Land again!

March 18th, 2008 10:30 pm
Somewhere in the Bering Sea…

I’m writing this at the galley table on my vessel, the Clipper Endeavor.


I am having a fabulous time.

I never want to leave this boat.

Just kidding, it’s not ALL peaches and rose petals, but I really feel grateful and lucked out with an awesome crew and captain. I heard a bunch of horror stories when I got my assignment about prior observers’ experiences on this boat so I was really expecting the worst. But I came in with a positive attitude and tried to be as respectful as possible and gosh darnit it pays off to play Pollyanna sometimes!

The work was really hard and overwhelming at first. This paragraph from the Occupational Health Assessment that I had to have signed by a physician sums up the overall experience quite well:

“Observers gather biological data onboard commercial fishing vessels which operate in the Gulf of Alaska and the Bering Sea. Routine medical care is non-existent; emergency medical care is only available in extreme situations and may be days away. Observers spend many hours at a time in cold or wet weather in heavy seas. Meals are unscheduled. Good vision and hearing are a must for the safety of an observer. They may work long, odd hours seven days a week, and rarely sleep uninterrupted for 8 hours. Sampling requires lifting heavy baskets of fish (80 to 100 pounds) several times a day, usually from awkward positions. Motion sickness can be a real problem as it can cause dehydration and require medications. Life onboard a fishing vessel involves exposure to constant shipboard noise (engines, machinery, and gears) and vibrations and can be quite lonely and stressful.”

Check, check, check and definitely check on the “awkward positions” caveat. Thankfully I slapped on the seasickness patch about an hour before we left Dutch Harbor on the 5th. I’m really glad we did because it was a rough 3 day steam out to the fishing grounds, and I spent most of it in bed anyways. I dry-heaved once but other than that, did remarkably well and now I’m super comfortable and used to my sea legs.

Fishing has been slow, but this fishery is notorious for that so it’s nothing out of the ordinary. It’s sort of cool for me to see all the bycatch; we’re fishing quite deep (on average ½ mile down) so there’s some pretty weird fish coming up. I also got my first glimpse of killer whales about a week ago, which is bittersweet because they totally decimate our catch. Fishermen hate them. For the most part, my day consists of getting up, putting on dayglo rain gear that smell like fish guts, and tallying the animals on the line for set periods. Then I collect certain subsets of particular species and weigh them. Sometimes I get to measure them and cut their heads open too, which is freaky because sablefish keep moving after you chop their heads off. Then I’m in there rooting around in their brain cavity for these little bones called otoliths and I’m touching nerves and their eyes are jerking around and their fins are moving. Eek. I’m pretty desensitized to the death and destruction by now, and am happy to report that I’m completely over my dead fish phobia. Although I don’t think I’d be happy to find a saran-wrapped giant grenadier in my sleeping bag (which our cook Mark claims would be the TRUE test to see if I’m really over it).

It’s not unbearably cold or miserable, but I do get frozen when I have to sit and count and not move around. I guess I missed the icing over of the boat by a few weeks; the temperature is really quite bearable especially when I’m moving around and hucking big fish overboard. Be careful what you ask for from the universe- my only request for a boat was for some sort of exercise machine…I think I mentioned a Stairmaster specifically. Well, I got the only boat out there that you have to climb up stairs to dump stuff over the side. And so I do that 85 gazillion times a day. : )

03/24/08

I feel like such a weenie making this sound hard…what I do is a piece of cake compared to the crew…oh man I have never seen men work so hard. It’s simply amazing. And they tell me this is nothing; that during the Pacific Cod season it’s 5 times as many fish and they’re moving 3 times faster on ½ as much sleep. I really can’t believe the human body is capable of the stuff that these guys do physically. Well, and mentally too. They’re all such great guys, so sweet and helpful and cheerful. Sure, the fact that I’m the only living, breathing female in sight for hundreds of miles helps but they’re truly good people and I feel extremely blessed and well taken care of.

Yesterday was Easter. It was a really good day fishing, the best yet by far. However there was a report of 4 deaths on a ship that had gone down the night before. I still don’t know the details but the Alaska Ranger was a trawler processor for the Fishing Company of Alaska, and everyone made it off except the Captain, the Engineer, the 1st Mate, and a crewmember. It was a pretty sobering to think about and really shook me up for a bit.

Today was gorgeous and I had several “whoa” moments on deck. The sun was setting and pouring through the clouds like on a Jesus poster and there was an island in the background and the sea was perfectly calm and the seabirds were squawking and it was just really peaceful and beautiful. We finished up fishing in the Aleutian Islands so now we’re onto the Gulf of Alaska. I’m really happy that I get to stay on this boat for another trip.

3/29/08 I’m at a stopover in Dutch Harbor for the night before we go on the Gulf of Alaska trip tomorrow, so I can post…life is good, will report more in a month : )