Women on the Water
Women and non-binary fishers along the northwest coast are working toward a future of safety and resilience at sea.
The Bellingham shipyard on a cloudy day. // Henry Hagan
Story by Madeline Sweet
Updated on 3/22/2023
This article has been edited post-publication for accuracy and clarity. For more information, contact The Planet Team at planet@wwu.edu
March 10, 2023
TW: Sexual Harassment
The Bellingham waterfront is an integral part of the local culture and economy. During summer days the cold saltwater provides a refreshing refuge from the heat. On the boardwalk, families stuff raw chicken in wire traps in an effort to catch crab. Divers climb into wetsuits to explore life underwater. Sailboats drift like rubber ducks in a giant bathtub.
The Port of Bellingham Commercial fishing industry accumulates over 320 million dollars in revenue per year, providing 2,816 jobs in 2013. However, the workforce is aging out, with the average fisher age between 45 and 54. Only 24% of the workers in farming, forestry and fishing occupations are women.
Gender discrimination and sexual violence exclude women from joining the effort to preserve fish and fisheries.
Gender has been left out of much of the historical data available on the maritime industry in Alaska. Recent studies show fisheries today are male dominated. Rebekah Paci-Green, Associate Professor at Western Washington University, began their fishing journey in a boatyard of roughly 50 men at 13 years old.
On their first day, Paci-Green had to walk through hallways plastered with sexually explicit posters. There was only one bathroom for the entire boatyard, and Paci-Green remembers cleaning the bathroom so she could sit on the toilet.
“I wasn't even a woman, I was a girl,” Paci-Green said. “The first year I went was a huge culture shock.”
Access to the restroom gets more exclusive at sea. Most men pee off of the side of the boat but for many female bodies that is not an option. Paci-Green avoided using the bathroom for as long as they could. Eventually, they were forced to go in a bucket in full view of nearby boats while the crew moved to the other side of the boat.
“It was not set up for girls to be there,” Paci-Green said.
Chelsea Keutmann, a fourth generation fisher, experienced sexism first-hand long before she started her own operation in 2007. Memories of being threatened with physical violence complicate her love for her craft. It took time, energy and experience to reject the negative perceptions male fishers perpetuated. Over the years, Kuetman was able to show herself and others that women belong on the water. She is now the co-owner of Sea to Shore Seafood Co.
One year, Kuetmann worked tirelessly alongside a crew of all men to prepare their boat for the season. When it came time to set sail, she was told, “women are not supposed to be on a boat,” and was left at dockside.
A crab pot stacked in the parking lot of the Bellingham shipyard. // Henry Hagan
“I don't want to say it's accepted, but you get targeted,” Keutmann said. “You are an easy target for people to threaten your safety because they look at you like less than, or you don't belong.”
When Keutmann became a captain, she was told she would fail and didn’t have what it took. Some of the men and their wives did not want women on the water. She had to work triple-time to prove she deserved to be there.
Keutmann began fine-tuning her crew’s fishing strategies and at one fishery, they were deemed “top boat.” She was 22 at the time.
Despite these hardships, Keutmann loves the work. She fondly remembers getting up in the morning surrounded by icebergs and the sounds of whales right next to the boat.
“It's just such a freeing experience and it's like you can't stand to be out there, but then when you're home and you can't stand to really be home,” Keutmann said. “There's this sense of the ocean is always part of you, no matter where you are.”
Paci-Green shares this sentiment of longing for the ocean even with the challenging work environment.
“I was seasick the entire time and I loved it,” Paci-Green said. “There's something powerful about being part of that process.”
Between 2000 and 2014, there were 179 fatalities in Alaskan fisheries. Paci-Green described their family’s boat as a tippy tin can greased with fish slime. They didn’t install handrails until after her sister lost a kidney from a bad fall. Once it had been done, it improved the working conditions for everyone.
“Making the fisheries a more gender inclusive space is beneficial for everyone. It'll bring important perspectives that bring a better, safer system for everyone,” Paci-Green said.
Expectations of masculinity often reward dangerous behavior. Inclusive safety could defend against the devaluing of safety for men and benefit everyone.
Since Keutman began fishing, she has seen more young women enter the fishing industry. Things are changing with more women becoming involved and feeling like they have a voice.
Keutman has a few recommendations for women and non-binary people interested in fishing commercially. She advises newcomers to seek safe workplaces and talk to the communities around them before committing to a job.
“When you're out there, you are all alone. You need to make sure that you are putting yourself in an environment that is safe,” Keutman said.
The Strength of the Tides is one resource for women interested in the industry. This organization pledges to support women and non-binary people on the water.
A fish being lifted out of a bucket of ice at the Lummi Tribe’s booth at the Bellingham Fish market. // Henry Hagan
Ellie Kinley started working for their father on a fishing boat 36 years ago. Today, they sit on the board for the Working Waterfront Coalition, and is serving their third term on the Lummi Natural Resources and Fish Commission.
“I wouldn't trade [fishing] for the world,” Kinley said. “I wouldn't have done anything different.”
When Kinley first began fishing, they spent entire summers on the water. Now, Kinley is lucky if their crew is able to go out for a week because of declining fish populations.
The Lummi Nation is working to restore fish levels to what they were in the 1980s. Kinley mainly fishes in the Fraser River stocks in the U.S. Wild salmon populations face a reduction of more than 50% per generation on average because of salmon farming, according to a 2008 study.
Fish farms carry diseases that get passed to wild salmon. According to Kinley, juveniles will have to pass by, go under or go through about 400 fish farms before hitting the ocean.
“There was one area where they were able to get them moved,” Kinley said. “Within two years those pink salmon came back in that area.”
Fishers are key stakeholders in the shift towards sustainability. Keutmann advocates for direct market fishing, where the fisher can negotiate a higher price with individual buyers rather than large companies. This way, fishers can make more money on less supply.
Direct market fishing propels awareness between consumers and fishers. Keutmann teaches people about the diversity of sea life, encouraging customers to try different things. This prevents overfishing on a single species.
Catherine (Cat) Jefferson, a fisher from the Lummi Tribe holding a purple sea urchin. At their booth at the Bellingham Fish market. // Henry Hagan
Catherine Jefferson, a 22 year old Lummi Nation member, works at the Lummi Fish Market selling seafood at the Dockside Market in Bellingham. She started fishing with her dad off and on a few years ago.
“Our traditions and culture and way of life out on the water is really important,” said Jefferson, “I think that it is actually really beautiful to think about the journey that those fish or seafood go through to get to our tables and bring us those gifts.”
For Kinley, fishing is an integral part of their culture and life. The islands and the village sites among them are their home.
“The only reason I do the work that I do besides fishing is because I have great grandchildren and I need to know that one day they will be on the deck of that boat too,” Kinley said. “They need to have the opportunity to do that because it fulfills you. It makes us who we are. I mean we refer to ourselves as the salmon people, and so who are we without salmon.”
Madeline Sweet is a third year at Western studying environmental science.
Henry Hagan is a freshman going into the marine and costal science major. He is also a club officer for the photography club here at Western.