Record Catch

Things were looking more promising today from the moment I stepped out of my car in the Cove. Yesterday I was struck by how loud the surf was crashing on the rocks on the oceanfront as I waited for Cap in the parking lot. A sure sign that it wasn't going to be calm out there. But today I was reassured to be greeted by a silent ocean. She was considerably pacified since the day before with a gentle roll and a glassy surface reflecting the bright colors of the buoys.

We approached the day with the mentality that it would be just short of a miracle if there were any live shrimp left in the traps after five night's set in turbulent waters. As we steamed out to the first buoy we passed a marker buoy adrift, making its way toward New Harbor! It isn't very comforting to know that there is a ledge out there unmarked during especially low tides. The combination of wild seas over the past few days and exaggerated tides due to the full moon most likely set this buoy adrift. This was a bit of a foreboding omen: if a marker buoy chain couldn't tolerate the storm, then how did the delicate little shrimp fare?? The first pair of traps were hauled in tense suspense.

Sure enough, the shrimp were once again bright red, but they were all flipping their tails! The survival rate was much better than yesterday. We expected mortality to increase as we headed south and the traps were fuller, but not so! The traps did indeed fill up more to the southard, but the shrimp survived! Incredible.

In fact, there were so many shrimp that we ran out of trays by the end of the day. We headed to the dock with trays upon trays brimming with beautiful red crustaceans. It proved to be our best catch yet. At the dock in South Bristol, a loon must have sensed our good luck. It swam around the boat diving as we tossed dead shrimp over the side. The water was clear enough that I could see the loon swimming under the boat and snatching up the shrimp. Very cool!

That just goes to show you: if you don't expect much, then you won't leave disappointed!! A good lesson to learn in this business, but also in life.

Cleaning Up After the Storm

Mother Ocean must have been PMSing big-time today. Boy was she bitchy. She was slapping our hull and tossing us about like a child playing with a beach ball all day.

Cap was half an hour late this morning. He later told me he was "paralized" in thought, deliberating about how desperate we were to go out and clean out those traps. Apparently we were pretty desperate. I ran into another fisherman in the Cove while I waited for Cap. He asked if we were going out. I replied, "I thought so, but now I'm not so sure," with Cap being so late and all. He says "You might as well go home. You ain't goin' out in this." I asked if he was headed out. "Nope, just gonna change the oil."

Next thing, Cap's truck pulls around the corner piled high with bait trays and the sorting table (in case we encountered lots of dead shrimp and vein shrimp). We loaded up the skiff and off to the mooring we charged!

Cap laid out the game plan: If fifty percent or more of the shrimp are dead, we dump them back in the water. If less than that, we sort them on the table. Our first few pair were looking amazingly good. I became hopeful of making some money today. The shrimp were bright red, as they are when they get agitated, but they were alive!

The next challenge: will we have anywhere to sell them? Upon scanning the horizon, no other boats were apparent. It looked like we were the only ones crazy enough to go out, in which case the dock might not bother to buy shrimp. We call the boss-man. Sho' nuf, he was willing to buy. I could see it was gonna be a long, hard day.

We were looking up and down 10 ft seas all day. Not just long, rolling 10-ft-ers, but 10-second-interval mountains. It was one of those days when the horizon isn't a straight line: it looked more like a mountain range. The breakers were high and mighty, colliding with the New Harbor Ledges. Despite Dakini's grace in rough seas and Cap's skilled hand at the wheel, it was a challenge to stand upright, never mind shuffle around on deck and get stuff done!

After those first northernmost pair of traps, things started going downhill. At this point in the season our southernmost traps are fishing the best. The bitter irony is that the traps that were the fullest had the most Death in them. The shrimp just didn't do well being tossed about in stormy waters for three days in a crowded trap. They actually survived better at a lower density. This was a depressing fact to swallow, because had we hauled these traps a day earlier, we would have had an amazing bounty. However, this late in the game, we were dumping full traps. It simply would have been too much sorting time for too little profit. There's a point in any fishery where you just have to accept the circumstances and move on. But it's never easy to get past the "what ifs."

I could only do so much. The sorting soon got ahead of me and I had to resign to tending to bait and traps, leaving the sorting until the end of the day. Cap is very considerate of my limits and volunteered that we could sort together when we were done hauling.

