odd hours. If I don’t check my phone or calendar, I quickly forget what day it is, and given how long the sun is in the sky, sometimes lose track of the time as well. We have to keep a daily logbook for my job. I see now why the stress the importance of filling it in EVERY DAY and to not procrastinate a couple of days. It is easy to forget what happened.

I get a fair amount of upperbody workout on the boat; my sampling requires me to collect 9 40kg baskets full of fish each sample haul. They get very heavy after a while. However, I do not get much cardio or leg workout in. I try to make up for it when I get to port as much as possible. Last time I was in port, I walked about 12 miles between shopping in town and hiking. Yesterday, I did some more hiking with another friend from training on a nearby island aptly named “Near Island”. Yes, very original, I know. There are a couple more photographs in the photographs tab on the map where I took them.

Hiking In Kodiak

I am in port for the day as the crew offloads the product. I met up with my buddy from training who is in port as well, and had a great hike to Miller Point. It was about a 12 mile round trip, which was more than we had anticipated, but still totally worth it. It felt good to get the legs moving after a week at sea!

Trip #1 Was A Success!

Let me begin with the disclaimer that in accordance with regulation, none of the photographs in this post were taken on my boat. All were either taken from land, or were found on the internet, in which case due credit was given.

This has been one hell of a great experience thus far.

I will give you a glimpse into my life right now. I am assigned to the Catcher Processor (this means it has a factory on board) Golden Fleece. Operations on this vessel are round the clock. While most of the crew members work in set shifts, my work is centered around haulbacks, and starts when the vessel begins pulling up the net. This could take place at any time of the day or night. I am notified or woken up 20 or 30 minutes before haulback. This gives me some time to grab a bite to eat and get my foul weather gear on. I usually get on deck with some time to spare, which gives me the opportunity to wake up a little more as the chilly Gulf of Alaska (GOA) air hits my face. At this time, I am monitoring for birds of interest, such as Short-tailed Albatross, as well as any marine mammal sightings/interactions.

My boat! The Golden Fleece

The thing about these types of boats is there is heavy machinery everywhere you look. There are very specific places that are safe and dangerous to be a given times. For example,  there are components of the net called trawl doors -there are 2 of them, 1 on the port and starboard side- which serve to hold the entrance to the net open under water. They are the first thing to surface and for about 2 seconds, are under immense tension until relieved. These cables have been known to snap, which could kill anyone in their path. Therefore, during haulback, it is advised to be nowhere near these parts. Another example is the codend is pulled on deck into a trawl alley, where all of the fish are dumped. On many boats, it is a bad idea to be between the trawl alley wall and the codend, as the codend is often rolling around as the boat moves. If you are in that spot, you could be sandwiched and crushed between the codend and the trawl alley wall.

trawl net (NMFS)

As soon as it is safe to do so, I measure its dimensions of the codend so that I may determine its volume. I can later multiply this by a predetermined density in order to estimate the weight of the catch. After this, I wait for the catch to be dumped into the trawl alley. I randomly select regions of the trawl alley to sample and request some crew members to fill up my baskets with fish from these zones. I identify, count, and weigh everything in my sample, and occasionally take specimen samples. The other half of my job is filling out paperwork to document information about the trip, haul, and sample species composition.

The sampling and paperwork takes 2-4 hours and is fairly physically demanding, and at times back breaking. The baskets can be heavy and awkward to handle, especially when the seas are rough and the boat is moving around, and there are obstacles to move over/around. I have already hit my head, scraped my arm, tripped, smelled some awful smells, and gotten shat on by a seagull. It is hard work, but it is very rewarding nonetheless. The air is clean, I am in my element. The captain and crew are very helpful and interesting to talk with. This first trip has been a positive one, and I hope to continue with the good vibes. (Above written May 5th)

Training=Completed. Now For The Real Test...

My apologies for not having updated you all since the end of my first training week. That week was one of the slowest ever. In contrast, weeks 2 and 3 flew by faster than I could keep track. I took the final today. It was not easy, but I passed. It wasn’t like any other final I have taken. Not so much because of the difficulty of subject matter, but because what we’re learning REALLY matters. The consequence for not mastering the material isn’t just and passing with a score of 80% or higher is losing the job. This is for good reason, however. The things that I have learned in this program are unlike anything that I have ever studied. This newfound knowledge has the potential to save my own life and save others’ as well. Safety is always the number 1 priority. We will be working in some of the most dangerous conditions the ocean has to offer. Don’t get me wrong; we are not fisherman, and do not work quite as hard as they do; I have the utmost respect for them. But it can be an unforgiving environment for all who are subjected to it.

