Our project was on the front page of the Eureka Times Standard including interviews with HSU team members, project partners Lisa Wise Consulting, and a local commercial fisherman.
Dr. Richmond’s HD Lab Received a grant for $271,225 from the NOAA Saltonstall-Kennedy program to fund a project to develop Fishing Community Sustainability Plans for Eureka and Shelter Cove. For more information you can refer to the HSU press release.
In addition detailed information about the project over time will be kept on the project website: www.humboldtfishplan.com
The research team also received an additional $50,000 from the CSU Agricultural Research Institute to add a mariculture component to the Eureka planning process.
Fishing Community Sustainability Plans (CSPs) are a way for fishermen to have a direct impact on the future of their port and their industry. CSP planning is a process that involves working with stakeholders in fishing and waterfront activities to assess community needs and develop a list of recommendations to take to improve the sustainability of their ports. A key focus of the plan will be the commercial fishing industry but the process incorporates a wide range of waterfront interests including: commercial fishing, charter and recreational fishing, mariculture, fish buyers/processors, marina services, support industries, tourism, and local government. A CSP is a strategic document that will help the fishing community identify, communicate, and attain their goals for a stronger and more resilient future.
If fishing communities want to be prosperous in the future they need to start planning today. The CSP process will help create community awareness while also providing a strategic roadmap which builds on current successes and prepares for future changes. Similar planning efforts in Morro Bay and Monterey have led to real benefits including increased fishing opportunities, infrastructure upgrades, and increased community cohesion.
Post by EMP 510 Guest Bloggers Rodolfo Curiel and Kagat Mcquillen
“The American Indian Oral History Manual” draws several barriers that may arise when attempting to gather oral histories through interviews with Native Americans. Complexities arise as Native American understandings of narrative and memory do not facilitate the transfer of ‘data’ through the interview as a methodology. Just as Hugh Brody learns for himself the differing understandings of spatiality between himself and the Natives of British Columbia in “Maps and Dreams”, oral histories and other forms of traditional knowledge is concerned not only with the individual but the tribe and their ancestors. Memory and narrative together create a strong communal identity which dictates if, when and how some stories or knowledge is shared because the ownership of memory belongs to the community of ancestors.
The community benefits from the oral traditions as a means of transferring memories, personalities, and stories. Indigenous people who know cultural traditions or stories are valuable sources of history. Their brains function as historical archives, from the perspective of a local. Their first-hand experiences are stored, ready to be transferred to other community members or potentially to researchers. The history in brain archives are subject to disruption by outside sources. When a culture experiences a shock, such as abrupt land use accessibility change, oral histories fall by the way side, as the culture makes a shift. Furthermore, oral history is subject to falsities through time, space, and individuals. When memory becomes clouded and mixed, so do the dates, places, and faces associated with those memories.
The cultures that depend on oral traditions have developed strategies to accurately recollect information. Cultural memories are instilled in creation stories or other myths so that ancient or foreign information seems more relevant. Rules for telling stories or acting in oral tradition telling, become the indigenous style of knowledge transfer.
Post by EMP 510 Guest Bloggers: Teddy Masters, Lucy Cultura, Rodilei Silva Morais
The featured article in KQED News, “Dungeness Crab Season Stays Closed” by Adia White, discusses the impacts of this year’s closure of California’s Dungeness crab season – as a result of toxic contamination – on the livelihoods of crab fishermen and consumer confidence. Concerns over domoic acid, a neurotoxin linked to seizures and death in humans, has motivated the state’s Fish and Wildlife Department to shutdown the crab season for over three months.
Fishermen invested in the Dungeness crab industry have faced large-scale losses to their seasonal revenues, forcing many to diversify their income. Some have had to rely on other less lucrative fisheries while others have had to find work unrelated to fisheries, ranging from Christmas tree farming to construction. The industry itself is worth approximately $60 million with the lion’s share of those profits accrued between the months of November and January. Because of this, the three month closure of the crab fishery has severely crippled the industry, prompting calls for federal relief funding to support those impacted.
Implications of the contamination and subsequent shutdown have extended to consumers. A reduction in the number of local fishermen as a result of the shutdown may lead to a proliferation in Dungeness crab imports to meet consumer demands. Such imports run the risk of being less fresh and caught less sustainably than their local counterparts. Further, perceptions of toxic contamination are likely to reduce consumer confidence in buying Dungeness crab products, at least for the near future.
This article draws on the interview as a method to unpack the human dimensions of the toxic contamination of California’s Dungeness and the shutdown of its fishing season. While interviewing is not directly referenced in text within the article itself, it is unlikely that the author would be able to elaborate on the struggles of crab fishermen or the effects of toxic contamination on consumer confidence and the crab industry without such a method.
