CHAPTER 1. NAUTICAL NATION: INDIGENOUS COMMERCIAL FISHING IN AN EASTERN ALEUT COMMUNITY 1.1 Introduction to the Aleut World A casual visitor to King Cove, Alaska, might at first consider it to be more of a commercial centre than a rural Aleut village. Massive boats, advanced electronics, cannery feuds and gear wars dominate the outward social and political dynamics. At closer examination, the reverse also presents itself with equal strength. On a calm evening, with fishing boats cruising in and out of the harbour and fishermen sharing their tenth cup of coffee playing cribbage in the Harbor House,1 the village seems to fit a quaint, romantic ideal. Fishing is the lifeblood of the village, the society, and perhaps it can be said, of a culture. This study traces the fisheries as they relate to the expression of individual and community relations and identity in the small Aleut (Unangan)2 fishing village of King Cove. The Eastern Aleut make a living in a single way: commercial fishing or in support of commercial fishing. Subsistence is a defining feature for many Alaskan Natives, however, for the Aleut, commercial fishing is not simply taken up in order to meet the minimum financial requirements for continued subsistence activities, and neither is it simply a ‘job.’ Contemporary Eastern Aleut identity is a product of their intimate relationship with the commercial fishing industry, particularly the salmon industry that so many rely upon. This century long (and arguably longer) engagement with commercialisation is a modern extension of their traditional fishing economies, a complex transformation of the ecological, political and economic, yet also relatively unremarkable in their own words, that this is simply what they do. Their self-definition as commercial fishermen in an area where the majority of Alaska Natives define themselves as subsistence societies has negatively affected how they are seen by others. The development and compatibility of commercial and subsistence patterns are not the dominant sources of concern for the Aleut, rather it is the continuation of these practices—the future—over which they express anxiety: “The fish are always going to be there. I hope we are too.” Identity has been a prevalent but nebulous focus in recent anthropological analyses (e.g. Barth 1969; Cohen 1993, 2000; Friedman 1992, 1994),3 and has been argued as being a valuable concept in studies of social and cultural change in the arctic (e.g. Anderson 2000; Nuttall 1992; Pullar 1992), but the concept itself requires further contemplation. What is identity and how do people make meaning 1 This is the common gathering space for fishermen, located by the harbour. I use the American English “Harbor House” because it is a place name, but the British English “harbour” for general discussion. 2 I use the ethnonym Aleut throughout the dissertation and not Unangan (plural meaning ‘the people who call themselves Seasiders’, Unangax = singular), which is gaining momentum as the preferred ethnonym in Aleut communities outside the Aleutians East Borough, because Aleut was the only reference people made to themselves. The only times that I heard Unangan is when I asked if they ever use it. 3 In titles of presentations for the 2002 annual meeting of the American Anthropological Association in New Orleans, “identity” appeared in 34 of them, second only to “globalisation,” featured in 39 titles. 1 through identity? What does it mean to be Aleut? What happens when the hallmarks of being Aleut are challenged? This research is an analytical engagement that moves between the nature of Eastern Aleut identity, my understanding of their identity, and local responses to social and economic change. In particular, I am concerned with what happens to men and women who are shut out of participating in the fisheries at their desired levels and, thus, the future prospects for the next generation of Aleuts. Seeking to define identity and status in Aleut terms, this study focuses on local constructions of identity that hinge on context, and the impact of changes to these contexts, through the lens of individual success and status. Using elements of personal success, status, gender differences, and societal values, I place these within their cultural contexts and consider the positive and negative circumstances surrounding relationships between social change, economic change, and social opportunities for individuals. In this context, I propose alternative explanations for identity development that include the important relationship between identity and status. The relative absence of publications and research on the Aleut is conspicuous, a condition that I feel contributes to many contemporary problems that Aleuts face; this dissertation itself is presented simultaneously as an ethnography of the Eastern Aleut and a study of the effects of culture change. This research also contributes to the anthropology of fishing in that the Aleut uniquely participate, share, hire relatives, and support their families in an industry where they dominate the local fleet. My objectives are to describe the relationship