From the Dock to the Deck: My First Trip to Dutch Harbor

 

Dutch Harbor, Alaska. Are you familiar with it? Do you know what goes on there, or why it's held the title of the #1 fishing port in the United States based on landings for years?

If you're like I was - new to the commercial fishing world or unfamiliar in general - you probably don't know much about Dutch, let alone where it is. I recently had the privilege of traveling to this remote island outpost for work. All in hopes of familiarizing and getting acquainted with the mecca and home to the Alaska pollock industry.

Now, writing this after the fact, I can say with certainty that Dutch - between its people, its beauty, and its economic weight - made a lasting impression.

Dutch Harbor is a fishing and port town on the island of Unalaska, part of Alaska's Aleutian chain. In the summer, the place is striking - thick with wildflowers, surrounded by lush green mountains, and alive with wildlife that most people in the Lower 48 could only dream of seeing.

Overland Drive is a great spot to get an incredible view of Summer’s Bay.

When you land at Tom Madsen Airport - a short strip of tarmac tucked between mountains and sea - you're hit with how far away you are from "normal" life. You're also struck by how busy this place is, given its remote location. Fishing vessels crowd the harbor. Vacant cargo containers sit - waiting to be packed. Eagles circle overhead. And everywhere you look, there are mountains and water.

As we drove the half mile from the airport toward the island's lone accommodation - the Grand Aleutian Hotel - you immediately noticed one species in particular. Bald eagles. Far and wide. Perched on streetlights, rooftops, and especially near the processing plants – waiting patiently for precious fish scraps. I've never seen so many in one place, nor seen them so at ease around people. These birds were tanks - well-fed, dominant, and totally at home. Sea Otters were plentiful, playful, and unbothered. Salmon danced through the shallows. The natural world here isn't just surviving - it's thriving.

I have never seen so many Bald Eagles in one place. And the size of them...they obviously enjoy Alaska Pollock as much as the rest of us!

But let's get to the fishing. That's why I came.

Dutch Harbor - a town of roughly 4,300 year-round residents - is home to the Alaskan pollock commercial fleet. This fishery isn't just big. It's the largest in the U.S. and the largest sustainably managed fishery in the world. This year alone, Alaska pollock harvesters have a catch quota of 1.374 million metric tons. Mind-blowing.

From walking the docks to touring processing plants, Dutch was eye-opening.

Getting to see the inner workings of one of the many shoreside processing plants in Dutch Harbor was fascinating. The technology, manpower, and preciseness that goes into processing the catch is extensive.

"We process multiple species in our plant," said a processing plant manager who gave me a thorough tour of their facility. "But it's pollock that keeps us running."

The most impactful part of the trip was going to sea aboard the F/V Alaskan Defender.

We trekked more than 280 nautical miles northwest - more than 24 hours from town - to reach the fishing grounds in the Eastern Bering Sea. The open ocean is no joke. Luckily, during this journey, Mother Nature and the high seas were happy.

You can see the beautiful sunrise in the distance and the flat, calm Bering Sea. The crew was hauling in the second load of the trip here around 4:30 a.m.

"Flat, calm, and foggy is good," said Captain Dave, a nod to the weather we experienced on this journey

The crew of the Alaskan Defender - Captain Dave, First Mate Erick, and deckhands Brady, Kevin, Scott, and Walt - were calm, professional, and proud of what they do. They worked with methodical precision, knew the science, and ran a tight ship - plus, they could cook. Really well. No one on that boat was going hungry anytime soon.

As someone brand new to this side of the world, I wasn't sure what I'd find. What I saw was an operation run by a crew who care about each other, about the fish, and about doing things the right way.

Commercial fishing gets a lot of scrutiny, and sometimes rightly so. But what's happening in the Alaska pollock fishery is different. It's measured. Regulated. Transparent. And the care the crews take is real.

This was one of last of three hauls during my trip. As you can see, the catch is overwhelmingly Alaska Pollock.

"This is by far the cleanest fishery I have been a part of," said one of the deckhands on the Alaskan Defender.

And that comes with some weight as this individual has fished in the majority of commercial fisheries in Alaska, from Cod to Crab to long-lining to seining.

I observed as nearly 1.2 million pounds of Alaska pollock came aboard during my trip - and saw firsthand how much of the haul was the targeted species. Bycatch is never the goal, and when it inevitably does occur, no one is more frustrated than the crew.

This is a full haul for the Alaskan Defender – roughly 440,000 pounds of Alaska Pollock in this net. It was truly incredible to see this process take place in person.

"We haul in multiple catches every day, and it never ceases to amaze me that the majority of the time, our catch is completely clean (meaning little to no incidental catch)," said a deck hand on F/V Defender.

Commercial fishing is hard work. Grueling schedules. Irregular and inconsistent hours. Harsh seas. Months away from home. But the crews out here do it season after season because it matters - to them, to their families. It's their livelihood.

Dutch Harbor is more than a pin on a map. It's a working engine in one of the world's most important - and sustainable - food systems. It's a town that runs on Alaska pollock.

I went to Dutch to learn. What I came away with was admiration. Gratitude. Because now, I've seen it for myself.

That’s a wrap from Dutch. I was blown away by the scale of the operation and most importantly the pride and care of all who are part of this fishery exhibit towards the resource. Until next time, Dutch.