Team Vosso

In a land far away (from Seattle), an amazing team of fish-loving fellows is working hard to bring back the greatest Atlantic salmon of them all: the Vosso. There are a few girls, too, several of them named Kristin.

Some of them put on dry suits and snorkel the rivers of Western Norway to gather data on spawning stock abundance. They track the migration route of young salmon to the ocean and monitor the timing of smoltification (the process a young fish goes through to transition from fresh to salt water). Some of them capture plankton from the shore and from the decks of ships tossed by the waves in a search for the elusive free-swimming sea louse.

They publish papers on best practices for salmonid restoration, including creation of new gravel beds and the best time to plant eggs and release salmon fry for run enhancement. They study spawning behavior and the effect of water quality, hydroelectric water regulation and sea lice on stock survival.

Locals living along the migration route of the Vosso salmon are also part of the team. Using knowledge and skills earned from their experience as fishermen before the Vosso salmon run collapsed, they use fishing nets to monitor salmon returns in the summer and fall. They offer their boats and their time for smolt tows and plankton sampling.

The passion and dedication of this group is infectious! It has been a privilege to return as part of the team this spring.

(Scroll all the way to the bottom of this page to see a photo gallery)

7 Mountain Tour

Today I learned the word for mud in Norwegian: gjørme!

A few other words that I heard people using to describe the situation we found ourselves in: galskap (insanity) and gjørmebade (mud bath).

I hiked for almost 12 hours, covered 35 kilometers and climbed 7 mountains ranging from 350 to 640 meters above sea level. Part of the reason it rains so much in Bergen is that, no matter which way the clouds are blown by the wind, they are pushed up a mountain. Today I became a real Bergenser by standing on top of all of them in one day. Along with 5000 other Norwegians, hence the mud.

Insanity? Probably yes. But I’d say it’s a good kind of insanity. As we slipped and sloshed down the face of Mount Ulriken, one Norwegian lady commented to another, “I think the fact that we are doing this reveals something about us…”

...

On the way down from each of the mountains we passed through neighborhoods where friendly Bergen residents left their hoses running for 7-fjell tur participants to refill water bottles. Many also capitalized on the captive, hungry audience by setting up stands to sell cake and coffee and waffles. I had a delicious waffle with strawberry jam and rømme (a cream not quite as sour as sour cream in the US).

As described in the previous blog post, there has been a lot of rain this May in Bergen. Today we were lucky and for the first portion of the hike the rain held off, the sun shone, and the views were spectacular. Around 5pm the wind began to howl and the rain let loose.

When I began to get tired and think about quitting, I noticed the 8-year-olds keeping pace or passing me, and the gray-haired couples plodding along, and realized that there was no choice. A true Bergenser I would be!

Now the sweetness of sleep, despite the anticipation of soreness. No bicycling to work for me tomorrow…

Rainy May, and the fate of the Bergen Umbrella

The weather really hasn’t been that bad while I’ve been in Bergen. Although it has rained a bit here and there, most of my bike rides to and from the city have actually been precipitation free! (I admit this was due to good timing.) And the temperature hasn’t gone below 50 degrees very many times...

I’d be quite content with the momentary sunbreaks (of which there have been many, and oh what a beautiful city!), except that everyone keeps raving about the weeks of amazing weather that ended the day I arrived. Starting around Easter it was sunny and 70. Snow quickly melted from hiking trails, people sunbathed and thought summer had come. Oh well, at least I’m used to the rain!

The weather forecast for the 17^th of May – Norway’s Constitution Day – was once again for rain showers. People dressed in their bunads and fine clothing anyway and flooded (ha!) the city center for the parade. Gray skies menaced, but rain held off as the parade made its way along the waterfront. Then suddenly, as the fateful drops began to fall, they popped up one after the other... The crowded streets became a sea of umbrellas.

I wonder what percentage of the umbrellas produced in the world are sold in Bergen?

During the year I lived in Norway I was amazed by the quantity and intensity of the rainfall. It rains 80 inches per year on average in Bergen, compared to only 40 inches per year in Seattle and 60 in Juneau. I admired the children in rubber boots and onesie rainsuits and the fashionable practicality of women in long sleek raincoats.

After winds and often horizontal rains, I started to notice abandoned umbrellas scattered about the city, carcasses in a surreal sunny calm after the storm. During most of these encounters I was camera-less, but I was able to capture a few images. Until now I’ve never had a chance to share them with the world. I now present them to you, and hope the 17th of May umbrellas meet a better fate…

---------

I’ll write soon about fisheries fieldwork in the fjords and visits with friends and Øye and Sandvik relatives.

Hiking and biking in Northern Germany

When we lived together in Norway they must have gotten the impression that I like outdoor sports, ‘cause for the week that I was going to be in Germany, Johannes and Harmut planned an overnight backpacking trip and a 3-day cycling tour to the North Sea…

… We slept very well.

If I could characterize the week in 3 words, in addition to hiking and cycling I’d have to say napping. I napped on top of both the Brocken and the Ottofelsen in the Harz National Park. I napped on the train, I napped at lunch breaks, I napped waiting for bridges to close so we could continue cycling, and all three of us fell into a deep slumber by the shore of the North Sea. I’ve never really figured out how to cat-nap before, but this week I’ve fallen into dreams instantly. It helped that it was sunny pretty much the whole time.

