The time has come to plan for the new year......... We are here for you come snow or high water!

A Delicate Subject in the Alaska Fishing Community

The following news item is one of several on the subject that is circulating throughout the Alaska fishing community these days.

http://www.alaskapublic.org/2011/09/26/former-crew-members-attempted-to-turn-in-fuglvog/

Some thoughts from Captain Mac -

As many of you know, I have been involved in fisheries politics for over 30 years. Since 1993 I have been particularly active in halibut issues. Halibut is a “federal” fish, by virtue of the fact that it is managed by an international convention between the U.S. and Canada.

As an international, federally managed fish, many layers of law and bureaucracy affect halibut. The primary U.S. agency that governs halibut is the Department of Commerce, and its sub-agencies, NOAA fisheries, and the National Marine Fisheries Service, or NMFS. The primary laws affecting halibut are the Northern Pacific Halibut Act of 1982, and the Magnuson-Stevens Act, commonly called “The 200-mile limit law” because it kept hungry foreign fishing fleets beyond 200 miles of our coastline.

In addition to many other facets of the law, Magnuson-Stevens created a series of eight Fishery Management Councils that cover the entire U.S coastline, including the Gulf of Mexico and the eastern seaboard. The Council that is responsible for the federal waters and fish off Alaska is called the North Pacific Fishery Management Council (NPFMC) and is usually referred to as the ”North Council.”

The Council process is very deliberative and is constrained by many federal laws and processes requiring in-depth analysis, public input and rigid administrative procedures. It takes forever to get anything through the Council and into law or regulation, and sometimes by the time it becomes law it is already flawed and outdated. State fisheries management does not have near as much red tape.

Some would say that the Council process is proper in that it mandates these deliberative procedures and assures that the public is involved in the process. It sounds good, but in practice it doesn’t always work the way it was intended, especially at the North Council as it struggles to deal with recreational fisheries.

The various commercial fisheries off Alaska are huge, so it follows that federal concern and jurisdiction is almost entirely directed toward commercial, not recreational fisheries. As a result most of the North Council’s eleven voting members are linked to, or have commercial fishing backgrounds. Even the State of Alaska’s representative on the Council, the Commissioner of the Alaska Department of Fish and Game (ADFG) invariably comes from the commercial sector of state fisheries management. In fact there is only one recreational fishery representative on the North Council. One out of eleven. So it is little wonder that issues involving recreational fisheries that compete with commercial interests do not get a fair hearing. Votes involving recreational issues are defeated by a 10 to 1 margin with monotonous regularity. The North Council also has an Advisory Panel (AP) comprising about 20 members, give or take. Similarly there is only one, or occasionally two recreational representatives on the AP. And similarly, in spite of a preponderance of public comment to the contrary, recreational issues go down by votes of 19 to 1 or 2. The North Council was intentioned to deal with commercial fisheries and it was never envisioned, nor is it structured or equipped to deal fairly and appropriately with recreational fishing issues.

What recreational fishing issues does the North Council have to deal with? There is only one. Halibut. The federal fish. And it is a minuscule amount of fish in the grand scheme of the fisheries of the North Pacific that the Council must deal with on a regular basis.

And how does one get to be a voting member on the Councils? Through political recommendations and appointments. Surprise, surprise.

Since 1993 I have served on three committees at the NPFMC relating to sport and charter halibut issues. No, I was not a political appointee. I volunteered and paid all my own travel, lodging and meal expenses to serve on those committees. I wanted to know what was going on in the federal regulation of our industry so I could prepare myself and inform other charter operators and lodge owners.

So what has all this to do with the news article and Arne Fuglvog?

The North Council was where I first met Arne, over 20 years ago. He and a few of his associates initiated the anti-recreational halibut wars at the North Council and were formidable opponents to the fledgling sport halibut fisheries that they viewed as threatening to them. I sat across the table from him at committee meetings and gave testimony before him and the rest of the Council countless times when he was a Council member. He was an influential, bright young man and a rising star in the fisheries management world. The news story tells the rest. In fact, in early 2009 he was considered a strong contender to head NMFS, the very agency responsible for enforcing federal fisheries regulations. See:  http://deckboss.blogspot.com/2009/04/another-alaskan-to-head-nmfs.html

  Photo by: ERIK HILL / Anchorage Daily News Arne Fuglvog, former fisheries aide 

for Sen. Lisa Murkowski, leaves federal court Thursday morning, Aug. 11, 2011, in Anchorage.

Ten months in jail is only the beginning of his worries. He is still a young man, in his forties. He will also pay $150,000 in fines. His licenses will likely be stripped from him, and the fishing community will hold him in contempt for the rest of his life. He is a fifth-generation commercial fisherman who has held many influential positions in fisheries management agencies and has been awarded the U.S. National Fisherman Highliner of the Year as well as the commercial fishermen’s union’s United Fishermen of Alaska's Fisherman of the Year.