Guest post by EMP 510 bloggers Natalia Cardoso, Micheal Masiner, and Nicola Walters
“What’s your story?” It’s a common question when wanting to know someone. Why is that? Scholars and researchers across many disciplines from Neuroscience to English have proposed that our identity, our sense of self, and reality is created and maintained as and by narrative. The process of conception, gestation, birth, aging and death, is an ongoing sensory experience. The information gathered along the way is organized into multiple narratives, stories, that tell us who, where, what, how and why we are. For most, one storyline dominates that becomes who we are. For others, the central storyline shifts continuously through life like a postmodern novel. Stories give us our sense of self, meaning, place and purpose. Stories tell us to vote Democrat or Republican, to stay put or move away from where we were raised—who to love and what to believe. Story is the medium within which we dwell. Jake Kosek titled his environmental history of Northern New Mexico Understories, foreshadowing from the cover that narrative is central to the style, structure, and substance of the book.
Last year I taught History and began every new class telling my high schoolers that there is no such thing as History. Rather, history is collection of competing narratives studied for the purpose of understanding our collective psychology. The stories that are told contain characters and meanings—relationships of power. Kosek’s style in Understories follows the basic narrative structure, first explained by Aristotle as pity, fear, and catharsis. The most important and effective literary device is sympathy. A storyteller first gives the reader or listener sympathy for the characters, then creates conflict or suffering, followed by resolution. We see this structure utilized beautifully in Understories with engaging sensual sentences. By doing this, Kosek brings the reader into the time and place, into the experienced realities of the communities of Northern New Mexico, and the story makes its way inside of us, carrying the argument, meaning and purpose with it. This strategy makes the book engaging and accessible to readers outside academia. It also makes an otherwise highly contested perspective difficult to resist sympathizing with. Environmentalist readers, often unsympathetic to any human land use, leave this book changed and with a deeper and more nuanced understanding of community landuse and the relationships they contain.
Part of understanding Kosek’s focus on the Hispano communities of Northern New Mexico lies in the awareness of the unwavering link between land and culture. The drama of the jagged mesas, the majesty of the Sangre de Cristo mountains during sunset, and the unwavering juniper trees that decorate the chromatic desert terrain tell the story of diverse and resilient people. The entanglement of land and culture is central to the history of New Mexico, as well as the future. For La Jicarita, a nonprofit newspaper based in Northern New Mexico, the legacy of the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo and the emergence of the National Forest Service is fresh in the minds of the local communities and contributes to their everyday politics. In their article, Peñasco Votes “No” on Proposal to Expand Pecos Wilderness, the author describes the community of Peñasco, situated outside of Carson
National Forest where Kosek orients his book. As Peñasco works to address threats to agricultural lands, the community is also working to maintain space for the culture of their people. The article describes the viewpoint of the community: “There are no shades of gray in the land grant perception that any expansion of the wilderness constitutes a further taking of the land grant commons, a commons that was stolen by the dominant culture and now lies largely in the hands of the United States Forest Service.” Thus, community debate and discussion ropes in the narrative of colonialism, the separation between people and land, and the culture that is at stake.
By utilizing an ethnographic research method, Kosek enables the use of first person narrative and brings the reader into these histories. Ethnography further gains the trust of the reader, increasing the credibility and impact of the work. The title of Kosek’s work, Understories, alludes to the voices often unheard and oppressed by the dominant narrative. It creates a foundation for the postcolonial effort of unearthing the untold stories of the subaltern, which is essential knowledge for community action today.
The featured article in Orion Magazine, “Out of the Wild” by William Cronon, is presented in the form of a conversion between himself and Michael Pollan. While this conversation touches on a multitude of topics surrounding nature, ecology, and our relationship with the natural world; the theme throughout the conversation is the importance of environmental history and storytelling.
Environmental history “renders connections visible” through the role nature plays, not only in our day-to-day lives but, the ways in which it has been altered over time to create the world we experience today. As Pollan states “history is inescapable” because it is embedded in every part of the human experience. In this conversation they use the example of Point Reyes National Park, California. When visiting Point Reyes it seems to be a wild place with beautiful ridgeline forests, but it has a history that “blurs the lines between wild and cultivated” because the recent past shows evidence of human cultivation in the old agricultural lands, and therefore it is not a truly “wild” place. But does knowing this history take away from the beauty of the place? I would agree with Cronon in saying ‘no’. Cronon goes on to make some excellent points about environmental history and the way places such as Point Reyes force us to realize how interconnected we are as humans to the nature that we tend to think is completely separate from us.
The Point Reyes example is just one of many stories of how humans have altered nature over time and the way knowing the history can change the perception of what we are seeing. The centrality of stories and the environmental history of our lands are the underlying themes through which Cronon and Pollan are able to have a compelling conversation on interesting topics related to the human-nature relationship.
Post by guest bloggers: Akira Brathwaite, Julie Groff and Shohei Morita
The infamous “Great Pacific Garbage Patch” is estimated to spread over 5.8 million square miles, affecting many oceanic organisms. If we could “hoover up” near half of this plastic soup– should we?