If I had a few more words to describe the week, I’d say butterkuchen and beer. We compared butterkuchen (butter cake) and other pastries from village to village. Johannes and Hartmut made sure I sampled a decent selection of German pilsners and hefeweizens. Beers taste so good after a long day of hiking or cycling, and... maybe that’s the secret to good naps, too?

Give me a few more words and I’d also say yellow fields of rapeseed lit by the sun, wind turbines, canals, thatched roof houses, centuries-old cathedrals, city gates and brick and cobblestone streets. The sound of frogs and cuckoo birds. And sheep. Lots of sheep.

People bicycle a lot in Germany – people of all ages – and the bicycle infrastructure is inspiring. There are bicycle signs at most intersections in addition to signs directing cars, and always a bike path along the road or through the countryside. In the city there are both pedestrian and bicycle walk signals and a special section of the sidewalk designated for bikes. Seattle is doing its best, and I appreciate the efforts, but I definitely have some bicycle culture envy.

Thank you to Johannes for masterminding this action-packed week, and to his friends and relatives for hosting us along the way. We stayed with cousin Sarah in Berlin where we explored art-houses and saw the remains of the Berlin wall. His grandmother fed us amazing homemade rhubarb-kuchen when we stayed with her in Braunsweig the night before our hiking trip. There were many great conversations with Johannes’ flatmates in Bremen, Shiva and Stephan, who also cooked delicious food for us and made sure we had a glass of wine. Cousin Sandra in Nordenheim made moussaka and laughed with us until we could resist our sleeping bags no longer.

Thank you!

Farming on the banks of an inland bay

Last week found me in Bowdoinham, Maine, a little town on the Cathance River. Sarah and Pete are gearing up for this season of vegetable farming, with a greenhouse brimming with starts. I came to volunteer for the week of repotting, transplanting and prepping beds.

I’ve known Sarah since we were 3 years old. We grew up on the same street in a small town in Southeast Alaska, both from fishing families of Scandinavian heritage. We’ve been side-kicks and partners in crime, and her adventures have inspired many of my own. Small Wonder Organics is her latest adventure, motivated by her deep commitment to living lighting on the earth and the belief that all people should have access to healthy, organic food.

Sarah and Pete met at a natural foods coop in Honolulu, HI. After they got married, their shared interest in growing their own food led them to an apprenticeship on an organic farm in British Columbia followed by a search for a place to settle and give the farming life a try. They chose well when they decided where they should begin their organic farm. Much of Maine’s soil is rocky and nutrient-poor, but their land borders Merrymeeting Bay, where 2 major rivers - the Androscoggin and Kennebec – and four smaller rivers converge, depositing nutrient-rich silt into a shallow ‘freshwater tidal bay’.

The ‘bay’ lies 17 miles inland, but the tide still manages to push all the way up through the lower Kennebec River estuary. The tide backs up the flow of the 6 rivers, resulting in an average tide of 5 ft. in Merrymeeting Bay. The narrow opening between the bay and the lower Kennebec, a 100 ft. deep boiling swirling 250-yard cut called ‘The Chops’, allows only a small amount of salt water to enter, preserving the freshwater characteristics of the bay. This allows local farmers to draw water directly from the bay to water their crops, although in some cases the pumps only work at high tide!

Sarah and Pete are not the only young farmers who have been attracted to Bowdoinham. At least 4 other young families are farming plots of land in the immediate area. In this rural agricultural region there is a vibrant community of passionate colleagues and friends committed to a way of life and way of production. They gather socially, share resources and ideas, and provide each other with friendly competition.

It was a cold spring, so Sarah and Pete had only just begun to transplant starts into the ground from the greenhouse while I was visiting. Sunday morning, as I was preparing to leave Maine, you could feel the excitement in the air and see a spring in Pete’s step, because the weather was warm and sunny the time had finally come to harrow the fields. As Sarah put it, the race was about to start… Good luck you guys!

- - -

The past two days I’ve been in New York city visiting my college roommate Vicki and her fiancee, John, as well as several other friends and relatives. Yesterday Nina and Vicki took me on a walking tour through Chinatown and across the Brooklyn Bridge. And this evening I fly to Europe!

- - -

And I leave you with a joke submission from Bonnie Loshbaugh!

Sven & Ole had been doing some construction work and ended up with a big pile of stuff to take to the dump. Sven pulled over to the side and said, “Ole, get back there and make sure things don’t fly out.” Obediently, Ole climbed in the back and lay down spread eagled, holding on to as much as he could, and they continued to the dump. One the way, they passed under a bridge, where two Swedes were walking by. They looked down at the truck, and one said to the other, “Look at that! Someone’s throwing out a perfectly good Norwegian!”

Wah wah…. Norway here I come! (Although as I found out, Norwegian jokes like this don’t actually exist in Norway…)

How I finally met the man who saved my life!

I’ve just had one of the biggest weeks of my life. I turned 30, submitted my masters thesis, moved out of my house and traded an amazing Phinney Ridge view for the vagabond life. And to top it all off, on Saturday I finally met the man who saved my life!

