pribilof

As we look to our trusty dictionary put together in Webster’s name, Third College Edition, to find the word “confidence” we find a part of the definition: belief in ones own abilities; the fact of being or feeling certain. Very cool words. Words that as young people we have been taught to believe in, to accept and to cherish because they, the meanings of these words, will carry us a long way to success in our lives.

In Alaska today, as in many other places throughout our shrinking planet, we are experiencing something so ominous that never before in the history of humanity we have ever experienced anything like it. We debate; question; lay out facts; make movies; win Nobel Peace Prizes, and yes, write opinions about global warming, or climate change as some choose to call it. Global warming. Interesting group of words. As in the globe is warming. The Earth is warming. Very interesting choice of words. And the facts are indisputable. It is happening.

Now, I can list the many examples and scientific facts of how we know for certain that global warming is happening, tell you who is saying what, where, and why. I can use the models that say this part of the globe is warming a degree here, a degree there. We can assemble a whole bunch of lists of examples of weather changes all examples of how temperature changes impact our weather, and ultimately our people, humanity. But, you can read that elsewhere. This is not one of those articles. This is a simple paper, thoughts, words about what I see and how I understand what is happening to my people here in Alaska, the Last Frontier.   

We, Alaska’s Native Peoples, indigenous peoples, have a long and proud history in our home. We settled here, in a place some call a frozen wasteland, birthplace of the winds, to raise families, develop cultures and a lifestyle from a rich but often unforgiving environment. And today, we take much pride, a healthy pride in what we have accomplished. We still speak a language handed down to us over hundreds and thousands of years. We still-hunt and gather our foods, as did our ancestors. We still call this place our home. We are still here. Now, as never before, we wonder in our homes, beside our wood fires, gathered around our dinner places, speaking to our children, wondering how much longer we are going to be here. Where are we going to be? In our villages or moving to the larger and more unforgiving cities, places where crime is rampant and food is scarce. Food, that is, that we know and have confidence in that is healthy for our diets. We just don’t know.

Local and national newspapers are filling with news about the plight of our home. Erosion from ocean storms is cutting into the security, the places on land where we live and have lived. Land is washing away, giving way to angry water. Winter is settling in, in ways never before experienced. And we are hunting for foods growing more and more scarce. Our animals, once respectful of our ways, are moving away and not coming back to offer themselves to us. They don’t respect us any longer. And we grow hungry. And we only drive motor bikes, bikes that leave such a small footprint of carbon that it is not we who have brought this plight, but someone else, someone far from our shores. But we are suffering. And the animals don’t respect us any longer.

We at Greenpeace have gone, on two consecutive seasons, to the Bering Sea to bear witness, to learn first hand the plight of our people. We have traveled hundreds and thousands of miles in our boats; a leased MV Pacific Storm and our own MY Esperanza to seek insights from our people about what is happening and how we can help to make a change. We came to the Bering Sea and the Gulf of Alaska to find answers, only to find more questions. We listened, interviewed, filmed, talked, and planned. We are here. And we are still seeking answers.

Food is becoming scarce. Not only is the food we depend upon harder and more difficult to capture, but the food we use as economy to buy food from our shrinking shops, imported to supplement our diets. Fuel to drive our motor bikes, power our skiffs our boats, is expensive, in some places a gallon well over seven dollars. Oil to heat our homes comes from Venezuela, a foreign government. And we are here.

From our works, our interviews, our films, and our talks, we think we might have found a way to help insure longevity for our people in our villages, for all of us actually. To ensure food, health and a return to a vibrant culture, perhaps we can etch out zones in the water, in the Bering Sea, the Gulf of Alaska, where we can begin to rebuild a home for our animals and plants. We call these zones, cultural heritage zones to emphasize the best of what we are. (I speak of “we” in both the sense of being Alaska Native and a member of humanity) Zones in the water protected from the destructive practices of the way western man harvests fish and now think is normal.  Ways that destroy, perhaps forever, in one’s lifetime, that is forever, habitat critical to the needs of our foods and our homes. Ways that, unless we put a stop to their insidious creeping crawling scraping of the oceans floors, are insuring our end to survival as Alaska’s first peoples, not to mention the creation of another George’s Banks. Large commercialized factories on the water called trawlers are doing this and the animals are blaming us. They don’t know we respect them. They, our foods think, it is we, collectively, destroying their homes, and perhaps they are right. For if we do not speak up to put an end to this practice of sweeping up the floors of our waters, yes, it is a collective destructive force no matter who is doing it. Cultural heritage zones! What an idea. What an answer to our needs, to our questions. Protective areas where we can ensure the health of our foods, where they, our foods can regain their respect for us, where once again, we can have confidence in who we are and what we do.

