FisherPoets in Astoria Tell Tales of the Deep

Three days of story-telling and singing

Alaskan fishermen—and in greater numbers, women—may move to rainy, stormy Oregon to winter. Like Army veterans, their stories are of boredom interrupted by death-defying events, whether from the weather, the catch, or the madness of life on the boat.

We landlubbers are fascinated by a current culture so different from our day-to-day lives bent over a computer. We do not find maggots in our bait or need to duck when the boom comes around, nor move our bottom cheeks over the side of the boat when stricken.

I was engaged by the increasing number of women who toil on the boats. A young woman told of struggling to haul in 50-pound halibut. It took 700 miles by the ocean to get to the fishing grounds in the Bering Sea. She also told of long, hard days, learning the courage to persevere, and vowing never to fish again. Then she related getting a large check at the end of the summer for her share. She shed tears when the crew parted.

The captains spoke of how hard it was to recruit hands these days—that the most prized quality was grit, the determination to learn, see the task through, and work hard. Greenhorns spoke of driving to Alaska and hanging around the docks. They asked the fishing boat captains who were hiring. They were willing to learn on the job, the only way to gain experience and test themselves for courage.

The grizzled captains of the boomer generation talked about 16-hour work days as if they were for slackards, that they fished until the hulls were full when the fish were running. The commercial fishing boats they own ply North America’s waters for salmon, tuna, halibut, lobster, and crabs.

In their downtime they write poetry, doggerel that makes listeners laugh, and laments that make people cry. The sea chanties are ancient and new, with a rhythm to match the task—hauling anchor, baiting chum. I sat in a large circle, tapping my foot to the beat as various people called out chanties and we sang the chorus while a soloist sang the verses, all twenty (or maybe edited for content for the audience). I suspect the language of the chanties matches the language of the boats navigating a treacherous ocean.

The Astoria Bar, the great sand bar where silt drops out from the Columbia River before it empties into the Pacific, is one of the most treacherous stretches of the world’s water and is known as the graveyard of the Pacific. Astoria pilots must board each ocean-going vessel to help it navigate past the mouth. Pilot boats nestle aside ocean-going vessels, and then the pilots climb ladders on moving ocean ships to board.

The huge volume of water from the Columbia meets the ocean amidst the rocky and sometimes mountainous Pacific Northwest. Surrounding landforms are known as Cape Disappointment, Deception Bay, and Deadman’s Cove—not exactly welcoming names.

Add fog, swells, current, tide, wind, and rain, and Astoria is a perfect place to host a FisherPoets event. The ocean-going cargo ships are lined up like monstrous ducklings to get to the river ports. Visitors can watch from the comfort of a fish and chips restaurant on the river.

I love the Astoria Maritime Museum, with its exhibits on various vessels and stories of life in Astoria. At the turn of the 19th to 20th century, Astoria was built on wharves and docks, lined with salmon canneries. My family tells the story of my grandfather meeting his brother on the streets of Astoria, Scandinavian sailors. Astoria had various ethnic enclaves, and Scandinavians who knew timber-cutting and fishing were welcomed.

Meanwhile, the Astoria FisherPoets event is a victim of its success. This year, attendance buttons sold out and it was standing room only at many venues. The New York Times ran a story on the event some years back. Covid is over and done and people are flocking to live festivals again.

The book Astoria tells the story of John Jacob Astor’s Pacific Fur Company and the settling of the Pacific Northwest. I love the book and enjoyed visiting Astoria’s many old buildings and museums, lively waterfront, and hippie vibe.

The founding of Astoria had a role in the borders that became the United States. Russia, England, Spain, France, and the United States nosed around the coast. Astoria’s founding preceded some of that late exploration and allowed the first established town on the Pacific Northwest coast to claim primacy for the United States.

Of course, what long has been thought settled boundaries may be up for negotiation again.