hankyoreh

By Nam Jong Yeong, Reporter for the Hankyoreh 21

Geojin Harbor in Goseong County, Gangwon Province stood quiet on September 6. The typhoon warning for that morning had been cancelled, yet the boats in dock did not venture into the sea. At one corner of the port lay a long fishing reel, used to catch walleye pollack. Lee Tae-hong, 68, started catching walleye in his twenties; on this day, he stood with a vacant look in his eyes. Indicating the reel sitting unused on the dock, he said, "I guess that fishing line belongs in a museum now."

Mr. Lee took me over to his fishing tackle storage shed. The door opened to a room stacked with discarded fishing nets. They were nets used to catch the deep-sea dwelling walleye during its spawning season. In the thick vernacular spoken by the people of his trade, he told us that the nets too would no longer be of any use.

"If I say to the district office that I am no longer fishing for walleye, I can receive 25,000 won [US$25 USD] for each net I turn in. Yet I have no reason to be reluctant [to do so]. The walleye ain’t comin’ back..."

In the 1970s, Mr. Lee would set out on his boat, returning with a smile on his face and some 20 "loads" of walleye in stow. In these parts, 10 walleyes comprise a "string" of fish, and 10 strings make one full "load." In other words, he would leave at dawn to trawl and return by 11 a.m. with a haul of 2,000 fish. When frigid January came around and the walleyes entered their mating season, the fishermen dubbed the fish "the crops of winter solstice," for catching walleyes was as easy as digging up radishes.

The three ports of Goseong County were bustling with walleye commerce even until the early 1990s. The sale of walleyes continued from morning until 2 a.m. the next day. A migratory cold water fish, the walleye would journey through the Sea of Ohkotsk and head for the waters east of Korea in October to breed. By March and April of the following year, they would head North alongside the newborn fry. But the days of seeing this walleye migration have come to an end.

Starting in the 1990s, hauls of walleye began to ebb. Whereas the 1980s witnessed an average annual catch of nearly 20,000 tons, the load fell to a mere 5,000 tons in the following decade. Since 2000, this figure has dropped considerably. Fishermen gathered 336 tons in 2003, 72 tons in 2004, and a mere 17 tons of fish last year. That is 0.001 percent of the amount trawled in 1985.

"Fisherman don’t trawl for the walleye anymore" said Park Pyeong-won, chief of the fishing village of Daejin. The dried walleyes found hanging beneath the sun in such towns as Daegwanryeong, Jinbu, and Yongdaeri now all come from Russian waters. These days, fishermen hardly lay a hand on the walleye fishing reels and nets between October and March. Only if a stray walleye wanders into their nets will they attempt to use such tackle. Kim Yong-bok, leader of the Goseong County Marine Industries Cooperative, said, "In 2001, some 30 walleye fishing vessels were retired." Some captains and mariners have left their occupation, he said, and some have left town altogether.

Why are the walleye disappearing? Village chief Park Pyeong-won and fisherman Lee Tae-hong both agree that the seawater has gotten warmer. "The water here is warm to the touch. Before, a fishnet sinker retrieved from the ocean depths would be freezing cold."

This phenomenon is found beyond these waters. The efforts of fishermen who need to take in a haul of squid during August and September are meeting with little success. Originally, the squid would swim past Ulleung Island, making their way to the coasts off North Korea before returning south. Jo Han-gi, General Affairs Manager of the Goseong County Marine Industries Cooperative, said, "The current ocean temperatures here are too warm for walleyes, but too cold for squid. That is why some 32 fishing vessels have bade farewell to the docks of Goseong for villages off of the Yellow Sea, the newly emerged centers for squid catching. Cooperative leader Kim Yong-bok said, "With the journey there taking 36 hours and the corresponding price of fuel coming to 3.6 million won, why would anyone stick around here?

Research has been done on the rise of temperature in Korea’s eastern sea. The results of a study released last year by the Research Institute of Oceanography at Seoul University were particularly surprising. Analyzing the satellite data gathered by the U.S. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration from 1985 to 2001, they found that the average temperature of Korea’s eastern waters increased by 1.5 degrees Celsius over that period. This translates to a rise of 0.087 degrees Celsius each year, a figure 6 times larger than the average annual rise of 0.014 degrees Celsius witnessed in global water during the same time period. As fish are cold-blooded, specialists warn that a 1-degree rise in water temperature for them is equivalent to a 10-degree increase in land temperatures for us. In other words, the shock to the ecosystem is quite significant.

The rise in the temperatures of Korea’s eastern sea is attributed to the weakening of the cold current that flows in from the north. This northern cold current originates in the Sea of Ohkotsk and then travels down the coast of Russia’s Far Eastern provinces. Yet due to global warning, the high atmospheric pressure over Siberia has decreased, blocking the formation of the North polar icecap and causing the icecap’s slow destruction. In contrast, the warm Kuroshio Current has spread to the northern parts of Korea’s eastern sea. To the walleyes, who follow the cold current from the North, it has become increasingly difficult to swim south.

Dr. Myeong Jeong-gu of the Korea Ocean Research and Development Institute has been monitoring fish in five locations off the coastal waters of the Korean peninsula. "Warm water fish are heading North. Similarly, the line separating warm water from cold water fish is constantly moving north," he said.

According to Dr. Myeong’s recent research, the coralfish and half-lined cardinal fish found in the waters off Jeju Island and the Liangcourt Rocks are congregating in large schools in the offing of Hupo, North Kyeongsang Province, and coralfish and bamboo leaf wrasse are making their habitation amongst the foliage of the ecklonia cava strain of seaweed found on the seafloor off South Korea’s southern coast. Doctor Myeong explained, "Subtropical fish have started to multiply in the waters off of the Korean peninsula."

The fishermen accustomed to Korea’s eastern sea are bewildered with the abrupt change. Though the walleye’s disappearance is partly a product of global warming, many say that the bigger culprit is overfishing, done through techniques such as mid-water pair trawling (where a pair of boats travel in tandem, a trawl hung between them). Large fishing companies catch all of the walleyes that come their way from the Sea of Ohkotsk and the Bering Strait, despite this species’ infrequent spawning. Recently, North Korea has permitted Chinese industries to fish in the waters off of North Gangwon Province, only worsening the situation.

In any case, the sudden changes suffered by the fishermen on Korea’s eastern coast appear to have come from a defeat in the so-called win-win game of protecting nature while building up industry. Whether through overfishing or global warming, the result, sadly, is the same.