We did all we could to get those traps emptied and baited. Cap is still recovering from the flu and doesn't have his energy back 100%. I was just exhausted from trying to stay upright all day. Every muscle in my body aches from the tension of standing up today. I'm not used to such rough seas. I'm sure that fishermen who are out on seas much worse than today's for long trips off shore get used to it, eventually building up those muscles and learning to relax. But it's simply my body's instinct to seize up.

Cap finally pointed the bow towards South Bristol to empty our catch. On the steam in we passed one of the largest draggers on the peninsula. A wave rolled underneath her, hiding the hull from our sight as it came toward us, then concealing the wheelhouse as she reached the trough of the wave. I felt a sense of pride at riding waves that size all day and being productive.

All in all, we did alright today. We accomplished our mission of post-storm clean-up. Our catch didn't beat any records but it was a good bonus when were weren't expecting to reap any profit. We returned safely to the Cove after a slow steam home in the gnarly seas. Then we met in Round Pond to prepare tomorrow's bait. We finished at dark. We certainly put in a full day's work, from sun up to sun down.

Tomorrow we will do it all over again and finish hauling through all of the traps. Cap expects higher mortality tomorrow, since the strings are further south, more exposed to turbulent waters, and the traps will most likely be full. I guess if we approach the day expecting to dump every trap, then we will be pleasantly surprised to come out with anything to sell. It really is a daily challenge to keep a positive attitude in this business! Overall, I think we're doing alright, though. The best we can do is lend eachother a helping hand when the going gets rough and get through it together, as a team.

The Merits of Shrimp Trapping

When most environmentally-conscious Americans think of shrimp they conjure up negative associations of ecological damage to the ocean floor and bycatch that results from dragging for shrimp in the Gulf of Mexico, or shrimp farms in Thailand.

There is something that I need to clarify before progressing any further with this blog. When I speak of shrimp trapping I'm talking about one of the most environmentally-friendly fisheries around. Cap claims that trapping is "one of the cleanest fisheries" that he knows of. By "clean" he's referring to the surprisingly low amount of bycatch. The only species other than shrimp that I've witnessed in traps all season are juvenile lobsters and rock crabs. We throw them back in the ocean and they sink back into their happy little lives in the sea.

Shrimp trapping yields even less bycatch than lobstering due to very low species diversity of bycatch and due to lack of fish in shrimp traps. In terms of bycatch, shrimping is even "cleaner" of a fishery than lobstering, in that fish aren't caught in the traps. When many fish species are hauled up from the ocean bottom as quickly as they are in a trap, the rapid pressure difference causes the air in their body cavities to expand. They can't deflate and therefore float on the surface, unable to return to the benthos, likely to be plucked up by a gull. I don't mean to imply that bycatch is a problem in the lobstering industry. Lobstering is also an incredibly sustainable fishery both in terms of population recruitment as well as bycatch. But shrimp trapping is even better.

Furthermore, shrimp trapping leads to much lower ecological impact than dragging for shrimp. A trap only influences the area that it sits on, whereas a net sweeps the ocean bottom sometimes for hours in one "set" influencing the entire tract along the way.

Trapping is also more beneficial to the shrimp population than is dragging. Dragging begins earlier in the season (it began on December 1 in 2009, whereas we didn't set traps until late January) when the shrimp are still bearing eggs. When we first began hauling shrimp traps, the shrimp were still holding onto some eggs, but they weren't rounded out with eggs like early-season dragged shrimp. Now, at the peak of the trapping season, the shrimp have dropped their eggs. This means that they already reproduced. Those eggs will have a chance to hatch and grow into adults that will be caught in another two years. Therefore, I would go so far as to say that shrimp trapping is better for population recruitment than is dragging.

I think it is important to distinguish shrimp trapping from dragging (whether it is in Maine or in the Gulf) and from farm-raised shrimp. In general, Maine shrimp are much more sustainably

caught than shrimp from other places (domestic or foriegn). Even dragging in Maine produces little bycatch. There is a mandatory grate built into nets here called a "turtle-excluder" that releases many large fish and other big organisms. I don't know much about dragging, so correct me if I'm using the wrong terminology. Dragging in Maine also yields less bycatch than shrimp dragging in the Gulf simply because we have much lower species richness (species diversity and abundance) in Northeast waters.

