Distant Water: The Fate of the North Atlantic Fisherman

by William W. Warner

Chronicles the history of the North Atlantic Fishing Fleet since World War II, narrates the day-to-day occupations of shipboard life, and examines the fleet's current operations and future prospects

Genres: Nonfiction, History

338 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1983

Reviews

[Cape Fisherman · Rating 4 out of 5]

William Warner investigates the birth of factory trawlers on the open ocean. As a conservationist I find factory trawlers abhorent, but Warner presents the backstory to the rise of these monsterous fishing machines. Post Magnuson Act the US Government provided low interest loans to fishermen and subsidized the creation of factory fishing. In a few short years all nations learned that the ocean, once thought to be inexhustable, had a finest resource. Anyone interested in understanding the complex issues facing fishery management should read this book.

[Kenno82 · Rating 3 out of 5]

I think the author sums it up best when he states, "If, then, the reader has found this work within the tolerable bounds of general interest, join me in thanking him [the editor]". Sometimes Warner walks a fine line. The more technical chapters relating to purse seiner fishing are jargon filled and difficult to read. However, his experience fishing on a soviet factory ship is very interesting.

[David Traver Adolphus · Rating 5 out of 5]

Warner is well known for [Pulitzer-winning] Beautiful Swimmers, so I'm not sure why Distant Water is so overlooked, because it was decades ahead of its time and is just as keenly observed.

Between 1977 and 1979, William Warner traveled with distant-water commercial fishing vessels from West Germany, Spain, the United Kingdom and the Soviet Union in an effort to document a way of life he felt was almost unknown to the general public. For Beautiful Swimmers, on crabbing in the Chesapeake Bay, he had:

"Gone out in what were in many cases the smallest of all commercial fishing vessels.... The factory trawlers...were at the other end of the scale, the ultimate fishing machines. The gap was a large one--electronic instead of artisanal fishing, the storm track of the North Atlantic...and, above all, fisherman who measure their trips in months and years rather than hours and days."

The North Atlantic fishery was a shock for Warner. Not just in scale, but that "what [he] was witnessing, it was immediately apparent, was a unique way of maritime life. Equally apparent was the possibility that this way of life might soon disappear." It was to be sooner than he thought. The brief reign of the distant-water factory trawlers on which he journeyed was about to come to a close.

The age of the modern trawler began in 1954 with the launch of the British Fairtry (later known as Fairtry I), the first factory-equipped distant-water stern trawler to enter service. That is, it incorporated in its 280' length and 2600 gross tons complete automated facilities for processing (filleting) and freezing fish (cod), adapted from land to maritime use and fitted to a vessel of unprecedented size and sophistication (she was known by her crew as the "Queen Mary," and mistaken at sea for an ocean liner). So successful was Fairtry that from the time of her construction to that of the last of the factory ships of her type in 1978, no major changes were made in either basic design or layout of the belowdecks factory facilities.

Fairtry's success was owed to her conception as a completely integrated vessel. In order to bring aboard the quantities of fish sufficient to justify her tremendous processing capacity, she was designed as a "stern trawler." Where all previous distant-water fishing vessels were side-trawlers that lifted their nets over the side and dipped out the fish until the nets were empty (except for contemporary whalers, which inspired Fairtry's ramp design), Fairtry incorporated a sloping stern ramp which allowed enormous catches (upwards of 60 tons in a single "haulback") to be brought aboard in all weathers. These factors, combined with the development of improved pelagic (mid-water, or swimming) nets, meant the new generation of boats could record catches undreamt of by their predecessors.

It is this revolution and its unforeseen consequences that Warner explores in great detail. Over the course of his two years in the North Atlantic, he lived and worked for months at a time aboard the German Wesermünde; the Spanish trawler Terra of the Terra/Nova pai; the UK's Kelt; and Soviet Seliger. Warner found the crews of these vessels to be reaping the legacy of two decades of high-efficiency exploitation of what had been thought to be inexhaustible stocks of codstuffs (cod, haddock, pollock and redfish), herring, hake, groundfish (flounder and halibut) and capelin in the form of ever-diminishing returns and unpredictable catches of decreasing quality and size.

While it was not what he originally intended to write about, Warner witnessed the definitive end of the age of the factory-equipped distant-water stern trawler (known generally as factory trawlers). As catches declined from historic highs in the 1960s, it became uneconomic to fish with gargantuan factory trawlers, which cost at least $5000 a day to operate. The breaking point was reached around 1978 when a combination of factors led owners of many ships to stop fishing. Warner is actually at sea on the Kelt when this happens--the crew returns to its home port of Hull in June of 1978 to find berths available on only one outgoing ship, and much of the Hull fleet idled at the docks, a far cry from the situation when they embarked only a few months before.

