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)