We checked out all of our sampling gear including but not limited to 4 sampling baskets, scales, measuring tape, specimen collection equipment, forms to fill out (a huge part of this job), life jacket, immersion suit, Personal Locator Beacon, strobe lights, etc. It is starting to feel real now. I will be leaving for Anchorage as early as Monday, as late as Friday. The nature of this job is ever-changing, and requires us to be flexible and willing to relocate at a moment’s notice.

The Saltwater trainees that survived the program, myself included, have been assigned to the Rockfish fishery in Kodiak. I am very excited about this opportunity, as Rockfish is the only fishery in Kodiak that my company covers, and the fishing window is relatively short. This means the probability of getting in is fairly low. I am told that Kodiak is a beautiful place, and I feel very fortunate to begin my adventure here. As I previously mentioned, I cannot post pictures that I only had the ability to take because of my job. I will, however, share as many pictures of non fishing boat origin as I can. More to come!

Training Week 1 Completed!

Training week 1 of 3 done! Training has been very intense and has left very little time for writing or thinking about much else. It has been a very difficult but rewarding process that consists of waking up @0630, making breakfast, walking 2 miles to the NOAA facility for the 8 hour 0830 training, then studying until midnight or later. Training during the day consists of a wide variety of topics including but not limited to (brace yourself for a very long run on sentence!) learning about the history and mechanics of the fisheries in Alaska, boat/safety/fish regulations, fish identification and physiology labs, random sampling techniques and design that are totally dependent on the vessel configuration, fishery, and catch composition, safety protocols in the event there is a life threatening emergency which is a very real possibility, and learning how to don an immersion suit in under a minute and how to survive in the North Pacific. Somebody perfectly described it as taking your favorite class 5 days a week for 8 hours a day.

The class is 2/3 trainees from my company and 1/3 from another observer provider. But they’re a solid group of people and we have become friends very quickly. We all have very similar interests (or we wouldn’t be here) and have lots to talk about. Although the nature of this job is temporary, and we all come from diverse backgrounds and geographically distant places, I hope to have made some lasting friendships.

Today’s training was extra awesome because we were tested on being able to put on our immersion suit in less than a minute (we all passed) and went in the water where we learned all sorts of survival/rescue techniques, from throwing a life ring, to properly getting inside of a life raft and different survival formations that maximize on heat/energy retention.

 

me in my immersion suit

On a different and slightly less awesome note, I will not be able to post as many pictures as I had previously thought and partially designed this blog for. The rule is: if you took the pictures on the boat, no matter what the picture is of, it belongs to NMFS. Because of certain confidentiality rules, I will be unable to post pictures that I take from the boat. I will only share them with you if you are someone I know and trust, but they must stay off the interwebs under penalty of death. Just kidding. But I might lose my job. So hit me up of you’re curious. I will keep updating as frequently as possible!

First Day In Seattle!

Alaska Essentials

After a hectic but enjoyable last week and a half at home spending time with friends and family, I am finally here. If I wasn’t ready to go before having dinner with my NOAA family, I definitely was after. They provided me with some much needed essentials that I was missing (see pic to right). As I was flying in, it looked quite a bit like Oregon and Northern California to me; although
I don’t have too many reference points. There is sort of a light but consistent drizzle, and it is a little cooler than I am used to. When I gave the shuttle express driver my destination address, he knew immediately where I was going and said “so you’re going to the bunkhouse, eh?” I just got to the apartment in Seattle a little while ago, and now that I am settled and have had some time to interact with the observers currently using the apartment, I can write a little. Everyone that I have met sofar is very friendly and surprisingly welcoming of newcomers. I was the first of the trainees for this session to show up. This appt is supposed to be dedicated to the trainees for the next 3 weeks, so I expect as they show up over the next 2 days, the more experienced observers will begin to clear out. I am glad to have started on the

My Appt Balcony

right foot with them nonetheless. I was told about a week ago that there will be a quiz on the first day of training on a hefty 107 page reading assignment. It has been hard to find time to read at home, but it looks like I will have some down time, and should be able to complete it no problem. The apartment is pretty basic, and reminds me vaguely of my freshman year of college living at Humboldt State. More to come.

A New Chapter--

Hello All! As many of you know, I have been picked up by a company called Saltwater Inc. to do Fishery Observing. Saltwater is contracted by NOAA- National Marine Fisheries Service (NMFS), fisherman, and research organizations, to provide reliable, unbiased fisheries data to promote management practices that are in the best interests of the industry, the consumer, and of course, the ecosystem that the rest is centered around. It's been recommended to me that I document my experiences in blog format. As such, I have decided to create this blog detailing for all of you my experiences as an Observer in Alaska and wherever else the job may take me. I am new to blogging, and this is my first attempt. I am still figuring out how the program works etc. so please bear with me. I leave for Seattle on 3-April for a 3 week training course sponsored by NMFS. My next post will be around that time, I'll keep you updated! If you are reading this via email, please click the link to my blog for a more graphically pleasing version.