between subsistence and commercial economies from the individual, household, and fishing fleet levels; analyse perceptions of ‘indigenous commercial economies’; and give the Aleut a proper context in northern studies. This is a misunderstood part of the world and part of Alaska, where indigenous peoples are highly modernized and embedded in global processes and thus, this work also has an applied and policy-related function. The anthropology of fishing is a growing area of interest in the social sciences, tackling the “tragedy of the commons”4 (Acheson 1981; Gilbertsen 1993; Hardin 1968; McCay and Acheson 1987), fishing strategies (e.g. Durrenberger and Pálsson 1986; Gatewood 1983, 1984; Poggie and Pollnac 1988), applied aspects of fisheries management (Maurstad 2000; C. Smith 1981), urgent calls to save diminishing fish stocks and the societies that exploit them (McGoodwin 1990; Playfair 2003), and aquaculture5 (e.g. Lewis, Wood and Gregory 1996; Tango-Lowy and Robertson 2002). “Traditional ecological knowledge” (TEK) of localized or indigenous fishing peoples is a current focus for research on management systems (e.g. King 1997; McDaniel 1997), but often separates TEK from more scientific knowledge practices, or vice versa (Durrenberger and King 2000:10). 4 This “tragedy” posits fish as a common property resource that are overexploited by individual fishermen because there is no benefit for them to conserve in ways that privately owned resources might be protected (Hardin 1968). Durrenberger and King argue that fish are not common property resources in state societies, but state property that are heavily regulated and only accessible to certain constituents (2000:3-4). 5 The science and/or business of cultivating fish or shellfish under controlled conditions. 2 What is lacking from many of these studies, particularly in the North American context, is an analysis of the land and sea connection, the social organization intimately tied between them, economic implications, the effects of policy on resource claims, and the ramifications of change. Acheson’s (1981) call for “shore-based studies of fishing communities” has scarcely been heeded, notable exceptions include, but are not limited to, Pálsson’s Icelandic community studies (1988, 1991, 1993); Nadel-Klein’s (2003) study of Scottish fishing villages; Mishler and Mason’s (1996) “Alutiiq Vikings” study on kinship and community; and Taylor’s (1981) study of an Irish fishing community. The “tragedy of the commons” has been a debate about property and ownership, but these discussions often stop short of tackling what might be considered cultural claims to resources. In many coastal indigenous communities, their survival and ability to earn a living often depends upon the strength of the fisheries. The collapse of fisheries is a global trend that cannot be ignored; coastal communities, particularly indigenous, peripheral ones, are especially vulnerable in the face of marine ecosystem collapse, and have much to teach us about survival and integrity against global forces.6 In the Aleutians, villages are reliant on commercial exploitation of marine resources and have few prospects for economic diversification, placing the Aleut in a precarious position where changes in marine productivity, global markets, and state and federal management have both short- and long-term repercussions at sea and on land. Thus, this research is an attempt to understand the relationship between Aleut identity, society, economy, and the commercial fishing industry. It seeks to identify the connection between the negative impacts of changes in the commercial fishing industry on status, identity, social deviance, and social relationships in the context of a global sphere of changes that are being felt at the individual and community levels. In this context, the anthropology of fishing in King Cove, Alaska, is approached from a diverse set of theoretical perspectives using both qualitative and quantitative data. 1.1.1 The Eastern Aleut Inhabiting the lower Alaska Peninsula, Aleutian Islands, and the Pribilof Islands, the Aleut are fishermen, hunters, and trappers; but the overwhelming majority rely on the sea for a living as seiners, gillnetters, longliners, trawlers and pot fishermen.7 The Aleut draw upon an archaeological 6 The fishing crisis Aleuts face is one of many (McCloskey 1998; McGoodwin 1990), the collapse of the Atlantic cod fishery perhaps receiving the most publicity (Carey 1999; Chantraine 1993; Haedrich and Hamilton 2000; Kurlansky 1997). In the PBS Frontline series Empty Oceans, Empty Nets (2001), it was argued that there is “serial depletion” of marine resources and fish cannot reproduce quickly enough to keep up with current demands. There is intensified fishing pressure even though the global catch has decreased. Species caught today were barely considered edible a decade ago. Bycatch (the unintended or unwanted species caught in the context of other fishing, often commercially unusable or undesirable at the time) is argued to be the greatest concern with 20 million metric tons discarded worldwide (4 times the U.S.