Issue link: https://bluemagazine.uberflip.com/i/25121
The Calmest Day in the History of the Most Dangerous Profession AMERICA he fishing industry is a sacred moose in Alaska. It's a state of mind more than a profession. People in bars in places like Homer, Kodiak and King Salmon say, "I fish" with the tone of voice that people in Los Angeles say, "I drive a Benz 190." But reality, a world economy, changing laws, environ mental enforcement and depleted resources have turned com mercial fishing-with all its colorful lingo, legends and da into an industry (and a lifestyle) that is treading water. You can almost hear the salty dogs uttering their last arrrgh. It wasn't so long ago that any 20-year-old trying bankroll their upcoming semester at Arizona State could hop on a crabbing boat heading for the Bering Sea and pull in $30,000 dur ing the break if they didn't die-and many didn't. Last summer, I ran into a guy living on the beach in a tent who came up here, eyes bulging at the thought of just such a payoff. I think he a teacher in Californ ia. After th ree weeks in Alaska, he told me, "I have six dollars in my pocket." He was pull ing in $6.S0/hour on the "sl ime line" of the processors, waist-deep in fish guts. In places like Homer, there are many more former fishermen tha here are fishermen. The Bristol Bay salmon season, long one est I e wo ast two years. Which isn't to say there aren't fish out there, and that can't get on a boat if you're resourceful and get to Alaska early enough. I did it last June. Here's a brief account: We were a crew of three. After some anti-Alan Greenspan sunset. Were the Authorities rea lly going to allow me to go out on open sea in a position as official as deckhand? That's just a hea away from mate. At no point did anyone ask to see my in-state mercial permit, which was the result of perjury. I was tired. Those fi rst few droning hours were a blur. I had been wa ch itchat, we set off aboard the 36-foot boat at 1:30AM, just b"f,,,,,m��t .. fi!8Ⴀ䊉 �!B8�" that the breakers could get up to 30 feet but I remember no m than the sensation of soft rhythmic bumping as the bow of the dri netter danced over Lower Cook Inlet, seas raging at heights of up three centimeters. Then I remembered that sleep deprivation is a ub uitous method of torture in all the best dictatorships. The way a driftnetter works is you do sets. A set, I was lea ing, is the process of retrieving the fishing net via hydraulic cranks