UK Diving Conservation

'Today we have got 33 young harps,' says one of the sealers. 'It's okay, but not too good really. We took 140 seals in one afternoon a few days ago.'

The boat ride back to harbour stretches late into the night. I stay in the drizzle by the bow, looking out for icebergs. At last, the jetty appears slowly out of the fog. Dean jumps on to the dock to tie us down. The unloading process is once again repeated. The pelts are washed one by one with a high-pressure hose and a brush. A coat of anti-yellowing agent is then applied and the pelts are stacked in the shed alongside others already stored there. The second boat arrives a while later. This crew has killed 30 harps and a huge hooded seal, larger than the biggest man around. The harbour is coming to life and all kinds of people are coming to buy seal flippers, carcasses, hearts and livers. Money changes hands - $40 here, $20 there. 'Screw the tax man!'

Michael, the eldest Hearn brother, is a fisherman, as are most of the men in the family. Like his father and forefathers, he is also a sealer. 'I went on the big boats, Norwegians, in the Seventies. We made good money, but that was before the environmentalists spoiled it for us all.'

For almost two centuries, the seal hunt of the east Canadian coast had gone unnoticed; and during that time millions of seals were landed. In the early 1960s, a television documentary revealed the gruesome seal harvest to the world. It exposed the slaughter of hundreds of thousands of whitecoats in a rushed, brutish harvest. The locals, of course, made some money, but the real profits were made by European furriers. In 1964, the hunters killed 310,000 seals, including 225,000 whitecoats.

Animal-rights activists from the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (SPCA), Greenpeace, and others launched worldwide anti-hunt and anti-Canadian campaigns. The Sea Shepherd conservation society and the International Fund for Animal Welfare (IFAW) were born from these deaths on the ice.

'We were branded barbarians and blood-thirsty killers by the world media. It hurts,' remembers Antoine Poirier, the president of the Magdelenas Sealers' Association. 'We live on the land and from the land, just like the Inuits further north. Yet we are treated differently from the natives. The fish and the seals are better protected than we are.'

For a while it looked as if the environmentalists had won, and that sealing would be consigned to the past. On the east coast of Canada, modern technology turned fishing into a profitable industry and the need for sealing was dropping. But the means that once made fishing so profitable have now turned into its very downfall. The seas have been, and continue to be over-fished, and fish stocks are being depleted rapidly. Two years ago the Canadian government imposed a moratorium on cod fishing, soon followed by bans on harvesting other species.

Not so long ago 66 per cent of the working population of the area was employed by the fishing industry. Now the same industry has become the largest single source of unemployment. People are finding it difficult to stay in the province and the exodus has already started. It will get worse. Despite extended bans on catching certain species, fish stocks show no sign of recovery. In 1993, the government decided that the fishing industry should voluntarily down-size by 50 per cent before fishing could be resumed; but today the industry has yet to lose a fisherman. They are all waiting, hoping to be the lucky ones. Some have made use of the diversification programme, looking into less exploited resources such as sharks or sea urchins; but most are doing nothing. Two years of the six-year cod moratorium have passed, but government scientists are now estimating that the minimum time for stock recovery will be more than 14 years.

'We cannot just sit on our arses and wait' says Poirier. 'I am a fisherman. It's my life. My boat is my pride. When we lost the cod I had to find alternatives. I fish for lobster now, but the lobster stock is already showing signs of over-exploitation so I have started taking tourists sport-fishing and I have a commercial licence to take sharks.'

Poirier, like most people involved in fishing, believes that the falling fish stocks are mostly the fault of the seals and foreigners. 'Since the 1983 European ban on all products from whitecoats and blue-backs [the new-born hooded seals] the seal herds have been growing. The cod are still disappearing, and the seals are having a ball.'

In 1995, Brian Tobin, a Newfoundlander and the then federal Fisheries Minister, launched Canada into a fish war against the Spanish fishing fleet on the high seas of the northern Atlantic. Tobin, later to become Newfoundland's Premier, needed the support of the fishing-industry lobby as well as votes from the east-coast fishing communities. He announced his official support for a full seal hunt loudly and clearly. To encourage people to hunt, the government subsidised the meat and widened access to the seals to any Canadian citizen holding a hunting permit (they must be accompanied by an experienced sealer). The government is also helping the seal industry in its research of new markets and in the development of new products.

The promise of subsidies is also attracting entrepreneurs. A couple of projects are already going ahead, funded by the federal and provincial governments. Gyslain Cyr, a fisherman, gave up the prestigious position of president of the Magdalenas' Sealers Association to concentrate on his company, Bioceane. Bioceane is a pilot project aiming to transform seal blubber into oil for human consumption, but it is not relying on a new, miracle discovery. Various research papers show that seal blubber is rich in omega-3 fatty acid, a substance sought by the natural medicine industry. The government is one of the partners in Cyr's venture. It subsidises the research and the development, and has supplied the initial investment. Cyr hopes it will become a viable business, and currently survives through the winters on unemployment benefit. 'The best way to destroy a man is to pay him to do nothing. I like working much better. Today, Bioceane is buying the pelts for $11 each to get the blubber. From there we will extract the oil. Studies have been done on the Inuits - they are very healthy even though they smoke heavily. They eat seal oil like ketchup!'