It’s fitting to start my travels in Boston – to come ‘home’ to a place from my past. I visited friends in Cambridge and met my undergraduate thesis advisor, Ted Macdonald, for coffee. I wanted to say thank you Ted, once again for your guidance 9 years ago, and for writing those recommendations that got me the Fulbright and accepted to grad school. I hope I’ve done you proud!

My godmother, Brita, picked me up and whisked me away to Newton, MA, which was my home away from home during college. I’ve spent the Easter weekend with Brita, Gary and Tali eating amazing food (including matzo brei, roast lamb and apple pie), hiking in the Blue Hills, and catching up on the details of our lives.

Saturday I took a side-trip to Vermont to visit a Norway Fulbright friend on his farm. Matthew Hoffman spent most of his 20s learning how to be a farmer, and then decided to go back to school for his Ph.D. He studies common property regimes, community development and land use. What he does is called natural resource sociology. After he finished his masters he took a few years off to remodel the farmhouse on his family’s land, and while he worked on his Ph.D. he built an exquisite barn using timber he’d cleared from the property. He took me on a walk through the pastures, forest and his grove of sugar maples, following the tracks of a wild turkey until they disappeared into flight.

My hope for Matthew is that he can find an amazing and satisfying teaching job close enough to home that he can stay on his farm and fill the barn with animals once more!

- - -

Once, during my year in Norway, Matthew and I were sitting at a bar with several other Fulbrighters, and the conversation turned to bears. Most people have a bear story, and we all love telling them. Having grown up in Southeast Alaska, I’ve got a few. There’s the one about the morning I woke up to the sound of the bear dragging my kayak down the beach, and the endless problems of bears rifling through garbage cans. But I told my favorite: the one about the time Tom Bodett saved my mother and me (in utero) from a bear attack! She was running outside of Petersburg, the town where I grew up, when a black bear began loping directly toward her across the muskeg. She stopped and screamed, but luckily a pick-up truck rounded the bend. Tom, a local carpenter, was at the wheel. He saw the scene unfolding and hit the gas, arriving just in time to drive between the bear and my mom, deflecting the charge. Breathless, she clambered into the cab…

“Have you ever heard of Tom Bodett?” I asked the crowd? “You know, the voice of Motel 6? ‘I’ll leave the light on for ya.’ I think he also appears regularly on Wait Wait… Don’t Tell me! Yup, he saved my life!”

Matthew looked at me funny. “Tom Bodett?”

“Yeah… have you heard of him?”

“Uh, Tom Bodett is my next door neighbor in Vermont. He’s looking after my farm for me right now…”

“What?!!”

You see, Tom had moved away from Petersburg in 1982. He'd spent some time in Homer, AK where he'd gotten his first big break in the radio scene, and eventually he'd moved East to pursue that career. I had never met him, and didn't think I ever would!

Matthew and I wrote a letter to Tom Bodett, in which I was finally able to express my gratitude. “Thank you, Tom,” I wrote, “for saving my life. Without you, I wouldn’t be in Norway studying wild salmon restoration!”

But still I had never been able to thank him in person. On Saturday Matthew and I stopped to knock on Tom’s door. I expected him to be off somewhere recording a radio show, but we caught him at home. He was delighted to meet me. He says he tells the story often! And now, 30 years later, the story goes on!

- - -

This trip is about integrating pieces of my life, about celebration and reflection, and about re-connection. And just pure and simple vacation, too!

After Boston I’m heading to Maine to spend a week with Sarah and Pete helping out on their farm (http://www.smallwonderorganics.com/). Then I’ll dip into big city life in New York before flying to Europe. I’ll be returning to Bergen, Norway for 1 month where I’ll live with my third cousin, Marta Kristin, and do some work for my employer and friend from my Fulbright year, Bjorn Barlaup. I’ll also visit friends in Germany and Spain before heading home to Seattle at the end of June.

I figure this old blog about my Fulbright year in Norway can be expanded to include the present adventures of this Norwegian-American girl! Stay tuned!

Report from Eirik on the 2008 summer of research fishing:

Norsk:
Laksesesongen i år vart prega av mykje oppdrettslaks. 2/3 av laksen var oppdrett. Til saman fekk eg 86 oppdrett og 43 villaks.Dei fleste av laksane fekk eg på Skolmen, men ein del vart og teke i kilenota. Helge Furnes fekk vel cirka 30 laksar. Dette var lite villaks som kom tilbake, sjølv om talet er det høgaste eg har fått nokon gong. På grunn av at innsatsen var stor vart talet høgare enn før, men eg trur nok likevel at det kom att meir laks i år enn i fjor då eg berre fekk 18 villaks. i 2006 trur eg eg fekk ca 40, året før vel 20, så hadde eg vel 40 i 2004 og 41 i 2003. 2003 var det året eg sat på gilja sist.

English:
We caught mostly escaped farmed salmon this year - 2/3 of the salmon were farmed. In total I caught 86 farmed and 43 wild salmon. Most of the salmon were caught at Skolmen, but a few of them were caught in the kilenot. Helge Furnes also caught around 30 salmon. This is a very low return of wild salmon, even thought the numbers are the highest I have ever caught. The reason for the higher numbers is that the effort was higher this year than before, but I think even so that more salmon returned this year than last year when I only caught 18 wild salmon. In 2006 I think I caught about 40, and the year before about 20. In 2004 it was 40, and 41 in 2003, the last time that I fished from the gilje.