This abrupt decline in viability is the result of a centuries-long trend in North Atlantic fisheries. Distant-water fishing, that is, fishing in non-coastal waters, primarily the continental shelves (i.e., Grand Banks, Georges Banks, et c.) has been documented since the early 15th century, when the Portuguese fleet provided most of Europe's protein in the form of salted cod ("bacalau") caught as far away as the coast of Newfoundland. European fleets have always depended on North Atlantic fish, primarily cod, and have followed them to ever richer grounds, from coastal waters to the Faeroe Islands to Iceland and ultimately to the great sweep of the continental shelf, reaching from the Nantucket Shoals off of Cape Cod to Newfoundland, Greenland, Iceland, Svalbard and north of Russia to Cape Kanin. These waters constituted the richest fishing ground in the world until about 1978.

The primary target of this fishery has always been Cod. Its suitability for salting and later freezing is unmatched, and it is one of the few fish to find acceptance in both European and American markets (salt cod was for centuries the primary source of protein in Europe, and the Great Seal of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts is a cod). Warner says that historically "[Cod] have represented about 40% of all fish taken from the sea [by weight]. From 1970 to [1980]...the cod family catch has averaged about 11,000,000 tons."

However, by the mid-1970s this catch was declining, or at least offering reduced per-ship, if not total yields. As a result, efforts turned to developing less profitable but more common species, such as the capelin, with disastrous results.

The capelin is a small (about 16cm) pelagic (mid-water) fish, meaning it inhabits middle layers of ocean (as opposed to surface or bottom layers) in great schools, making it vulnerable to the pelagic nets then in use for cod. Unlike the cod, it spawns in very shallow coastal waters--beaches--throughout Nova Scotia, Labrador and Newfoundland. It is also a primary prey species for a complex inshore and deepwater biota. Alas, this was not apparent until capelin stocks crashed throughout the North Atlantic in 1978-1979.

Warner's fundamental supposition while aboard ship is that depletion of commercial stocks is due to simple overfishing:

"In a relentless search for more fish, [captains] pushed northeast to East Greenland, previously neglected because of very foul grounds and notorious weather, or north to the Labrador, where many followed the West Germans in the practice of ice fishing in winter. Southward, they pursued migrating cod and herring well below Georges Bank, to the offings of Cape Hatteras."

It is not until later, when he reviews the catch reports of the previous decades that he decides something else may be amiss. Warner is on board the Seliger in early 1978 when the expected spring run of capelin does not arrive. He observes that:

"Unknown to us, a major alteration was taking place in the ecology of the North Atlantic. A decade of what management experts had so ardently espoused as harvesting the secondary trophic level--taking smaller bait fish, that is, rather than their immediate predators--was suddenly showing a sad result. The little capelin that drew cod inshore and provided the lifeblood for Newfoundland's small-boat fisherman could nowhere be found, inshore or offshore."

The success of the capelin, and its relationship to the success of codstuffs was complex and not entirely understood. Their populations depend on innumerable factors, each of which is to a greater or lesser degree dependant upon the others. It appeared that by greatly reducing the breeding stock of capelin through dramatic increases in catch size, it would limit the total number of possible fry in succeeding years, but that might not be true. In later years, capelin stocks in particular were shown to recover with surprising speed when undisturbed, as potential predators were also greatly reduced and greater fecundity among the remaining population resulted.

Among the most significant, least predictable and least-well understood factors in the overall behavior of the North Atlantic fish populations is the behavior of the Atlantic Ocean itself.

The productive fishing grounds described are the result of two main factors: benthic contours of the appropriate shape, and interaction of cold Arctic currents with the warm waters of the Gulf Stream. Neither of these had changed appreciably within the six centuries of major commercial fishing there, but it was becoming apparent that there are significant local variations from year to year, and larger regional variations on the scale of decades. Water that was once warm may become cool, dead areas rich, without either warning or discernable explanation. Later, still aboard the Seliger, Warner describes entering such a local variation:

"Later that night the Seliger crossed to the western side of the Tail [of the Grand Bank, c. 50 W ° 40°N] on a solitary scouting expedition. The next morning it was as though we had entered another ocean. As the fog rolled away, bits of sargassum weed could be seen floating in the troughs of azure-colored seas. Incredibly, Portuguese men-of-war drifted close by....Fulmars, who have a notable preference for boreal waters, were suddenly nowhere to be seen....

On the bridge the water-temperature thermometer registered an unbelievable 16° centigrade (61° Fahrenheit), up from 8° (46° Fahrenheit) the day before.... A deviant eddy of Gulf Stream water, known to scientists as a "warm-core ring," was paying us a visit. (Such rings may be likened to the whirling eddies left in the wake of a canoe by a strong paddle stroke; for reasons not yet fully understood, the Gulf Stream generated similar eddies, which have both the size and strength to travel long distances.)...Up in the net came extraordinary quantities of mollusks--mussels, clams, moon snails, and small whelks--similar to what one might typically find on a New England beach. But, incredibly, at our exact position on the southwestern tip of the Tail, the coast of New England lay over 1200 miles away."

The warm-core ring, thought to be a transient phenomena lasting a matter of days, at most, had been in place for a matter of years in this isolated locality. Similar to Jupiter's Great Red Spot, the Gulf Stream forms stable eddies, whorls and other features in addition to shorter-lived artifacts which may endure for years.