Seal oil is already being sold as a food supplement in Asia, and a German pharmaceutical firm has also shown interest and ordered samples for research purposes. The trade in seal penises for aphrodisiac purposes continues. In fact, the restrictions on hunting in the Eighties actually pushed the price up and a healthy black market has continued to flourish.

The Carino Company Limited, the Canadian arm of the Norwegian furriers GC Rieber, is based in Dildo, the oldest sealing and whaling community in Newfoundland. It separates the skins and blubber, turning the blubber into industrial-quality seal oil for use in soaps and shampoos. The skins are cleaned, graded and salted. The factory is managed by Knut Nygaard, a Norwegian-born Canadian resident. 'We have just reopened the plant,' he says. 'We were closed in 1994 due to the collapse in the market, but things are picking up again. Any licensed sealer is welcome. We have a fixed price list, based on quality only. The top price for a beater's pelt is $16 - that's for a seal killed with a club or shot clean through the head. For every cut or additional bullet hole we deduct $2 from the price tag. It is not necessary to shoot them more than once and it's stupid, anyway, as the meat may become contaminated if a bullet has torn through the guts. I have worked here a long time but I have never been on the seal hunt. I think it is done humanely.'

The 1995 seal-hunt season was hampered by bad weather, and came to a close with 66,000 seals landed. The following year proved decisive. In December 1995, Brian Tobin announced a new seal quota of 250,000 before resigning as Fisheries Minister to become Newfoundland's Premier. He also seriously considered authorising the return of factory ships to hunt for seals. In 1995, the ice breaker Polar Explorer, owned by the shipping company Puddesters, was moored in St John's Harbour all spring, waiting for the green light.

By the end of the spring in 1996, it was reported that the seal quota had been met and surpassed. Various violations of the sealing act were recorded by Ministry of Fisheries agents, the main breaches being the taking of whitecoats and blue backs. In 1997 the quota was easily met and the pressure is on to keep increasing it. Canadian authorities estimate the seal population at four million and there are no independent, reliable figures. While the pressure is on to provide an income for fishermen such as the Hearns, the killing will continue - that is until, like the cod, the stocks disappear and the ice floes are left sterile and deserted. Then the fishermen really will be forced to leave the frozen killing fields.