Lastly, trapped shrimp are generally bigger, fresher and have a better "count" (number of shrimp per pound) since they are eggless. Trapped shrimp are still alive when they arrive at the dock, whereas dragged shrimp don't survive a long drag. I think they are the most beautiful shrimp around, but I'm a little biased.

In conclusion, shrimp trapping is a fishery of which very few Americans are aware. I think it is important to spread the word about it in our increasingly environmentally-conscious nation. It is a market that could be greatly enhanced if targeted at the right niches.

The Bait Chippah

Not only are shrimp delicate little buggers, they are also very picky eaters. Lobsters are scavengers and will eat just about anything. Lobster bait is typically whole herring stuffed in a bait bag. Shrimp, on the other hand, have very small little mouths and their bait must be processed, like baby food.

It sounds easy enough to mash up already rotten fish for bait. But when mass quantities of shrimp bait are needed on a daily basis, preparing bait becomes quite a process. For years Cap has pulped his herring manually, using a garden edger (a blade on a long handle) and chopping the herring in a fish tray. This process is most effective if the tray bottom is just covered in herring, no more than that. We began the season chopping our bait in this manner and, as you can imagine, it took hours upon hours to pulp enough bait for just one day (150 bags worth).

So Cap started searching for his "dream pulper." Actually, he'd been looking in Uncle Henry's for months in anticipation of shrimping season, but to no avail. He was searching for some machine--anything!--that would effectively pulverize large quantities of herring. Many shrimp trappers use meat grinders with the hand crank hooked up to an electric drill. This makes life easier, but it still takes some time to get through a barrel (5 bushel) of herring.

Then our prayers were answered. One afternoon upon returning to the dock after a hard day of shrimping we were greeted by some very enthusiastic fishermen friends. They had big smiles on their faces. The sternman explained how he had found a woodchipper on the side of the road for free! He had picked it up and they tried their hand at chipping bait.

Well there is a very important attachment where wood chips are expelled from the machine that deflects the chips down instead of straight out. This attachment apparently shot off as soon as the herring pulp hit it and the thing was firing pulverized herring clear across their lawn with an 80 ft trajectory! You can imagine the mess. His dogs sure liked it.

With a simple bungee securing the attachment, however, that machine was the best bait chippah in town. These guys were tearing through a barrel in all of 15 minutes whereas the meat grinder guys were taking five times that long. You don't even want to know how much faster it was than our chopping routine. Our buddies offered that we may use it and we jumped at the chance.

You should have seen us the first day chipping bait. We were smiling the whole time, it was so much fun. Part of the pleasure in it was saving hours upon hours of work chopping the fish manually. But part of it was just the primitive satisfaction of destroying things. The roar of the chipper echoed through the whole harbor. Fishermen came down to watch it at work. Someone even took pictures of us chipping bait, which we got a kick out of. Sure 'nough that beast devoured 3 barrels in just under an hour. 'Magine!

In fact, we just finished chipping bait today. Today's a day on land since there is a gale warning and it's gusting to 30 kt. It doesn't look like this easterly storm is going to let up readily. Tomorrow it's supposed to gust to 50 kt with 20 ft seas and Friday isn't looking any better. This is bad news for shrimping. We might get to haul on Saturday, in which case half of the traps will have set for 4 very turbulent nights. That means that there will be a lot of dead shrimp and most likely plenty of vein shrimp. There will be sorting to do. Cap is talking about bringing his son out with us to pick.

The good news is that we will have a day off! Maybe even 2! Considering that we haven't had a day off since January 23, I think it is about time to rest. Cap is sick with the flu and needs rest more than anything right now. He wouldn't even tell me he was sick. His wife came down to tell me today when we were almost through prepping bait! Stubborn fisherman.

Inspirations

Commercial fishing is not a very common job nor are many people aware of what it takes to get seafood on their plate. It is an occupation that comes with many curses as well as many small blessings. I have already brought some of the curses to light and will undoubtedly continue to do so over the course of this blog. Fishermen are perhaps best known for bitching and moaning. They do it well.