According to a recent post by The Guardian, such an endeavor is becoming more and more likely. In fact, cleanup may start as early as 2020. The world’s largest proposed oceanic cleanup operation, The Oceanic Cleanup Project would construct an elbow of vulcanised rubber and attach it to the sea bed. Composed of an array of floating barriers, this elbow would passively catch plastics deposited by oceanic currents and funnel them to its center for collection and retrieval. The idea is that most of the current will pass underneath the screens, carrying away “neutrally-buoyant” sea life.
Anna Cummin’s 2011 article would have us believe that such a cleanup project is but a “fanciful notion… analogous to sieving the Sahara desert for cigarette butts, or vacuuming America’s highways for bubblegum wrappers.” While neither is impossible, they are rather impractical. Furthermore, her organization, The 5 Gyres Institute, has found no direct link between the pace of land plastic use and increased accumulation in the gyres. So the question must be asked: Will the Ocean Cleanup Project make an impact? If so, what will be the cost?
The technology developed by the Ocean Cleanup Project is still in the testing stage. It is not fully proven to be successful at removing plastics from the ocean, and may even cause further harm to marine life. The barrier sits on the surface of the ocean and is therefore not expected to harm the majority of sea life. However, plankton live primarily on the ocean’s surface and are the nutritional foundation of marine ecosystems. As surface waters flow under and past the barrier, plankton may be caught.
Another limitation to the barrier’s effectiveness is its inability to collect microplastics smaller than 5mm. Even the smallest particles are extremely harmful. Uncollected microplastics can be ingested by marine life, or break down under the sun’s UV rays, releasing harmful chemicals into the food chain. This growth of toxins negatively affects fisheries industries. Toxins that are absorbed by plankton are ingested by fish and are eventually consumed by humans.
With a problem this big, governments and the industries producing the products that eventually become waste should be involved and take responsibility. While supported by the UN, this project is actually funded by the private sector and crowdfunding. In fact, this project will be partially financed through the selling of collected plastics to large companies for use as recycled clothing. It’s doubtful that using technology like the barriers will solve the larger problem of worldwide consumption. To truly reduce plastics in the ocean, a shift in the purchasing habits of consumers is needed. We need to move away from non-renewable materials, the plastics industry, and capitalism.
Despite the uncertainty, the Ocean Cleanup Project is seen by many as the beginning of future innovation and increased success in cleaning the world’s oceans. And honestly, it is a good start. As long as future studies incorporate plankton testing to assess the potential bycatch, this project could make a significant impact on ocean ecosystems. However, research into ways to target microplastics, and a shift away from plastic use, is also necessary to truly correct the problem. In the meantime, the Ocean Cleanup Project will be doing what they can to make a positive contribution to managing ocean pollution.
A Blog Post by guest bloggers Michelle Dowling, Chibu Okezie, and Dalton Hedin from EMP 462: Coastal and Marine Planning
High Country News and Investigate-West collaborated on an article titled “Fishing reform drives inequality in Alaska”. This article provides a local fisherman’s perspective of how the Alaska Individual Fishing Quota Halibut and Sablefish Program has negatively impacted the economy of tribes in Kake, Alaska.
The author interviews Henrich Kadake, the mayor of Kake and a board member of the tribal corporation. He has lived in Kake most of his life and has seen how reform has caused economic inequality to grow over the years. Fishing had historically been the main source of work in the area. Prior to the program implementation, the area was known for its chaotic and unsustainable halibut fishing seasons.
In 1995 the National Marine Fisheries Service created the catch-share program to award a permanent allotment of halibut fishing rights, based on historic catches, to a limited number of boat owners. Because of this, fishermen with quota allotments were then able to fish for longer seasons. This provided more flexibility to go out in safer weather and deliver fresh fish regularly rather than annually. Each quota-holder is allowed a certain percentage of the total catch. Each year the feds re-assess the halibut population and determine what that total catch should be.
The quota program was intended as an incentive to keep fish populations healthy and to advance conservation and economic goals. Yet as a result the local fishing economy has experienced a severe decline. Over the last five years, the village’s population has dropped by half, to 500, as people leave to seek work elsewhere. However, another coastal town, Petersburg, lies just fifty miles southeast. In contrast, Petersburg, is a predominantly white, wealthy, fishing community who has continued to prosper since the reform.
The economic hardships of Kake were a result of several variables including rural isolation, harsh winters, a lack of cash flow, poor fishing infrastructure, and a dramatic spike in fuel prices. All of this prompted many locals to sell their quota to fishermen in other towns, such as Petersburg, in order to pay for basic necessities such as heat and food. When the program began, forty-two Kake fishermen owned halibut and sablefish quota. As of 2012 only nine did. Kake’s share of the catch dropped from 277,256 pounds of halibut to 64,053 pounds. The community is currently advocating for a $40 million federal project that would help to build better roads for improved access to other towns, and a local hydroelectric power plant that could provide affordable, local, power.
This case study is an example of how there is a complicated marriage linking fisheries and economics. It is important to take into account systemic disproportionate economic advantages, access, and opportunities between stakeholders when planning policy and programs in order to minimize any negative unintended consequences.