It will be a long way down for Arne.
http://www.alaskadispatch.com/article/former-murkowski-fisheries-aide-headed-prison

But the real tragedy in this story is that the behavior that brought down Arne is not limited to just this one person. Rumors and stories are rampant about the abuses that commercial fishermen inflict on the resources upon which they depend for their livelihood. There is a mentality among many (not all, but many) in the fleet that says, “I need to get mine before it is all gone.” Arne was an icon, an award-winning professional, a highliner. If Arne is not above such action, then who in the commercial fishing industry is? The word on the street in his home town of Petersburg is that many are worried about what Arne knows, and who he might implicate to mitigate his own circumstances.

Meanwhile the charter industry is being subjected to what I believe is unprecedented scrutiny, and dare I say harassment, by federal (NOAA/NMFS/USCG) enforcement activities. Do I have proof of this? Can I produce statistics and history of enforcement activities? No, I cannot. All I know is that in all my years in the business I do not recall a time when there has been this much going on, enforcement wise, in the charter industry. I also know that when the USCG launch comes alongside in preparation for a boarding, the first question they ask these days is, “Do you have any halibut on board?” If you say no, they will usually not board you. If you say yes, they certainly will. Why is the Coast Guard so interested in halibut all of a sudden? And why should that affect whether they board you or not?

The agencies will tell you there is justification for these actions. That may well be true. They certainly have been able to make their charges stick. But what about the likes of Arne in the commercial sector? Is there a like amount of energy being directed towards them? How much damage can a commercial vessel inflict as compared to the average charterboat? The commercial take of the halibut resource is over 80%. Certain sectors of the commercial fisheries waste up to three times the total sport halibut catch. If conservation concerns are really what is driving these enforcement activities, couldn’t that effort be better directed where there is a greater possibility of some serious damage being done?

Breaking the law cannot be condoned, no matter who it is or in what sector it occurs. And you can’t fault the boots in the boats, the enforcement officers and Coast Guard men and women. They are courteous and professional in doing their duty and carrying out their instructions. But you have to ask, where are their orders coming from and why is this apparent increase in enforcement attention, effort and money being directed at the charter industry at this time? 

Charter operators, particularly in Southeast Alaska have been subjected to halibut restrictions that, if left in place for just a few more years, will decimate the industry and eliminate it as a competing fishery for halibut.  Could the politically powerful and well-healed commercial sector have a stake in the outcome? Could people like Arne, closely aligned with commercial fishing interests and very tight with top federal regulators, have influenced the decisions that have caused so much chaos in the recreational side of the halibut fishery? When Southeast Alaska charter fishermen are eliminated as viable competitors for halibut, who is next?

And ask yourself which sector, commercial or sport, has the potential to do the most damage to the halibut resource. Remember the story of Arne the highliner. Was he the only one?

Mac      

                                     More articles on Arne Fuglvog

Congratulations to Mary Kaye!

Alaska Magazine Contest

Win a trip to Sportsman's Cove Lodge
Contest began March 15th and ends April 30th. Go to the link above to enter or find out more details!

Cape Chacon Part IV

Captain Mac’s note:

Finally...the closing chapter in deckhand Jonathan Bender’s saga of his fishing trip to the fabled waters of Cape Chacon, at the southern tip of Prince of Wales Island, Alaska. My apologies for taking so long to complete the story. The season caught up with me and that was the end of any opportunities to update the blog.

There are three previous parts to the story. This is the fourth and final segment. You will have to back to the blog archives for November of 2009 to pick up the thread in Part I. By the way, Jon’s captain, Brad, mentioned in the story, happens to be my son. Brad is now the General Manager of Mount Spokane Ski & Snowboard Park in Eastern Washington state.

Hope you enjoy Jon’s story.

Honor Among Friends!

A handful of retired classmates of the Canadian Naval College and I took on a 50th year class project. Our goal was to replace a faded photo (photos above) of one of our own, who had fallen three days before Christmas, 1964, while on loan to the United States Coast Guard. We completed this task in March of this year.

A 'Press Release" put out by the Coast Guard on March 31, 2010 by LT Todd Vorenkamp, detailed the story behind the visit.

McKinleyville, CA - A group of former Canadian military officers visited Coast Guard Group Humboldt Bay to remember fallen shipmate Royal Canadian Navy pilot and U.S. Coast Guard exchange aviator, Sub lieutenant Allen Alltree, on Wednesday.

