Everett salmon fishing family has always netted its profits from the Sound and its bounty

Originally published Saturday, July 12, 1997

By JON HAHN  
SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER COLUMNIST

Almost unnoticed in the summer shadow of Naval Station Everett, the 57-foot Polarland sparkles with new coats of paint and varnish. Jim Leese Jr. is touching up trim in the galley while Jim Leese Sr. is working on the big diesel below decks.

This purse seiner, berthed not far from the huge aircraft carrier Abraham Lincoln, used to be the 70-year-old Jim Sr.'s vessel. And his father's before him. Now Jim Jr., 48, is master and owner, and his father is one of the crew.

In a matter of days, three generations of Leeses will sail in search of salmon. Jared Leese, 19, will join his father and grandfather aboard the Polarland. The Leese in the middle will be the Leese up top in the bright white wheelhouse, while his father and son haul in the fish at sea level.

"Years ago, Jim's grandfather bought this and I ran the Solta," said the elder Leese. "But that first year, I crewed for him on this vessel, and I didn't like it."

"Now this, this I like!" he said, wiping engine grease and oil off his big hands and smiling over the small galley table at Jim Jr., the third-generation Leese to be master of this neat-as-a-pin wood-hull vessel.

"I have none of the (captain's) responsibility and I can sit in here when we're not tending the nets and just B.S. with the cook. I was sort of 'retired,' but Jim asked me if I would crew for him. And it's been my whole life."

His son smiles and nods agreement. For him, too, purse seining for salmon throughout Puget Sound has been what he knows, what he's done since he was 13. There were several years fishing the limited-entry hot spot of Southeast Alaska, but he was drawn back home to Everett, where his great-uncles began purse seining as soon as they could leave the family farm. In fact, one had already fished the Great Lakes, back when the Leese family farmed in Michigan.

There was Uncle Bill on the Mermaid Uncle Walt on the Montague and Uncle Al on the Sunset. And the elder Leese's brother, Dick, now is master of the old Solta. "All seiners, every man, and that was in the days when you pulled the nets by hand. Long, hard days. You went out on a Sunday and came home on a Friday and had just enough time to shower, shave, get clean clothes and go back out again," said Jim Sr.

Nowadays, there are only about 100 purse seiners fishing Puget Sound, they said. The Polarland only goes out for two or three days at a time, and only during the limited fisheries seasons, which sometimes are only those two or three days. "There are more restrictions even though there are more fish," said Jim Jr.

And fish don't bring as good a price as they used to, they note. Last year sockeye brought them about $1.50 per pound, Jim Jr. said. "And fall chums, a good fish, brought only 20 or 25 cents."

On a good trip, they might boat as many as 5,000 fish. "It depends on the tides and the weather, and when they allow you to fish. Some days, we get nothing," said the elder Leese.

Jim took over the $100,000 vessel from his father, but diesel fuel still costs 85 or 90 cents per gallon for their 900-gallon tank. And crew members fish for shares -- about 10 percent of the gross value of the fish, after deducting for fuel and groceries.

As small businessmen, commercial fishermen have to cover all their own fringe benefits, including medical insurance, pension, etc. Jim Jr. still is holding a Southeast Alaska limited-entry license from the several years he fished there. The license has a market value of "about $45,000 right now, because there are only about 370 licenses," he said. The same paper used to sell for $125,000, he noted.

Jim Jr. said he paid about $25,000 in 1978 for his license to fish Puget Sound. It's now worth about $3,000, he said.

"But it's still a fun way to make a living," said his father.

From Point Roberts on the north to Hood Canal and points south, from about this time in early summer to mid-October, they are on the water for as long as regulations and weather permit. In the old days, purse seiners rode out the bad weather in port and even played baseball ashore until tides and winds gentled, the elder Leese said.

But that ended as competition increased. And it was in a 20-knot wind and heavy seas that Jim Jr. was knocked overboard as a teenage deck hand, said his mother, Juanita, with a slight quaver in her voice. "Dad was at the wheel and they were under way, when one of the crew happened to look up and see something that didn't look right," she said.

It was young Jim, then about 15, knocked overboard and going down under the weight of full sea gear, once, twice and three times. "That's one reason you always buy your boots a size too large, so you can kick 'em off!" he said. A crewman leaped into their skiff and went back for the barely visible teen. "I was so weak by then that I could only hang onto the line he tossed me, and he hauled me in by the seat of my pants!" said Jim.

His mother said it "was difficult, especially when you're newly wed and your husband is gone six days at a time. In the early days, they had no radio or phone, and it was difficult not having contact. You had to be both mother and father until they came home."

She also remembers the one season her husband's cook failed to show. "Women were always considered 'Jonahs' on the boats, but it was the day before they were to leave, and he came home and asked me if I would cook. I said I would be delighted to. I thought it went well, and I was planning to do more. But he only asked that once." Still, things must have worked out in this ship-to-shore-and-back-again life, because Juanita and Jim Sr. just celebrated their 50th anniversary.

Leah, Jim Jr.'s wife, said she "knew what I was getting into" when she met him at a party for her uncle, who crewed for Jim Sr.. "It was hard getting used to his leaving in the summertime, those first few years. You just stand there and cry. But the fisherman's wife learns she's in charge of everything, and then when he comes home, you hand it all back to him.

"Jim's been a great dad. And when he's home, he does as much or more than I do . . . washing windows, cooking. You see how clean they keep their boat; they keep their homes the same way. And I was able to go to work while he watched the kids in the winter. They even had chickenpox on his watch!"

There are all the regular onshore routines that have to be handled, but fishing is the focal point of the extended family. "When we all get together for the holidays and we're sitting at the table, they tell fish stories. And they talk fishing all year around. It's a very special tradition," she said.

"The life has been good, but the resource and the market is diminishing. Jim has fished with his dad since he was 13, but our son knows that this can't be how he makes his living."

Her husband can see over the same horizon. "Our son has fished on and off for a couple of years now, and he enjoys it, just like I did. But he's smart enough to know there's not a good future in (fishing) Puget Sound.

"Me . . . I'll try to fish for salmon as long as I'm healthy enough."

Jon Hahn is a staff columnist who writes three times a week in the P-I.