In Other News:

A documentary about the Vosso salmon restoration project came out in November, 2008 on NRK, the Norwegian public television station, which featured Helge Furnes and Eirik and includes amazing footage of Bolstad fjord and the farm where Helge lives. http://www1.nrk.no/nett-tv/klipp/432343

The report on the Vosso salmon restoration project, "Nå eller aldri for Vossolaksen" (Now or Never for the Vosso Salmon) was also published in November, 2008, including a chapter that I wrote about the cultural importance of the Vosso salmon. It can be accessed here:
http://www.dirnat.no/content.ap?thisId=500037788&language=0

Final week fishing in Stamnes

I was fortunate to spend my final week in Norway with good friends in Stamnes. In addition to spending time with great people in a beautiful place, my hope was to participate in some sitjenot fishing (a traditional set-net gear utilizing a fishing tower and a pulley system that closes the net after fish swim in). Because I left Norway in late June I knew I wouldn’t see the peak of the fishing season, but my timing was great in that I got to help set out the sitjenot! It was a great opportunity to document the process in photographs.

Johannes Gullbrå was instructor, and Eirik Normann was his flink (quick-learning) pupil. Eirik is a local young man who, through his interest, ensures that knowledge of the sitjenot will not go extinct when the older generation is gone. He uses the traditional sitjenot for research fishing, capturing salmon heading up stream and determining whether they are wild salmon or escaped farmed salmon. If they are wild it is possible to find out whether they were produced at the Voss Hatchery if they have a metal snout-mark or if their adipose fin is clipped. As of August 11^th, Eirik had caught 22 wild salmon, including 7 with clipped adipose fins from the hatchery, and 40 farmed salmon. At the end of this data will be added to previous 6 years of experimental data that is teaching us more about survival threats for the Vosso salmon. This experiment can help us remove or minimize obstacles to restoration of the Vosso salmon.

Rune Gullbrå and Knut Helge Kulshammar came to visit us out at the gilje (the fishing tower from which fishermen watch the net). It has been many years since these guys ‘sat’ since the fishery was closed in 1992. It is clear that there is a lot of nostalgia around the fishery, and it was hilarious and a great privilege to hang out with them in the gilje while they recounted fishing tales – the glory moments when it was horrible weather and impossible to see, but for some reason they knew something was happening and there were 15 salmon in the net. Stories of the old timers, the names carved into the wooden walls marking who sat together each year – Rune and Knut Helge had definitely sat together a few times. By the end of a few seasons these people knew each other almost like brothers.

I was staying with one of the Stamnes fishermen named Hallstein Leiren. He suggested that we invite everyone to a barbecue in honor the Vosso salmon and my departure from Norway. Our plan was to have the party out on a little island owned by Ola Kvamme, but the weather turned very sour. We aborted the island plan and strung up a large tarp over Hallstein’s backyard. 20 people came with food and smiles, including people from Voss and Bolstad up the river. People enjoyed exchanging fishing stories. I was touched when the folks from Voss Hatchery presented me with a gift – a painting of a waterfall near Voss – and thanked me for my efforts on behalf of the Vosso salmon and their communities.

I was also able to thank all of these people for welcoming me into their community so warmly – for one of the most incredible experiences of my life.

Fishing in Tanafjord

Many people told me that a year studying wild salmon in Norway would not be complete without a trip to the north of Norway to see the productive salmon runs of the Tana and Alta fjords.  Although there is some limited commercial fishing for salmon with fixed nets all along the coast of Norway, the larger salmon runs in the far north have continued to support the longest fishing seasons in the country.  The area is also beloved by sportsfishermen for large and plentiful salmon.

When I was in Tromso in March I met several fisheries scholars, and one of them was able to put me in touch with with a native Sami salmon fisherman from the Tanafjord.  I called Jan Larsen and asked him whether I could come 'help' him fish for a week or so.  He was not a man of many words, but he indicated that I could come.  So on June 6th I flew from Bergen to Kirkenes, far to the north near the Russian and Finnish borders.  

The Tana River crosses the border into Finland, and management of this salmon run is thus more complex than in other Norwegian rivers.  In recent years the Norwegian government has begun to reduce fishing time in the Tana system due to declines in salmon runs.  Despite conservation concerns, these reductions are met with significant resistance from the predominantly Sea-Sami population, who see salmon fishing as one of the important pillars of their local culture and economy.

Jan Larsen and his brother, Trygve, have both fished for salmon since they were young, in addition to other fisheries.  Trygve also fishes 'rogn-kjeks', a species of lumpsucker fish that is plump with caviar.  Their home is in Vestre Tana, but from Monday at 6 pm to Friday at 6pm - the period when salmon fishing is allowed - they travel out to their cabin on the fjord near their fishing sites.  They use both krokgarns and kilenots to fish, two different kinds of set-nets.  A krokgarn is a gillnet that is set up in two hooks, with a 'leading net' diverting fish into the gillnet area.  A kilenot is a hanging fish-trap of sorts.  A fish that swims in to a kilenot through a series of openings will not be able to find its way out again.