The challenge in fishing is to remain aware of the blessings that befall one on a daily basis. They

may be small and fleeting, but they are wasted if they go unnoticed. These subtle blessings are what attract me to fishing, besides the adventure and constant physical challenge of it. If one catches them (the way the light shines on the gulls' tails as they greedily dive for bait, the orange glimmer in the shrimps' eyes when they are pulled from the water, or the dazzling sunrise first thing in the morning) they have the potential to be an inspiration.

This brings me to the whole purpose of writing this blog. I often speak of fishing to my family and friends. . . even complete strangers sometimes! People tell me that my story is unique and that I should write about it. My father receives the same response when he speaks of his career as a commercial ground fisherman back in the days of his youth. However, the circumstances of his career make it inappropriate in his mind to share his story publicly.

But I am not inspired to write in my father's place. Nor am I inspired simply by the idea of telling people how hard fishing is. I am inspired by those small blessings that I catch out of the corner of my eye while I'm frantically baiting a trap or stuffing bait bags. These small blessings inspire creativity in me.

So many fishermen are so caught up in the fever of fishing that they neglect to see the blessings. Yet even more fishermen notice the blessings (I hear them speak of them) and simply don't have the energy to manifest their inspirations. I've started bringing my small digital camera and taking pictures on the boat regularly. I printed some out for my Captain and he really appreciated them. He shared them with some of his fishing buddies. He said that he has intended to take pictures so many times, but often those moments are so fleeting that he doesn't have the chance. In fact, he has a disposable camera on board that I've seen him pick up once.

Anyway, my point is that I hope this blog will continue to act as my creative outlet in recording some of these inspiring blessings. I don't pretend to be any Linda Greenlaw by writing about my fishing career, nor will I ever be as amazing as that woman. But I do enjoy writing and a little photography. Fishing is currently a great source of inspiration for me. Maybe some day I'll have the nerve to share some of my little watercolor doodles of fishing too. :) Thanks for reading.

The Delicate Business of Shrimping

Shrimp trapping is unlike any other fishery. It is most comparable to lobstering, but more delicate in several aspects. The gear, the shrimp and the market are all very sensitive and require much patience, persistence, and a lot of work.

First of all, the traps are different from lobster traps. They are taller, heavier (4 bricks instead of 3), and the wire mesh is much weaker than that of lobster traps. The wire is of a smaller gauge and the mesh is finer, so that shrimp can't fit through it. This causes the

trap to be very susceptible to collapsing when exposed to any kind of pressure, whether it be from getting dragged in a shrimp net by a dragger or from the water pressure when the trap is hauled too

rapidly. The mesh size also makes these traps exceedingly difficult to handle. Lobster traps have a wide enough mesh so that one can fit one's fingers through it to handle (pick up and move) the trap. Not so with shrimp traps. Since you can't fit your fingers in the mesh, there is really only one way to lift the trap: by sticking one's hand into the trough and holding it from there. Some fishermen also put rope handles on one of the corners furthest from the bridle, so that you can lift with both hands.

The shrimp themselves are also very delicate critters. They are small and therefore they freeze

easily. This is not a problem if you're a dragger: the shrimp don't have to be alive when you get to the dock. However, if you are a trapper seeking the best market price possible, your shrimp need to be alive when they are unloaded from the boat. Therefore, the trays of shrimp need to be watered down with the seawater hose ever hour or so. The water also can't be too hot, though, so you have to water them down with the deck hose (which is fed from seawater that cools the engine) before a long steam, which has the effect of increasing the water temperature. We also secure lids on the trays to keep the wind off of them. On a really cold day I put a tarp over the trays with lids, to provide yet one more degree of protection from the bitter wind.

Shrimp also don't live long in a trap. Where lobsters can live for a week if not more when left in a trap (even without bait), shrimp really don't survive more than three nights when the population is as dense as it is in a trap. This means that you have to haul the traps (ideally on a 2 night set) regularly, regardless of weather, if you don't want the shrimp to die. Therefore, most shrimp trappers are out hauling virtually every day possible during the 5 or 6 weeks of good fishing. This makes for a very demanding, exhausting schedule. Shrimp fever.