Sub Lt. Alltree was killed near Trinidad, CA., in the tragic crash of Coast Guard helicopter CG-1363 on December 22, 1964 while on a rescue mission.

In December of 1964 the "Storm of the Century" had hit northern California. The Eel River was well above the flood stage and local emergency services were overwhelmed. The Humboldt County Sheriff's Office requested assistance from Coast Guard Air Station San Francisco to evacuate 16 stranded persons in danger of being engulfed by the rising waters on Cock Robin Island. The island, at the mouth of the Eel River was 200 miles north of San Francisco. That morning, a Sikorsky HH-52A Seaguard helicopter was airborne with Lt. Donald L. Prince, USGC, pilot; Sub Lt. Alltree, copilot; and James A. Nininger, Jr., Aviation Electricians Mate second class, USGC, crewman.

The helicopter arrived on scene at about 2:50 p.m., and, in spite of rain, fog, and extremely high winds, commenced rescue operations. Late in the afternoon, after having rescued at least 20 people from the raging flood waters, the helicopter landed its last 5 survivors at the Humboldt County Fairgrounds in Ferndale, CA. Mr. Bud Hansen, a local dairy farmer, volunteered to assist the Coast Guard crew in finding more neighbors before darkness made the searching impossible. The helicopter departed in "terrific winds and heavy rainfall." Now in darkness, they made three more rescues, hoisting Mrs. Marine Bahnsen, Mrs. Betty Kemp and her baby, Melanie.

Darkness had settled and fuel was getting low. The crew flew north towards the Arcata Airport where they had fueled earlier in the afternoon. With low visibility the crew was forced to fly offshore. Due to power failures from the storm, the airport lighting was inoperative. The crew realized they had missed the airport when they picked up a radio bearing north of Trinidad. In turning back to the south, the extremely high winds pushed them inland where they impacted the terrain at 1200-feet above sea level, coming to rest in a stand of Redwood trees. Due to the terrible weather conditions, it took rescuers five days to locate and hike to the wreckage site where they found the helicopter completely demolished and all on board deceased. Medical experts reported that death for all had been instantaneous.

Sub. Lt. Alltree and the rest of the aircrew posthumously received Air Medals for meritorious achievement in aerial flight. In October 1998, Bud Hansen was posthumously awarded the Meritorious Public Service Award for his selfless act of heroism, in putting his neighbor's interest above his own.


My classmates from L to R - Ken Scotten, Ed Vishek, Wilf Lund, Finlay Sterling, Myself, and Larry Lott with Captain Chris Martino, Commanding Officer, USCG Humboldt Bay Air Station.)

"It was our honor to host these Canadian officers and their families for today's ceremony," said Lt. Todd Vorenkamp, public affairs officer for Group Humboldt Bay. "As an exchange pilot, Sub Lt. Alltree was a member of our Coast Guard family, and it is a privilege to meet his Canadian shipmates and hear stories about someone who was a member of a crew that heroically gave their lives while saving others."

Royal Canadian Navy Captain Wilfred Lund (retired) contacted the Coast Guard in January and expressed a desire to gather some Canadian classmates of Alltree and update the photo of Alltree in the Coast Guard's Humboldt Bay memorial. Lund and the other officers had discussed a visit to the USCG Air Station after a reunion last year After several days of rain, the skies cleared for Wednesday's event. "Al brought us some good weather," said Captain Lund before the ceremony.



Each member of the contingency of retired Canadian naval officers had a specific contribution to make in the ceremony. My part was to present the new photograph to the Commanding Officer, Captain Chris Martino (seen in the photo above with me). I reminded the gathering that the Coast Guard has an unwritten creed: "When people are in trouble and life is in peril, you have to go out. And you don't always come back."

After the ceremony, Captain Martino, Commanding Officer of the Humboldt Bay Air Station shook hands with each of us and in his palm he held the Coast Guard Medallion shown here, giving one to each of us. It was a moving experience, and it reminded me of how fortunate we are to have such dedicated and professional members in our Armed Forces, and of the sacrifices that our young men and women make every day.


The security and freedom we enjoy is not free.

Note: Captain Mac spent altogether approximately 9 years in the Royal Canadian Navy. He has been a naturalized American citizen for over 40 years. He says, "I am proud of my Canadian heritage, but also very proud to be an American, which took an active decision on my part. I am an immigrant in the great American tradition. I am an American by choice."

Jonathan Bender's Cape Chacon - Part III

Part I of this Series was posted back in November of 2009. Part II was posted in January 2010. You have to click on the Blog Archive for the appropriate month to bring them up. If you haven't been following the story go back now to the archives and pick up the thread. Enjoy!