The week before I came to Tanafjord Jan caught 14 Atlantic salmon.  He had higher hopes for the week I was there, thinking that we might be able to catch up to 100 fish.  However, we ended up with only 9 for the entire week.  For a while they blamed having a woman around for the poor catch, but then I reminded them that we caught 150,000 pounds of sockeye last year in Bristol Bay when I was on board, so they couldn't blame me ;)

Despite our poor catch that week, it was an amazing experience to get to know Jan and Trygve and the rest of their family, to grill wild Atlantic salmon over an open fire in the heart of one of Norway's wildest fjord-systems, and to see real salmon fishing in action in Norway.  I was also able to take side-trips up into the mountains into the territory on the Mountain-Sami people, and during my last two days in Finnmark I caught a ride up the cape to Mehamn, one of the northernmost communities in the world.  I stayed with one of Jan's relatives up there and watched the midnight sun set over the northern ocean.

Sailing with Arne in Sogn og Fjordane

In early May I got a phone call from Arne Vassenden, a nice fellow I had met at a meeting in Voss in December. He had mentioned that he knew some salmon fishermen in the Sogn og Fjordane region (north of the Bergen area), but I never took him up on his offer to set up meetings because I ended up focusing my research closer to Bergen. However, when Arne called he wondered whether I would be interested in taking a sailing trip with him to some of the outer islands outside Sognefjord in June to meet a few fishermen and see some of the most beautiful coastal area in Norway. It's not often someone calls and offers you exactly what you've been dreaming about!

On June 3rd I took the Hurtigbåt (fast boat) from Bergen to Krakhella, then took a bus to Hardbakke to meet Arne and his boat. The boat is a 100-year old wooden rowboat with a viking-style sail and place for max 6 oars. A beautiful craft. For the next three days we would sail west and then north, using wind when we had it and rowing when we didn't. Amazingly the ocean was flat calm and the sky cloud-free during the entire voyage. This led to sunburn and frequent swimming.

Although we did not have midnight sun the light lingered through the night, and it was sometimes hard to remember to go to bed. Sunset faded into sunrise, and I woke up to some of the most breathtaking views I have ever seen. On the second night we camped on top of Alden, a prominent landmark for fishermen in the region because of its relative height. From Alden we could see far in all directions, including a view over Bulandet and Vaerlandet, our destination for the third and final day.

Arne was right - this area of the Norwegian coast is very special. There are no roads out to these intricate, exposed islands. Vaerlandet is known as the 'Venice of Norway' because it is made up of so many tightly spaced small islands with bridges running here and there between them. I can imagine that a bike tour to Vaerlandet would be an amazing vacation, although the fun of sailing through the tiny waterways would be hard to beat. Once we thought the mast would not clear a one-lane cement bridge, but we managed to tilt the boat hard as we rowed slowly under and we snuk through.

One of the most amazing things about Norway is the effectiveness of public transportation connections to the city even from so far out in the middle of nowhere. On the morning of the 4th day I took the early bus from the outer edge of the islands to a ferry that connected to the Hurtigbåt back in Krakhella and returned me to Bergen a few hours later.

Thank you, Arne!

Ole goes to the doctor...

Lena had been pestering Ole to go to the doctor and get a check up for a long time, and finally when Ole was feeling "not so good" he went in to find out what was wrong. It didn't take the doctor long to find that Ole was full of cancer and had no more than a couple of weeks to live. Well, the diagnosis made Ole feel even worse, and he went home to spend his last days. He was in the upstairs bedroom on his deathbed a week later, and feeling worse than ever, when he noticed the most wonderful smell wafting up the stairs. Lena was making lefse down in the kitchen! It smelled so good to Ole that he dragged himself out of bed, down the stairs, and across the kitchen. He was reaching up for a piece of lefse when Lena rapped him on the knuckles and scolded, "That's not for you Ole! It's for the funeral!"

(This joke submission from Keith Anderson. Thanks!)

Ole and Lena stranded on an uninhabited island...

Ole and Lena were the only survivors from a steamboat sinking in the South Seas. They separately made their way to un uninhabited island. Ole was pretty shy, so he didn't talk much with Lena. But one day, after a few months, Lena could stand the loneliness not longer. She cornered Ole and said, suggestively, "Ole, you got what I want, and I got what you want." Ole thought for a moment and his face suddenly brightened. "Lena, you got snoose!!!????"

(Thanks to Don McManman for the joke submission!)

Spring

After one of the most rainy experiences of my life (Fall and Winter in Bergen), it has been like a persistent dream in April and May with several week long stretches of sunshine and temperatures up in the mid teens! I don’t know if this craze has hit in the U.S., but here the one-time-use grill is a popular item, and when the sun came people and one-time-use grills began to fill every possible inch of green space in Bergen overnight. The first few days they were piled high next to the garbage cans, but then the city got wise and set out one-time-use grill receptacles in strategic locations.

I am aware that my time here is growing short. And even though I’m nearing deadlines with work, I appreciate being here every day. As I bike home out the peninsula I take in the 360 views – Bryggen, Rosencrantz Fortress to the east, the Hurtigruten, sailboats, Verftet to the west. Water and mountains in all directions. Colorful houses woven along cobblestone streets and steeply up the hillsides amidst new-leafed trees. This is a gorgeous city, worthy of the devotion of its locals despite the rainy times (which are of course also beautiful).