The water changes color, temperature and viscosity. We wonder about its health, leading to our way of life. The globe, the Earth, the planet is warming and our hearts have become colder, facing questions too difficult to answer. But, we are here, working and seeking. Join us in our quest to regain confidence, to regain the trust of our foods, our animals and plants. Join us as we move to continue our cultural heritage place on this planet we call Mother Earth.  

Action Needed

North Pacific Fishery Management Council discusses more fish deaths!

11 December 10, 2007

We need all your help. I am asking that you please send a message to the North Pacific Fishery Management Council’s (NPFMC) Scientific and Statistical Committee (SSC) that our information, our science and our opinions should be considered. Anyway, here is some information I learned last week during the NPFMC’s meeting here in Anchorage. It might be confusing, but so is a lot of information they produce.

I will try to explain them, but if you don’t understand them, let me know or check the web site of the Council  … http://www.fakr.noaa.gov/npfmc/ and look around. Anyway, here goes.

The pacific cod fishery is on the decline in the Gulf of Alaska, as well as in the Bering Sea. To that fishery, a quota is set for halibut by catch. Without using the actual numbers, because we are talking hundreds of thousands of metric tons, I will use an example. Let us say the quota for the pacific cod in the Gulf of Alaska is 1000 pounds. This is just an example. The actual quota of Pacific cod in the Gulf of Alaska is set in 1996 was 68,000 metric tons. The total allowable catch quota for that year was 65,000 mt. Now, the rest are not actual numbers because I just want to get a point across. In order to catch that amount, 68,000 metric tons there is going to be by catch, or fish that are caught and discarded or thrown away. So this is an example of what happened at the NPFMC’s Advisory Panel on Friday. Again, its an example. The Cod is going down in numbers. So a lower quota was set for how much cod can be caught. As I mentioned earlier, a set amount of halibut by catch was also determined. Since the cod is declining, the fishing industry wants to transfer a portion of the by catch amount from the cod fishery into another fishery; for example, yellow-fin sole. Rather than decrease the amount of halibut to be killed in the cod fishery, lets move a percentage of the kill into another fishery, just to make sure we can still kill that same amount of halibut. Does that make any sense? Do you see the moral dilemma here? Like I said, it is really confusing, so if you don’t see it, not to worry.

Now here is where I would like to ask your help. This is an ACTION.

I sent an email to the Chairperson of the NPFMC’s Scientific and Statistical Committee (SSC). This committee is made up of scientists and PhD’s to over see the “best available science” needs of the Great Pacific Northwest/Bering Sea fishery and its health of the ecosystem. I asked her if we can have 15 minutes of their time to view and discuss our findings of the Canyons last summer. This is what she told me: “We have seen your DVD. Unless there is something new, we can skip the presentation this time. You did show it during the evening last October, and most of the Committee saw it.” That is a paraphrase. If you want to see her actual email response, just ask. Anyway, since she has admitted to having seen our work, I want to ask for your help. Please send her and email asking her what she thought of our work on the Canyons. Here is her name and email as well as that of other SSC members.

1. Pat Livingston, Chair                pat.livingston@noaa.gov

2. Dr. George Hunt                    geohunt2@u.washington.edu

3. Ken Pitcher                            ken.pitcher@fishgame.state.ak.us

4. Dr. Gordon Kruse                    gordon.kruse@uaf.edu

I ask you to send each of these people an email asking them what they thought of our Canyons work. I would like to get as many emails going to them as possible. Please help. Ms. Livingston said they saw our work, so they should have an opinion.

Thank you very much.

George Pletnikoff

I hope I can shed some light on how this North Pacific Fishery Management Council process takes place, of course from a position of bias and not so happy.

I have been attending the Council meetings, off and on, for about 20 years or so. Began back in the day when we were fighting for the establishment of the Community Development Quota (CDQ) program which we hoped at the time would benefit the villages. It was a long battle and one you can read about just by goggling it, if you are interested. I want to, however say a few words about that later, as it sorely impacts the people in the villages.

If you want to know the details about the Council process you can also get on their web page at www.fakr.noaa.gov/npfmc. That is an interesting site. So I will simply give you a perspective from someone who is from a village, and also from my position as a Campaigner, time and space allowing.

Lets see. If I were living on St. Paul Island and I wanted to submit a comment on some issue the Council was addressing, it would probably go something like this.