Captain Mac

On the first two days of their trip, fishing out of the Lodge, we’d connected with huge schools of migrating silvers, and had been treated to the non-stop action we called “Coho Chaos” that comes standard in such cases. For hours, at no time were there less than three people hooked up; the darting silvers taking bullet-runs every which way; me shouting, “Over!” “Under!” Guiding the fishermen, trying to prevent line-tangles. All the while, I’d struggled to keep up with the action, retying rigs and baiting hooks in the spaces between netting, often two fish at a time. The intensity of these silver footballs of muscle never ceases to amaze me. My favorite incident this trip occurred on the first hookup, when Tim had announced, “I think my line broke,” upon noticing that it had gone slack. “Reel!” I shouted, trying to deliver some urgency to the situation. Just then, I noticed the chartreuse lead zipping under the boat. The fish was passing us!

So by one in the afternoon, having gotten their fill of salmon, the sextet had unanimously supported the pursuit of Tim’s trophy. Over those first two afternoons, the group brought in eight halibut, all less than 50 lbs. (excellent eating), and innumerable cod to round out each day, but we hadn’t gotten the big one that Tim wanted. I had reassured them that we still had Cape Chacon, and a good bet for the trophy.

Cape Chacon is the southernmost point of the Island, facing open water. (See the chart in Part I) There, weather permitting, lies some of the best bottom fishing in the world. Two opposing currents collide, welling up nutrients from deeper waters that result in tremendous feeding frenzies. Huge schools of feeding black rockfish commonly called “sea bass” are occasionally mauled by a giant lingcod, while bright king salmon dart past, snatching up stray herring. Occasionally, when we’re lucky, we’re treated to a rare group of frenzied halibut, up from the depths to gorge themselves on whatever strays a bit from the cover of the rocky pinnacles. In these cases, a boatload of excitement is multiplied by double, even triple hook-ups. On the previous day, I had started filling the minds of our guests with such tales, such anticipation, being sure to qualify everything with the tag lines, “on good days,” “if we’re lucky,” or, “if you’re good.” The third being a bit strategic with this group, a comment that serves to both challenge and bolster their manly pride.

The coast here is magnificent. 300-foot cliffs, jagged and gnarled, are a testament to the kinds of storms that regularly visit here. A few gnarled, twisted trees cling to the rocks near the top, a sort of masthead on the island’s bow and breakwater; the only representatives of the land that dare face the dominion of this sea. Today is bright and calm, the only conditions in which we brave these often-violent waters. I’ve tied up over 100 rigs, and they’re hanging from the rubber trim atop the cabin window, a strange, functionless curtain. We’ve started the group off with the heavier halibut rods, since the chance of hooking a 50 lb. lingcod or a large halibut is high, and we want to be prepared for that trophy if it hits. We arrive at the pinnacles where we usually have some success and set up for the first drift. As soon as everyone drops, bam! Four hookups. Before those first four make it to the deck, the other two are on. I’m running around, gaffing everything in sight (netting is too messy for rockfish), trying to keep everyone baited. Tim’s dad, Jerry, while bringing up a black rockfish, notices a dark shadow lumbering behind it. “Give’em some slack!” I instruct. He drops his rod tip and almost immediately it doubles over from the weight of the huge preying lingcod. I know the lingcod is most likely not hooked, just greedy, refusing to release the meal from it’s gaping, toothy grip, and I tell Jerry, this time calmly, “Whatever you do, don’t lift it out of the water. Only up to the surface.” I’m going to have to place the net under the big fish very carefully so as not to spook it, then net it, and hoist it over the rail and into the boat quickly. “Help us out. Clear a space!” I announce, “This thing’s going to go ballistic as soon as it feels the net!” Gingerly but as quickly as possible I position the net under the big fish and give a mighty heave, trying to fluidly move into a lift, as I bring the gruesome thing in over the side. It’s a twisting, angry, snapping 35-pounder, and I’ve got to ‘subdue’ it quickly, with the aid of my trusty aluminum club.• This kind of scene is constant for three hours, with short, five-minute breaks for us to reset the drift.

• Captain Mac’s Note: At the time of this trip there was no slot limit for lingcod. Today at Cape Chacon a lingcod must fit within a 30” to 35” “slot” – the fish must be no less than 30” long and no more that 35”. Still a pretty nice fish!

At one point, Jim, another of the sons, brings in a 35-pound king salmon after a 20-minute battle, bright chrome with that characteristic purple tint along the sides. Such a catch is enough to request everyone else to bring in their lines, giving me a short break while we fight the king. But Tim ignores the request and instead moves to the opposite end of the 37 foot boat, away from the action. He is on a mission. I steal occasional glances at him, making sure he is all right. He is concentrating intensely on the sparkling, mysterious water, almost mesmerized. "C'mon fish. C'mon fish."

To be continued