“Deadliest Catch,” the Discovery channel documentary about Alaskan crabbing has tickled the interests of people across the world since 2005 with its high stakes on the Bering Sea. While I don’t work directly with the Alaskan crabbers, I have had the honor of working as an observer for one of the other fisheries in the Bering Sea.
This past winter was my first time there when film crews normally make the trek to capture the dangers and bravery of Alaskan crabbing. Those waters truly lived up to their reputation as one of the most dangerous places to work in the U.S.
I work as a contracted employee for a branch of the National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration. All fisheries fall under NOAA’s regulations, but I specifically work for their ground fishery in Alaska. We are the eyes and ears for the federal government out on the plants and ships deployed on the Bering Sea. As observers, we live and work alongside Alaska’s brave and daring fishermen. Our duties mostly keep us out of the hazardous areas of the job, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe. It is one of the most challenging and rewarding jobs I have ever held.
This last fishing season, I was stationed on the mainland at a plant where I worked with three other observers to aid in data collection and safety regulation. Due to extremely dangerous weather at the beginning of the season, many fishermen decided not to go out. In fact, I requested to be stationed at the plant as I had no wish to be out on the waves myself.
Even though I wasn’t on the sea this season, my duties were just as important as what the ship’s observers do. My most essential duties revolved around keeping an eye on sorting out any species outside of our target (also known as bycatch species), and separating prohibited species, as boat observers do not cover these two duties.
Alaska’s weather makes each day an interesting challenge. Working the night shift meant I rarely saw the sun, but the worst parts were the 50mph winds banging at the walls and whistling through the doors, along with a 10-degree wind chill seeping deep into my bones. Those points made it feel like my toes would fall off. In fact, during one of the days there, the edge of a small hurricane crossed over the top of us, and it didn’t feel any different than a normal shift. While standing in the line watching the offload, the best way to keep warm was to pace back and forth along the line.
Most plant work is done in covered areas. This creates different dangers compared to boats where you must keep an eye out for any lines snapping with enough force to take your head off. There were days when the wind blew hard, and snow was coming up through the grated floor below the observer station. On top of that, the amount of water flying off the conveyors would freeze solid, making many of the pathways slick ice rinks. The other plant workers would run warm water over the sampling area during breaks in the flow to help melt the ice and make it slightly safer for us to work. Any ice over there can be hazardous, as when sampling, you’re moving baskets between 40 to 45 kg (88-99 lbs).
There are a few types of bycatch observers get excited to see. One of my favorites is lumpsuckers. They are usually deeper water fish, so when they come out with the offload, they have been pressure damaged to the point they look entirely different from how they used to. Unlike the blobfish, the lumpsucker’s pressure damage turns it into an almost perfect Jello-like orb. Outside of these easy-to-identify orb boys, there are hundreds of other species of flatfish, skates, roundfish and rockfish that we must be able to identify down to species.
A single sample can take up to 40 minutes or more depending on what data needs to be collected at that time. This can include species identification, taking sex, length and weight of between 25 to 50 pollock, and my favorite part, collecting the otolith bones (fish ear bones) from the pollock.
My personal favorite part of the job is the salmon retention, as we get a lot of extra data from them. The Alaskan salmon fishery is stable, but with stressors like global warming, predation and overfishing, that balance could be shifted at any moment. Because of that, observers take extra care that any salmon found in offloads are separated from the main flow of fish for a unique data collection at the end for genetics samples. The two main kinds we look at are the Chinook (Kings) and the Chum, as these two tend to be the main ones caught in the pollock nets during the season.
The Geography of Amaknak Island makes leaving Dutch Harbor just as tricky as the job once you’re there. Mount Ballyhoo rises over Tom Maddison Airport. This little airport has only a single small runway and all planes that land are tiny jet planes that seat maybe 30 people. The winds blow directly down Mount Ballyhoo across the runway at 50-60mph. This means that even if the skies are clear, there are days that planes cannot land or take off safely from Dutch. It is expected that during the winter season, you can be stuck in the airport for days, waiting for flights that either never come or never fly.
The Bering Sea may be one of the most dangerous environments to work in. Still, through the efforts of NOAA and the observers, the safety and ecological stability of the Alaskan fishery have continued to grow. At this point, Alaskan groundfish observers can boast that their fishery is the most stable ground fishery in the world.
There is no better feeling than knowing you are making a difference with your work. The data collected during the season is used to determine the fishing quota for the future seasons, leading to safer, healthier and more abundant waters for years to come. That data would not exist if it wasn’t for the men and women who give their time and effort to the observer program. It is something to be truly proud of.