I’ve been lucky to able to share this place with several friends from home in recent weeks! Claire Eager came in late April and we had a great time, especially on our weekend trip to one of my field work sites. We were able to stay in an extra house owned by Ingebrigt, whose father recently moved to a retirement home down the hill. Ingebrigt is one of the crew from Stamnes who used to fish for salmon before the collapse of the Vosso stock. Now he has a real job in a nearby town, and he also keeps some animals. We visited right in the middle of lambing, and Claire and I watched 3 little lambs come into the world.

Last week Eliza Hudson was here! I had been saving the hike from Fløien to Ulriken to do while she was here, and we were lucky to have a beautiful sunny day. Sasha and Alexandra were with us too – Sasha and I took the opportunity to dunk in a partially ice-covered pond along the way to welcome spring. Life has gotten quite busy lately, but Eliza was a great guest and just came along for the ride – and a beautiful ride it was, including a lunch invitation to a farm perched on the steep fjordside. The farm is not connected to any road system, and it is amazing to think of all the work that Helge and Kjersti have done over the years, ferrying goods across the fjord on a suspended trolley. It was a taste of the older, pre-oil Norway – people of the generation that doesn’t speak English, rømmegrøt made from fresh cowsmilk, little lambs frolicking… again sunshine and perfect reflections on the fjord.

It’s hard to believe that I will be moving out of my lovely apartment in a few weeks and moving on to other adventures. But this spring in Bergen has been one to remember.

Happy 17. Mai!!

Travels Northward

For much of March and April I was on the road, visiting relatives and friends and talking to salmon fishermen and fisheries scholars in Trondheim and Tromsø. I thought it would be best to do the whole circuit at once, although packing becomes slightly more difficult when you need clothes both for visiting relatives in springy, sunny Ålesund and every single piece of winter clothing for Svalbard’s -30º C.

The first leg of my adventure was aboard the Hurtigruten, the coastal steamer that departs Bergen each evening and makes its way up the coast as far as Nordkapp. I felt a bit out of place with my large backpack and hiking boots amidst the elderly German and Norwegian cruise guests in their evening attire, sipping their wine in the lounge. The passage from Bergen to Ålesund was beautiful with calm seas and enough sunshine to sit on deck sunbathing. The trip from Ålesund to Trondheim several days later was quite the opposite, with huge seas and snowstorm.

I had a wonderful, although all too brief, visit with the Sandvik relatives in Sykkylven, a town just east of Ålesund known for its production of furniture – and for being the birth-place of the frozen pizza brand, ‘Grandiosa.’ (If you were a student in Norway you would know and love Grandiosa, believe me.) I heard stories about my grandpa Oscar from Olav and Malmfrid, and stories about other past visits of the Alaskan relatives. We ate fresh cod, including the roe and cakes made from the codliver – they sound horrible but are amazingly delicious. Oddmar and Terje and their buddy Henning took me on an amazing ski trip up into the hills to a view of the fjords surrounded by the Sunnmore Alps. I love skiing, although I must say I’m really confused about how Norwegians, or anyone for that matter, can use regular old traditional cross-country skis to go up and down steep mountains. I want metal edges, damnit!

In Trondheim I got to speak with landowners from the Gaula River about the importance of wild salmon to their region. There was a ski trip (with metal edges) arranged by my fellow Fulbrighter, Matthew. And of course there was Easter – there were many guests from Bergen visiting our friend Sonja. Margrit and Sonja colored Easter eggs and we had a good old fashioned Easter egg hunt around an old fortress up on the hill.

Svalbard. I didn’t see any polar bears, which is both a good thing and a bad thing I suppose. I missed the Northern Lights. I figured that close to the equinox would be the perfect time to visit, because I’d get half light and half dark. But 8 days after the equinox it was already 24 hours of daylight, if you count twilight. My friend Allison reported a few days ago that as of late April they’ve already got midnight sun up there at 78º N. There were snowscooter trips and crazy parties, and major preparations anytime we needed to go outside.

In Tromsø I stayed with Benny and Bård Berg, friends I met through the Norwegian Ladies Chorus last year in Seattle. Bård arranged many great meetings for me with people who know about Sami salmon fishing. I also got to meet many of the fisheries social scientists whose books I’ve been reading all year long.

The final stop of my journey found me in Harstad, close to the Vester and Lofoten Islands. Sandy is a family friend who traveled to Norway when she was 20 years old, fell in love with the farmer’s son, and has now lived in Norway for 30 years. Her husband Andreas and their Belgian farmhand, Hans, were busy in the barn with spring calving. I enjoyed drinking real milk – something that everyone who grows up on a dairy farm must find commonplace, but I found thrilling. Sandy and Andreas live in one of the most beautiful places on Earth, right next to the ocean with snowy mountains in view.

Whew… back in Bergen. And it’s Spring!!

Vosso River Salmon

This year is dedicated to learning about the status of wild salmon in Norway, what restoration efforts are underway to recover salmon runs that have declined, and researching how important recovery efforts are to the Norwegian people.