The issue. Crab. How much? Well this year, some 63 million pounds. Sounds impressive, but when I was the pastor on St. Paul some 10 years ago, the quota was 250 million pounds, and the entire season began 15 January and lasted sometimes into May. Now its just about 2 weeks before the quota is caught. So lets say, I am an employee of the City government. We are interested because of the raw fish taxes we get from the processing of the product and the additional services, such as fuel sales, dockage fees, grocery sales and additional other services. So the local economy benefits from this activity. Now, keep in mind that I am working for a municipal government which probably can afford the rest of the story. The Tribes? Probably cannot afford to do this.

So, I write a position paper and submit it to the Council for consideration. Then it is decided that I should attend the meeting to submit verbal testimony to support our written position. I have to travel. Well, so, from St. Paul to Anchorage, where the meetings are usually held; sometimes they are held in Seattle Washington or Portland Oregon. So I have to buy a ticket. A round trip ticket to Anchorage from St. Paul on PenAir is about $900.00. Then I have to get a hotel and food, and maybe a car, but certainly a cab. So additional $180.00 per day per diem, or there abouts. So for one week, at $180.00 per day is? Ya, $1260.00. So now, with the air fare that totals, ya, $2,160.00 just to attend! For one person! There are other costs too, like being away from home, family, incidental expenses, etc.

So, usually the Council begins meeting on a Monday. The SSC or the Scientific and Statistical Committee begins bright and early in the morning. Now I have to follow the issue and try to figure out where and when the issue will be addressed by the committee. Sometimes, and more often than not, the agenda is moved around, often without much notice, so I have to sit there throughout the entire day and listen to hours and hours of stuff I have not idea about. This report, that testimony. Lots of stuff. Oh we get breaks, and when that happens, I will try to corner someone from the committee to lobby. But I am relatively unknown, and often the members have buds or other people who are "council groopies" that are better known and more attuned to the issues that get the time and the ears. So, I try to wiggle my way into some conversation with someone. Then back to the meeting and more listening. Now, the issue on the crab is being discussed. First there will be staff reports, scientist reports, and others who signed up to testify. Then, if I signed up, my time will come. I am called to the hot seat by the chairperson. The committee are all sitting at tables arranged usually in kinda a circle, with table cloths shrouded on them, microphones, lots of papers and folders and notebooks, really looking knowledgeable. So I walk up to the table, sit down, introduce myself and say what issue I want to address. Now, figure. An entire table of experts. An audience of about 30 people. Bright lights. Microphones. And I begin to talk. Usually I will have about 3 to 6 minutes to say what I wanna say. Then questions from the committee, if any, and I am done. Whew...public speaking. Not fun. 

But that is basically what happens, and happens both at the Advisory Panel (AP), which meets from Monday to usually Friday of the same week, and usually at the same time as the SSC is meeting, and sometimes the issue I wanna comment on is taken up at the same time there as in the SSC. Sometimes not. And all three meet in different rooms, and,yes, usually at the same times.  But with the AP, the process is the same, and same set up, but this time with about 25 or so members on the panel. And 3 to 6 minutes to talk. And with the Council itself, usually the same. They usually meet from Tuesday to Saturday or Sunday. But here it is more intimidating, cause, well, they are THE Council. They have a bigger room with bigger tables and bigger chairs and more of an audience. And here, you get 3 minutes for an individual and 6 minutes for an organization to testify, and no more. There are green, yellow and red lights to tell you how much time you have. And, the Chair will say, "...thank you, your time is up." Any questions from the Council? If not, thanks. And its done. Here again, with the AP and the Council you try to lobby during breaks, but you also have additional competition from the other folks there. Lobbyists, processors, lawyers, fishers and long time friends who usually have the ear of the people you wanna talk to. And if you are lucky to get a Council member to talk to its usually really quick. They are on a break and have to go to the restroom or do something else. I personally have found some more approachable when I have followed them into the restroom, at least I can talk to them. So it is very difficult and extremely intimidating.

So, when John Hovevar wrote about our experience? Well, it was really something else. Imagine a person who lives in a village trying to do this. Imagine a person who's second language is english trying to do this. The expense? The intimidation? Ya, very little gets done if you are from a village. Unless of course if you are representing a CDQ organization, well, thats totally different. You will have bocoo bucks and paid lobbyists and lawyers to help you and speak for you. I have heard some of the executive directors of these organizations get paid upwards of $300,000 a year. They do this stuff. It is intimidating and really frustrating when and if you are a Tribal president trying to effectuate change. To protect your foods and your homes. It is nearly impossible to do it through this process.