Lastly the market. Oh the market! The shrimp market is the source of constant headaches and stress for shrimping captains. It is even more subjective and nonsensical than the lobster market. Frankly, I don't even begin to understand how it works on a large scale. All I know is that we sell to one company in one location. That company also buys in other locations on the Peninsula and offers a different price in each spot, according to convenience of shipping. We have to call by cell phone every day from the boat to make sure that they will buy our product. On any given day, the dock that we sell to could have reached their capacity of shrimp from other boats by the time that we steam in to the harbor. Luckily that hasn't happened this season, but last season there were horror stories of draggers getting turned away from the dock to which they've been loyal with thousands of pounds of shrimp on board. Not a happy situation. With that one company at that one location, we could receive one of three different price categories on a given day: dragged price, trapped price (usually 10 cents/lb more than dragged), or "boxed" price (the creme de la creme, probably being shipped to a sushi market). Furthermore, the price changes over the course of the season, just like the lobster market. It starts high and decreases during the peak of the season, and then creeps up again.

In other words, shrimping is a pain in the ass. Good exercize, yes. Working on the water, yes. But some of the most back-breaking work for the least reward of any fishery that I've experienced anyway.

Another Day in the Office

From here on out I'll refer to my Captain as "Cap, " since I'd like him to remain anonymous.

6 am- Meeting in Back Cove. Cap backs his truck down to "landing" by the footbridge where we unload very heavy trays of bait (probably 125 lbs--my body weight--each), buckets, and our daily supplies (lunch boxes and thermoses). Cap parks his truck and fetches the skiff. Then we load the skiff and motor a stone's throw to the

mooring.

6:15 am- We unload the trays and all our stuff onto the boat. Breathless from the lifting, Cap says "The hardest part of the day is over." Cap starts the boat. I fidget with my clothes, hair, oilskins, etc, until everything is "just so." We chat briefly while steaming out of the Cove. It's hard not to stare at the gorgeous hues of pinks and oranges flaming on the horizon as the sun rises. Everything is silhouetted by the blinding first light of the day.

6:30 am- We kick into action. I start flying around deck organizing trays, filling the hot tank with seawater, and setting up my bait for the day. I remove lids that keep the gulls out of our leftover bait overnight and confront the smelly mess of pulverized herring and rotten pogies from the day before. I begin stuffing bait nylon mesh bags with one pogy (head ripped off, cut along the underside and turned inside out), and a handfull of herring pulp each. Stuffing bait bags occupies me for the rest of the day whenever I have a free second (very rarely).

6:45 am- Cap locates the first buoy in our string, snags it with the gaff, and pulls it into the winch and then the hauler. The hauler lets out a loud whiny protest to hauling so much weight that early in the morning. The day has begun.

As the line is hauled, falling to the deck in snaking coils of purple, orange and black, I bait my bait irons with two full bait bags each. Each trap has two bait lines that secure two bait bags on either side of the white trough. Each buoy that we haul marks two traps, secured to the same line. The hauler screeches and I know that the trap has reached the water's surface. I assist Cap in pulling the trap onto the washrail. I slide the "lead" trap along the rail toward the stern and Cap pulls the second "tailer" trap onto the rail.

I remove the empty bait bags from the trap and thread full bags on the bait lines. Cap opens the door and we empty the trap together. This is done by him lowering his end while I lift the heavy end (with four bricks in it). (Yes, this is hard on the back.) Then we tilt the trap toward the side with the door, dumping the shrimp out into a tray. We do the lead trap first, then the tailer. He kicks the boat into gear and I bait the second trap while he positions us to set the pair of traps back in the same spot. I close up the traps and position them on the rail for setting. He sets the tailer first and when the "tailer warp" runs out, I push the lead trap into the water. Onto the next to start all over again. Between traps I am scrubbing the next tray, baiting the bait irons, watering shrimp with the saltwater deck hose to keep them from freezing, washing the mud off of the rail so that it doesn't drip into the shrimp tray, as well as pulling the full trays to the stern and stacking them.

Craziness. We are running full throttle all day. I barely find time for a hurried pee on my pee bucket, a sip of ginger tea, or a nibble of sustenance. I have to consciously remind myself to meet my basic needs so that I don't get too focused on the work and become dehydrated or lose energy from not eating.

For the rest of the work day we haul traps. We finish hauling at around 12:30 or 1pm. Then we

steam in, "park" near Pemaquid Point Lighthouse where we are under the shore and protected from the northerly wind. (The wind is usually some variation of northerly this time of year.) We go through all of the trays of shrimp one by one pouring them into an empty tray and picking out the dead shrimp. Cap is big on quality, not just quantity, in hopes of fetching the

optimum market price.