My project has two parts: to participate in restoration work, and to conduct social science fieldwork in an effort to qualitatively and quantitatively describe the importance of wild salmon to people – both the fishermen themselves and Norwegian people generally. My research is focused along the watershed of the Vosso River to the north of Bergen. The Vosso River historically produced some of the largest Atlantic salmon in the world, averaging 10.9 kilos, compared to an average of 9.8 kilos of salmon caught along the coast. Some of the fish made it up to above 30 kilos. (They were not quite as big as the biggest King Salmon, but very close…)

There was a drastic and largely unexpected decline in the Vosso salmon stock in the late 1980s. Because there were so many factors contributing to this decline simultaneously, it is difficult to pinpoint one main factor. It was certainly a combination of pollution from industry, road building and dredging upstream, as well as fishing pressure, escaped salmon from the farmed salmon industry and elevated sea lice levels due to the same. Restoration efforts today involve smolt production at the Voss Hatchery, and research to determine which of these factors are most deletrious, and thus how restoration efforts should continue to be focused. One exciting new development is that a network of fish farming companies located along the watershed has agreed to participate in restoration efforts through financing increased smolt production in coming years.

I have been out in the field most of January and February, mainly interviewing old fishermen. I am talking with people along the entire watershed, including fishermen from the river, fjord and coast and fish farmers, all with very different experiences of the salmon resource. There have historically been disagreements between groups of fishermen over who should get to catch the limited number of fish. Now the salmon have all but vanished from this watershed, and I am interested in the way these different groups of fishermen, as well as researchers, other local people, and particularly the farmed salmon industry, participate in the restoration of the resource and interact with one another.

Salmon and sea trout fishing is the jewel of the Norwegian sportfishing industry, and river landowners in Voss and Bolstad historically made significant money from renting their sections of river to rich Englishmen. If salmon restoration is successful in the Vosso River, these landowners stand to gain significant income from this sportfishery once again.

Salmon was an important source of income for fjord fishermen along the Vosso watershed in addition to farming and other industries. It was here that a very special fishing method and gear developed, called the sitjenot. Small huts were built into the sides of the fjord or up on stilts above the current (see photos to the right). Fishermen would sit in these towers and watch for fish swimming into the nets below – when there were fish, they would release weights from the tower that caused the net to rise up and trap the fish inside.

Fjord fishermen and coastal fishermen also used a gear called ‘kilenot,’ which was fished from land, and used a 'leading net' to direct fish into a fish trap. The kilenot was an improvement upon the krokgarn (hooked net), which is also still in use along the coast. A driftnet fishery for salmon started in the 1960s, and continued until the mid 1980s when it became prohibited due to declines in salmon stocks. Driftnet fishermen were diversified; in addition to salmon fishing, they had other kinds of gear and often other boats to pursue cod, mackerel, herring, tuna, sardines, and others. The salmon fishery even at its peak was nothing like Alaska. Most days fishermen would catch 1-15 fish, and 50-100 on a really good day.

Into the Backcountry

A very cool thing about Norway is the train, and the fact that the train passes through long stretches of uninhabited mountains and high plateaus (uninhabited save for the occasional hytta). You can grab your skis, ride comfortably to over 1000 meters above sea level, get off at your desired starting point and just start skiing.

The snowpack is deep and getting deeper by the week. I went with the University of Bergen’s outdoors club last weekend to refresh my avalanche awareness skills, dig a bunch of snow profiles and practice route-finding.

The hytta we stayed in was classic: dirty and cold, with a little wood stove. I have apparently lived an extremely sheltered life, because I have never learned how to chop ice-cold wood into kindling with a rusty, dull ax - the Norwegians took the ax from me and showed me how it was done... not effortless, but successful. But in spite of the chill, there was great warmth and joviality around the table with candles and warm food, warm drinks and stories of the snow.

It was a blizzard on Friday and Saturday, but surprisingly the snow was pretty stable where we were with no significant weak layers in our profiles. The temperature had been pretty stable, and the snow was binding together fairly well. On Sunday the sun came out and we went on a beautiful tour, including some amazing powder skiing on the way down to catch the train back to Bergen.

The Holidays in Norway

December was full of family visits, and the entire month felt like Christmas (except of course for the occasional 6 hour final exam, etc.) My Dad, Step-mom and Grandma were here in early December, and we welcomed the advent season at the Festival of Lights which included an amazing fireworks display above hundreds of individual torch lights and people singing Norwegian Christmas carols.

I’ve been especially lucky to have family here for both Christmas and New Years. My brother Alex and I went out on the town last night with a group of Germans, Belgians, French, Japanese and Norwegians. It was allegedly the last New Year’s celebration in which private fireworks would be allowed, so people put out quite an impressive last hurrah. Everywhere was lit up, throughout the center of town and along all the hillsides. The weather was beautiful with not a cloud in the sky, so we were able to actually be outside without fear of torrential downpour. That is an amazing gift when you live in Bergen.

Christmas was really fun and very meaningful. It was the first time my Mom had been to Norway since she was 22 years old. The relatives still live on the same farm where my great-grandmother grew up. She left Norway when she was 18 years old, moved to Petersburg, AK, and never had the chance to come back to Norway to visit. We all feel extremely grateful that we have the chance to know each other now - there are many wonderful cousins, including some very cool 3-12 year olds who are especially fun to hang out with. (There was quite a bit of Guitar Hero being played, mostly by Alex and the kids ;)

There was Lefse, and real homemade Lutefisk! There was Pinekjøtt (a traditional holiday dish of sheep ribs). There was an old skit aired on TV called “Dinner for One” that everyone must see at least once at Christmas. The Julenisse stopped by after Christmas-Eve dinner, especially to say merry Christmas to the littlest ones, and then all the presents were opened that night. We think it must be because the American relatives were visiting this year, but the American Nisse also came and brought stockings on Christmas morning. On Christmas Day there was homemade beer, an uncle who plays Hardanger fiddle, a neighbor who is one of the best accordion players in all of Norway and karaoke in both English and Norwegian (not to mention Guitar Hero).