This is why, it seems to me, the cultural heritage zones are the best chance to get protections for our families. We need to have a flag to rally around, an issue that makes sense. We need to help the people. We need support. For this, I am so grateful that Greenpeace is stepping up to the plate, not only to work to protect the oceans and habitat, but to help and support the Tribes on this planet we call mother earth.

This process is not fun. Not developed for people who live in villages, thats for sure. Too expensive and too foreign to our ways of living and communicating. But....? 

 

Thirty six years ago this month, September 1971 President Richard M. Nixon said, perhaps from his oval office in the White House, “FIRE!” Suddenly the entire Island of Amchitka, in the Aleutian Island Chain, erupted. Boom! The ground heaved in sudden turmoil, ripped apart. Wildlife, unprotected and not even given a warning, suddenly were thrashed to the point that even the eyeballs of the sea otter slammed through their skulls. Birds ran, literally, and some flew, to find cover. The world shook and would never be the same. The largest underground nuclear test bomb in history was triggered on and in Alaska; on and in an Island Chain that is on the Great Pacific Ring of Fire. A big bomb, suddenly destroying a National Wildlife Refuge.

I was there last month as part of a team of people from Greenpeace to bear witness. I walked up steep unforgiving cliffs, slogged through deep tundra, crawling to the exact site of the test, of a nuclear bomb they called Cannikin. And it was….wow, lack of words. Scary. We did this on a National Wildlife Refuge in Alaska. And today, although there is lots of greens, plants, berries and fresh water, we could not, dared not even taste of this dirge. It is, was, and perhaps forever will be dead.

Greenpeace went there because thirty-six years ago, we got started by a few people in Vancouver B.C. who felt, as we all do today, that this act was not acceptable, not in Alaska, not anywhere. We went there because we wanted to bear witness that we must not allow anything like this to happen anywhere in the world again. We must not build bombs to destroy anything; people, plants; animals; the earth, our Mother Earth.

While there, one has so much to think and meditate about. It is silent. Empty. It is alone. By itself. Not a part of any other thing. Not even a partner to its neighboring Islands. Not even a self-respecting jellyfish was seen. And we could not drink the water!

Now, we did this with the idea that perhaps we might be able to warn the Soviet Government of Russia that we have big bombs, that we are someone to be afraid of, that we are powerful. The result of that thinking? They built more and bigger bombs with nary an end in sight.

Sadly, being at Amchitka was like looking into a future devoid of life. Even more sad is that perhaps what happened there is in some sense happening again, but this time with another big bomb, and right under our noses. Like that bomb, legal and sanctioned by our United States Government, is the bomb of bottom trawlers, legal and sanctioned by the same Government. They are destroying the habitat of the Bering Sea and the Gulf of Alaska, and are protected by our laws to do so. We saw that. We witnessed their destructive fishing practices by diving into the underwater canyons by the Pribilof Islands. Just like being at ground zero on Amchitka, by Cannikin lake, we were at ground zero in the Pribilof and Zumchug Canyons.  They are almost totally devoid of life and history is repeating itself. It is happening in Alaska, on the most productive Oceans and Seas of the North Pacific.

We planted a cross there. We wanted, when doing this, and want to, express our desire that no longer is it acceptable to kill and destroy, no matter the form or manner. Once life is gone, as was evident on Amchitka, we cannot pray or will life back. We saw the future and we must not allow it to come, not in that form. So, now comes the marine cultural heritage zones. Perhaps these zones will be our cross, one which we are told to pick up and carry. Perhaps by establishing some protections for our foods to survive, we will not allow someone, five thousand miles away to say, “FIRE!” Perhaps we can learn from our history and put an end to building and enabling ways to destroy. Perhaps we can. But you must help by doing your part. You must join us in commemorating an awful time in our history, if for no other reason than to say, we will not participate.

We are pulling into Dutch Harbor/Unalaska for the fourth and last time during this whirlewind tour of the Bering Sea. And it is both an end and a beginning for me. We came to the Bering Sea to bear witness to the world, to ourselves, to what is happening not only to the beautiful ecosystem of water and fish and mammals and birds and plants, but as equally important, how change is impacting an ancient people. And what a vision we had, looking and listening.

And because of what we heard and saw, there is no doubt what so ever, even if there was any to begin with, that the establishment of the marine cultural heritage zones is the only moral, realistic and honest way to the survival of this incrediable gift to humanity all over the world. This gift to our people, to all peoples, is a gift given by our ancestors following centuries of daily sacrifices, learnings, insight and fortitude to pass on to their decendents a responsibility we must not take lightly. A responsibility to cherish life.

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