Once our shrimp is "perfect," we steam to South Bristol. I scrub

down the boat with soapy water on the way so that it sparkles. Cap doesn't want them to see a spot of mud at the dock, so that it looks like we will have a clean product. As we steam into the harbor, we pass Witch Island, where I lived two summers ago. We pass the South Bristol co-op dock, where I wave to the fishermen I know. We pull up to the dock. Cap secures the bow and I tie off the stern. The dock hands run the hoist, lowering rope loops that

we loop under three stacked trays full of shrimp at a time. Once the trays are unloaded, they lower down empty trays for us to fill the next day. Then Cap lowers the diesel pump down to me and I fuel up the boat. We chat briefly with the dock hands and then push off to steam home.

On the steam home I am busy preparing for the next day. There are many bait bags to be filled! We use 150 bait bags in a day. Cap is kind to help me out. He busts pogies up, while I stuff bags.

Then comes my favorite part of the day.

We pass The Thompson Cottages, built by my Grandpa, owned by folks, and some day to be mine. My heart brims with pride and gratitude. But I try not to look at them too hard, because I might stuff my glove with herring slop instead of the bag!

We get to Back Cove by 2 or 3 pm. We are both exhausted. My back is in pain. I ask: "Same thing tomorrow?" Cap replies "Yep." The day is done.

Ghosts Down Under

It is the height of shrimp trapping season in mid-coast Maine. I am a burned-out sternlady caught up in shrimp fever, wondering how I got here.

Last fall on my second to last day of work doing a SCUBA diving lobster research internship, my old lobstering captain gave me a call in desperate need of a deck hand. I didn't have a job lined up and was excited to work with him again. We survived winter lobstering together. Although I worked as a sternlady for two summers in college, it was my first full winter working on the ocean. I quickly learned that it is a completely different game from the summer season. We were steaming an hour one way to haul traps 15-20 miles offshore in rough seas and bitter cold. BUT, since we were working so far away from land, the wind and waves would be more exaggerated and there would be 3 or four days in a week when it was too rough to be out. So hard work was punctuated with periods of rest. Not so with shrimping.

My captain and I are out on the water hauling about 75 traps a day for two days and then preparing bait/recuperating for one day. In other words, we don't have any real days off. In fact, we haven't had a day off for the past month. Shrimping takes place much closer to shore (about a mile from land), so we can go out in most weather. Also, the shrimp will die if they sit in a trap for more than three nights, so this is good incentive to haul as often as we possibly can. The shrimp draggers are just dropping off in their catch, which is good news for us. When the draggers start complaining, it means that the shrimp are dropping their eggs, getting hungry and going for the bait (herring pulp and inside-out pogies) in traps. However, this doesn't mean that the draggers should give up and go home. There might be another wave of shrimp that migrate toward shore to lay their eggs.

A bit about Northern shrimp (on the bottom in picture). Shrimp are hermaphroditic. For the first two years of their life they are male, then they have a sex change and become female. All of the shrimp that are big enough to be caught in nets or traps are female. They migrate north, or toward land, in order to lay eggs from December through March in Maine. The females invest all of their energy in their eggs and once the eggs hatch, the females are starving, so they are attracted to bait in the traps.

The catch is picking up and the trappers are getting hungry. Even though the price has dropped a bit (60 to 55 cents/lb, roughly), trappers are betting on quantity at the peak of the season. There is a frenzy to haul as much as possible.

Over the past week we have hauled a few traps with open doors. This is not a good thing, because a trap won't catch anything if the shrimp can escape through the doors! We were recently approached on the water by two different captains who asked if we had seen the same thing (doors open, bait bags missing, shrimp gone). Sure enough we had. Yesterday one captain was convinced that he knew who was doing this and steamed over to the suspect in a rage to give him a talking to. My captain thinks that seals are doing it. Harbor seals are smart and agile. They could easily figure out how to pull the twine handle on the hook that fixes the door shut. It makes sense that bait bags would be missing if seals were stealing the shrimp and trying to eat the bait. Whoever the ghosts are down there, they are getting a good fix of shrimp and provoking a lot of fishermen!