Unbeknownst to him, Warner was experiencing the turbulent, chaotic nature of even established deep-water currents of the sort that support the entire North Atlantic fisheries biota. The invertebrates brought up that day on the Flemish Cap are just one manifestation of the little-known patterns comprising the ever-more complicated seeming Gulf Stream.

It is this complex web of factors and interactions that makes the long-term prediction of the effect of the addition of man's actions difficult, or perhaps impossible, to predict. As with terrestrial climate it is impossible to say with any certainty what is causing a change. Is the decline of the fisheries a direct result of overfishing? If so, overfishing of what species? Is it part of a larger cycle, and if so, what is the nature of that cycle? What elements of the equation can be disturbed and allow it to behave predictably? It is conceivable that taking catches 1% of the size historically taken would have been enough to perturb the system, or perhaps that what did happen in some way averted an even worse scenario. It is merely hubris to assume that our actions have in some way changed what we assume is a millennia-old pattern, but alas, equally hubristic to assume that our actions will not have a consequence.

Ultimately, William Warner was hopeful about the future of the North Atlantic fishery. Within just two or three years of the establishment of significant quota for catches, populations rebounded markedly. However, in the light of the 40-plus years since Distant Water was published, we have rather less reason to be as hopeful. We have no reason to expect that anything we might or might not do will cause fish populations to do what we want them to do. We can only hope that through careful stewardship and monitoring that we can avoid doing further harm.

[Schuyler Wallace · Rating 4 out of 5]

The iconic belief in the romance of the sea is highly overrated. There is nothing vaguely tender about making a living in the dangerous and harsh world of frigid and swirling water while searching for ever-diminishing schools of fish, earth’s favorite food. William Warner has written “Distant Water,” in which he describes this environment and the fate of the North Atlantic fisherman. This is an older book; written some forty years ago, and somewhat out dated. Although it takes place towards the end of a productive era of wild fisheries (once considered to be never ending), much has since occurred that has reduced these regions of plenty to mostly empty larders.

Warner has long been obsessed with the sea and its occupants, and, in preparation for the writing of this account, managed to cajole his way on board the fishing ships of five nations--not an easy task. Typically, fishermen and their overseers are not welcoming to outsiders, citing superstition, fear of spying, and the giving up of information that would threaten their livelihood. It took a long time for them to accept Warner into their fraternity.

To take advantage of the prosperous period for supplying fish to the world, numerous countries devised ways to dredge up fish of all types with large ships that towed nets with mouths as large as football fields, hauling in tons of fish every day and directing the squirming mass to fish factories within their hulls that processed and froze the fish for onshore marketing conglomerates. These ships, some over 300 feet in length, were home to hundreds of workers, placing them in a hostile environment for as long as six months before setting them on land again. There were, at one time, hundreds of such ships prowling the fisheries of the world. Only a few remain today.

Warner lived and worked with the crews, capturing their stories, their gripes, their hopes, and their acceptance of the dangers that surrounded them. The human body is not made to withstand the thundering seas, the constant icy weather, the grinding gears, swinging steel, the unforgiving crush of heavy machinery, and the laborious work of handling tons of spiky and raspy-bodied fish. Spellbinding stories of serious injury, death, and being lost at sea are conveyed to the author in placid tones that seem to blithely accept such mishaps.

When the author wrote about the nearly one billion tons of world sea catch during the 1960s and 70s he wondered whether or not the world’s oceans could sustain this huge assault on usable fish. His fears, of course, are now being realized.

I was amazed at Warner’s observation of the people he met. He found “generosity, warmth, and a sense of community” in his contacts during his visits. His dedication to research and having all the facts before he writes, along with a natural rapport with the hardy people he met, make this an essential book in the study of a fascinating aspect to human life. “Beautiful, elegant, provocative, and revelatory” are just some of the words used by critics to describe his work.

[David · Rating 3 out of 5]

Warner takes a turn on five high seas fishing trawlers from as many countries, from offshore New England to the Barents Sea. He's writing at a time (1970s-1980s) when many seacoast nations were establishing 200-mile economic zones, significantly curtailing the waters that these ships could fish—an oceanic enclosure of the commons (p. 320). Large fleets of so-called factory trawlers, that could process and freeze their catch while on the ocean, were in decline.

Warner touches on the microeconomics of getting fish into the hold, explaining why some underutilized species (like the deep-dwelling macrourins) aren't worth the effort to fish (p. 304). A trawler captain, to operate efficiently, seeks to minimize bycatch and to collect fish from a single species, of uniform dimensions. Warner's stint at the sorting table (p. 82) is instructive.

A long stay on the Soviet trawler Seliger is a nuanced and fair account of life under Russian communism.

The book would benefit from a few more diagrams. The explanation of hauling in the nets from a pair of Spanish trawlers left me confused.

Something to think about the next time I tear open a box of frozen fillets.

[Caley Brennan · Rating 4 out of 5]

An engaging and informative memoir detailing the author’s time aboard the fishing trawlers of various nationalities in the North Atlantic during the 70’s as well as a prescient overview of trawler fishing in the region and its implications for fish stocks.