The third part of my diary from the 90-day trip onboard a longline fishing vessel in Chile is a summary of the last two weeks and also a more personal point of view of life at sea. In general, a fishing trip of three to four, or on occasion five, months at sea is extremely exhausting; not only physically but also, and much more so I believe, mentally.
Personally, when we hit day 72 on the high seas my enthusiasm started to fall. It’s amazing how the isolation of being 400-500 miles from land, the enclosure, the monotony and frequent bad weather was so tiresome.
The vessel was relatively comfortable and large compared to others I’ve been on, but after a couple of weeks the spaces and distractions are all exactly the same. The bad weather, waves over six metres high and winds over 60 knots affected everyone the same mentally. Perhaps only the most dogged of seafarers withstood the passing of time onboard.
Even so, some circumstances will overcome any man. We received news from land that one of the crewmen’s fathers had passed away. There was no way of him getting back to attend the funeral, as we were well over three days sail from the nearest port. This kind of situation really makes you appreciate human fragility in every sense, not only confronting the force of nature but also the harsh facts of life.
That said, these events bring out the most human characteristics in us; companionship and camaraderie. Such things flourish between even the most weather-beaten under these circumstances. It is here that I find myself thinking of the beauty of the open ocean, the birds, whales, dolphins and fish amongst the thousand other souls afore the backdrop of her intense colours, dreamy sunsets and clouds that melt into the sea.
All this beauty that I have lived during the voyage contrasts with the exhaustion, the dangerous work onboard, the accidents, distance from loved ones, the horrendous weather, the difficulty of sharing a confined space and the feeling of bearing witness to so much death – sharks, tuna, swordfish and albatross. It is all, absolutely everything, intense, it is multiplied a thousand-fold and it makes me think and reaffirm that nothing in the world is good or evil, it just is.
Each of us give it the connotation that we feel convenient, the most precious of human gifts – that capacity to decide. You decide to be part of something or not; you decide to be part of the problem or the solution; you decide to fight for something remain indifferent. I decided to work for the conservation. I decided not to judge the industry for their work, which is an incredible sacrifice, and often badly paid.
In the end I made the decision to get involved rather than worry and complain about the state of the world. I decided to work day after day to save the albatross ‘with’ the crew and the fishing companies instead of ‘without’ them. I am absolutely aware that this is not an easy task, that in a couple of years it is not only necessary to mitigate but also to educate, to be consistent and not lose the hope that this can all change, maybe not immediately but with time.
I arrive in port, I am content to have achieved the research objectives and use of the mitigation measures but I am exhausted and desperately need to rest. The albatrosses and petrels in the central north of Chile will have to wait. My colleagues will keep things moving, I must rest, but I am decided! I will return with more energy and together we will keep working to save the albatross!