Death on the ice	Page 1 \| 2
'Today we have got 33 young harps,' says one of the sealers. 'It's okay, but not too good really. We took 140 seals in one afternoon a few days ago.' The boat ride back to harbour stretches late into the night. I stay in the drizzle by the bow, looking out for icebergs. At last, the jetty appears slowly out of the fog. Dean jumps on to the dock to tie us down. The unloading process is once again repeated. The pelts are washed one by one with a high-pressure hose and a brush. A coat of anti-yellowing agent is then applied and the pelts are stacked in the shed alongside others already stored there. The second boat arrives a while later. This crew has killed 30 harps and a huge hooded seal, larger than the biggest man around. The harbour is coming to life and all kinds of people are coming to buy seal flippers, carcasses, hearts and livers. Money changes hands - $40 here, $20 there. 'Screw the tax man!' Michael, the eldest Hearn brother, is a fisherman, as are most of the men in the family. Like his father and forefathers, he is also a sealer. 'I went on the big boats, Norwegians, in the Seventies. We made good money, but that was before the environmentalists spoiled it for us all.' For almost two centuries, the seal hunt of the east Canadian coast had gone unnoticed; and during that time millions of seals were landed. In the early 1960s, a television documentary revealed the gruesome seal harvest to the world. It exposed the slaughter of hundreds of thousands of whitecoats in a rushed, brutish harvest. The locals, of course, made some money, but the real profits were made by European furriers. In 1964, the hunters killed 310,000 seals, including 225,000 whitecoats. Animal-rights activists from the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (SPCA), Greenpeace, and others launched worldwide anti-hunt and anti-Canadian campaigns. The Sea Shepherd conservation society and the International Fund for Animal Welfare (IFAW) were born from these deaths on the ice. 'We were branded barbarians and blood-thirsty killers by the world media. It hurts,' remembers Antoine Poirier, the president of the Magdelenas Sealers' Association. 'We live on the land and from the land, just like the Inuits further north. Yet we are treated differently from the natives. The fish and the seals are better protected than we are.' For a while it looked as if the environmentalists had won, and that sealing would be consigned to the past. On the east coast of Canada, modern technology turned fishing into a profitable industry and the need for sealing was dropping. But the means that once made fishing so profitable have now turned into its very downfall. The seas have been, and continue to be over-fished, and fish stocks are being depleted rapidly. Two years ago the Canadian government imposed a moratorium on cod fishing, soon followed by bans on harvesting other species. Not so long ago 66 per cent of the working population of the area was employed by the fishing industry. Now the same industry has become the largest single source of unemployment. People are finding it difficult to stay in the province and the exodus has already started. It will get worse. Despite extended bans on catching certain species, fish stocks show no sign of recovery. In 1993, the government decided that the fishing industry should voluntarily down-size by 50 per cent before fishing could be resumed; but today the industry has yet to lose a fisherman. They are all waiting, hoping to be the lucky ones. Some have made use of the diversification programme, looking into less exploited resources such as sharks or sea urchins; but most are doing nothing. Two years of the six-year cod moratorium have passed, but government scientists are now estimating that the minimum time for stock recovery will be more than 14 years. 'We cannot just sit on our arses and wait' says Poirier. 'I am a fisherman. It's my life. My boat is my pride. When we lost the cod I had to find alternatives. I fish for lobster now, but the lobster stock is already showing signs of over-exploitation so I have started taking tourists sport-fishing and I have a commercial licence to take sharks.' Poirier, like most people involved in fishing, believes that the falling fish stocks are mostly the fault of the seals and foreigners. 'Since the 1983 European ban on all products from whitecoats and blue-backs [the new-born hooded seals] the seal herds have been growing. The cod are still disappearing, and the seals are having a ball.' In 1995, Brian Tobin, a Newfoundlander and the then federal Fisheries Minister, launched Canada into a fish war against the Spanish fishing fleet on the high seas of the northern Atlantic. Tobin, later to become Newfoundland's Premier, needed the support of the fishing-industry lobby as well as votes from the east-coast fishing communities. He announced his official support for a full seal hunt loudly and clearly. To encourage people to hunt, the government subsidised the meat and widened access to the seals to any Canadian citizen holding a hunting permit (they must be accompanied by an experienced sealer). The government is also helping the seal industry in its research of new markets and in the development of new products. The promise of subsidies is also attracting entrepreneurs. A couple of projects are already going ahead, funded by the federal and provincial governments. Gyslain Cyr, a fisherman, gave up the prestigious position of president of the Magdalenas' Sealers Association to concentrate on his company, Bioceane. Bioceane is a pilot project aiming to transform seal blubber into oil for human consumption, but it is not relying on a new, miracle discovery. Various research papers show that seal blubber is rich in omega-3 fatty acid, a substance sought by the natural medicine industry. The government is one of the partners in Cyr's venture. It subsidises the research and the development, and has supplied the initial investment. Cyr hopes it will become a viable business, and currently survives through the winters on unemployment benefit. 'The best way to destroy a man is to pay him to do nothing. I like working much better. Today, Bioceane is buying the pelts for $11 each to get the blubber. From there we will extract the oil. Studies have been done on the Inuits - they are very healthy even though they smoke heavily. They eat seal oil like ketchup!' Seal oil is already being sold as a food supplement in Asia, and a German pharmaceutical firm has also shown interest and ordered samples for research purposes. The trade in seal penises for aphrodisiac purposes continues. In fact, the restrictions on hunting in the Eighties actually pushed the price up and a healthy black market has continued to flourish. The Carino Company Limited, the Canadian arm of the Norwegian furriers GC Rieber, is based in Dildo, the oldest sealing and whaling community in Newfoundland. It separates the skins and blubber, turning the blubber into industrial-quality seal oil for use in soaps and shampoos. The skins are cleaned, graded and salted. The factory is managed by Knut Nygaard, a Norwegian-born Canadian resident. 'We have just reopened the plant,' he says. 'We were closed in 1994 due to the collapse in the market, but things are picking up again. Any licensed sealer is welcome. We have a fixed price list, based on quality only. The top price for a beater's pelt is $16 - that's for a seal killed with a club or shot clean through the head. For every cut or additional bullet hole we deduct $2 from the price tag. It is not necessary to shoot them more than once and it's stupid, anyway, as the meat may become contaminated if a bullet has torn through the guts. I have worked here a long time but I have never been on the seal hunt. I think it is done humanely.' The 1995 seal-hunt season was hampered by bad weather, and came to a close with 66,000 seals landed. The following year proved decisive. In December 1995, Brian Tobin announced a new seal quota of 250,000 before resigning as Fisheries Minister to become Newfoundland's Premier. He also seriously considered authorising the return of factory ships to hunt for seals. In 1995, the ice breaker Polar Explorer, owned by the shipping company Puddesters, was moored in St John's Harbour all spring, waiting for the green light. By the end of the spring in 1996, it was reported that the seal quota had been met and surpassed. Various violations of the sealing act were recorded by Ministry of Fisheries agents, the main breaches being the taking of whitecoats and blue backs. In 1997 the quota was easily met and the pressure is on to keep increasing it. Canadian authorities estimate the seal population at four million and there are no independent, reliable figures. While the pressure is on to provide an income for fishermen such as the Hearns, the killing will continue - that is until, like the cod, the stocks disappear and the ice floes are left sterile and deserted. Then the fishermen really will be forced to leave the frozen killing fields.
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