Happy 2008!

Nobel Peace Prize

Norway’s most prominent international moment is perhaps the presentation of the Nobel Peace Prize. It makes headlines all over the world each year. I remember particular excitement surrounding the prize in 2004 when it was awarded to Wangari Maathai for her work in Kenya with the Greenbelt Movement. It was the first time that the Peace Prize had been linked to an environmental movement, and it stirred great controversy. Many claimed such awards would water down the Peace Prize, and that a distinction should be maintained between a prize focused on peace and one focused on the environment. But there were many others, myself included, who believed the choice was of revolutionary importance. If shortages of and dramatic changes in the stuff upon which our survival is based - of land, food, water and clean air - are not at the root of conflict, then what is?

Being in Norway with the Fulbright program, I was lucky to get a ticket to this year’s Peace Prize ceremony on December 10th, 2007. It was a fortuitous year to be here, as this year’s prize also elicited a similar debate. The Prize was shared between the International Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) and Al Gore for their work on global climate change issues. There have been many this Fall, as in the case of the 2004 selection, who have decried the Nobel Committee’s choice to single out an environmental issue for the Peace Prize. The introductory speech of Ole Danbolt Mjøs, the Chair of the Nobel Committee, responded to these criticisms and described the relationship between environment and peace, addressing the committee’s reasons for selecting global climate change as the peace issue of the day.

The ceremony contained the appropriate pomp and circumstance, with the King and other royalty in attendance at Oslo’s Town Hall. There were musical performances, including Pakistani pop-rock and Italian opera sung by famous Norwegian and Latvian opera singers. R.K. Pachauri, Chairman of the IPCC, accepted the prize on behalf of the organization. He spoke about the IPCC’s truly multi-national efforts to quantify the current global impacts of climate chance and predicted future impacts, providing essential background for policymaking.

Al Gore echoed many of his rallying cries from his movie and many speeches, among other things calling upon world leaders to meet early next year to review decisions that are made at the Bali Climate talks this week, and to meet with regularity until a treaty is achieved. He reminding us that “political will a renewable resource,” and called for a people’s movement. It is a great speech. Here is an excerpt:

"As the American poet Robert Frost wrote, 'Some say the world will end in fire; some say in ice.' Either, he notes, 'would suffice.' But neither need be our fate. It is time to make peace with the planet. We must quickly mobilize our civilization with the urgency and resolve that has previously been seen only when nations mobilized for war. These prior struggles for survival were won when leaders found words at the 11th hour that released a mighty surge of courage, hope and readiness to sacrifice for a protracted and mortal challenge."

You can find the text of all of the above speeches at: http://nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/peace/laureates/2007/

As I left Town Hall, I heard some elegantly clad Norwegian ladies joking uncomfortably about the airplane flights they would be taking on their way home, and I headed off to find my own carbon emitting mode of transportation back to Bergen. I know many of us are asking ourselves the same questions about how we can continue to live what we feel to be full, rich lives while putting the necessary changes into practice on the individual level and pushing for institutional change. I know one person (my father, Kurt Hoelting) who is about to start an exploratory ‘local year’ without leaving his home region, and without using a car, as an attempt to think deeper into this great dilemma we all share. His blog is http://insidepassages.blogspot.com/, and you can read more background about the project at: http://www.resurgence.org/2007/hoetling244.htm

Lena and Ole

I realized that the blog has been lacking in Lena and Ole jokes lately. Here's one from an unidentified family member of mine:

Ole and Lena had just come to America where Ole had a job promised to him. They were newlyweds and deeply in love. During the workday Ole would sneak home and they would have passionate love. Soon, Arne Ole's forman spotted Ole's absence and admonished him he would be fired if he kept on with this practice. But after two weeks Ole could stand it no longer and snuck toward their house. Coming around the bedroom window he saw Arne in bed with Lena. Oh my gosh, he ran back to the plant where he gasped to his best friend, Ralph. Boy, that was a close one. I just about got fired.

And if you like these jokes, here's a jackpot... pages and pages of 'em.
http://www.norskarv.com/jokes1.htm

Snow and Sailing

Bergen is rainy, and like Seattle snow is not all that common - at least snow that sticks. But the Arctic Winds visited us last weekend, bringing a snow storm to all of Northern Europe, and even in the lowlands we had a taste of winter. I hiked up Løvstakken with some friends on Saturday (one of the seven mountains that surround Bergen), and went sailing with the university sailing team in crazy weather on Sunday with sun, snow, rain, hail, and a full range of calm to storming wind conditions. We were practicing putting up the spinnaker with sun and calm winds, and when we felt menacing dark clouds turning day into night and the first sprinkling of snow mixed with rain, we learned how to take it down even more quickly!