EDITOR’S NOTE: Irene Martin, the foremost historian of the Columbia River fishing industry, has written a series of articles about the Columbia River Packers Association.

The CRPA was the product of a historic merger of several of the Columbia’s major salmon canners in 1899. It dominated the industry for most of the 20th century, employing thousands of individuals on both sides of the river, in Alaska and elsewhere. Eventually changing its name to Bumble Bee Seafoods, CRPA is a fascinating story of capitalism, adventure and social change.

Eventually to be gathered in a book, this series represents years of effort undertaken at the behest of Bumble Bee retirees. Originally started by historian Roger Tetlow, who before his death in 1999 lived on the Peninsula and in Hammond, Ore., the CRPA project was taken up by the Chinook Observer as part of its commitment to preserving and telling local history.

We are proud to publish this series. We will soon begin soliciting pre-sales for the richly illustrated book that we anticipate publishing in about one year.

Gillnetters, trapmen, seiners, fish wheel operators all contributed in varying amounts to the salmon processed by the CRPA each year in its early days. The first fishermen were mainly from the east coast of the U.S. or from Canada, while later arrivals immigrated from Scandinavia, Finland and the Dalmatian Coast. An early stereotype of the fisherman appeared in the Portland Oregonian:

“Taking one consideration with another the lot of the Columbia River fisherman is not a happy one. He is exposed to all weathers, is drenched to the skin every night, is in constant peril of his life from the dangers of the river … and must divide his days between sleep and the work of repairing his nets.

“But Saturday night is the fisherman’s holiday, and then … he makes up by a grand debauch for all the privations and hardships of the week. Astoria affords every opportunity and allurement of vice in its lowest forms and on Saturday night the town fairly howls. During the fishing season it is perhaps the most wicked place on earth for its population.”

In 1876 the Columbia River Fishermen’s Beneficial Aid Society formed, to provide a death benefit to women whose husbands died while fishing. This organization became the nucleus for the Columbia River Fishermen’s Protective Union (CRFPU), first incorporated in 1879. It underwent several reorganizations and affiliated with American Federation of Labor in 1886. The union, which is still in existence, attempted to get both better prices and better working conditions for the Columbia River gillnetters. It also did some public relations work on behalf of the fishermen, noting that the conditions that had given rise to the Oregonian’s diatribe about Astoria had changed dramatically by the 1890s.

“Before the inauguration of the ‘Fishermen’s Union,’ the most prevalent vice among the fishermen was that of drunkenness; but go through the city of Astoria now, and though there are drinking places there, yet the sight of an inebriated person is something uncommon … Again, prior to the inauguration of the Union, a great many of the fishermen were wholly transient men who came here during the fishing season and took away from the community whatever they had earned, when they left. This latter class have been almost entirely dispensed with … Marriages among the fishing population have also shown an enormous increase … A mighty moral uplifting has taken place … we have a higher and nobler type of manhood than ever before in the annals of this industry.”

Gillnetters saw the advantage in establishing themselves as part of the solid citizenry of the lower Columbia River, and were by far the best organized of any of the fishing groups, with their own office, a reading room and local chapters in small communities on both sides of the river. In the early 1930s the CRFPU also included cannery workers, substantially increasing its membership and influence. Other fishermen’s associations also formed, including the Washington Trapmens Association and the Columbia River District Trollers Union, as well as a trappers and seiners organization in the early 20th century. The Astoria-based Pacific Coast Fisheries Union comprised mainly trollers and affiliated with the International Seaman’s Union of America.

The CRPA worked with fishermen on issues of mutual concern, including legislation and the placement of buoys and lights for navigation, from the very early days. The company chose to develop a policy of cooperation with fishermen when possible, a choice not all packers adopted. A letter from pioneer packer George W. Hume, March 28, 1902, to the CRPA railed, “You know fishermen now days are not as they were in Christ’s time. They lie and they have forgotten the commandment “Thou shalt not steal.” As long as I have been acquanited [sic] with fishermen, I have never known such a worthless set of things, as there are looking for jobs to go to Alaska this year. They are not worthy of being called men.” CRPA chose a more respectful approach to its fishermen. While the company could drive a hard bargain, no letter comparable to that written by George Hume exists in their archives.

Early cooperation between fishers and packers was enhanced because many of the fishermen fished company boats and some even fished company gear, thus encouraging them to work more closely with the company. With the development of the marine gasoline engine, those fishermen who were independent had an advantage as they could invest in the superior technology, while the packers were reluctant to do so due to the cost of retrofitting an entire fleet of boats. The Astoria Daily Budget was quick to point out the competitive edge:

“Fishermen on the Columbia River are commencing to realize that the motor boat is just about the right thing for their business, judging from the number of new motor fish boats that can be seen along the water from day to day. It is estimated that there are over 175 of these crafts now in active use on the river, and possibly as many more will be added to the list before another season passes. This new and modern style of fishing boat has reversed the old order of things somewhat. Instead of carrying the net in the stern of the boat, most of them now carry and lay out their nets from the forward, and thus avoiding any contact with the engine or causing the net to become entangled in the propellor. Those who have adopted this plan say it works admirably. The greatest difficulty in the operation of a motor fish boat is to keep the propellor clear while handling and crossing various nets. To overcome this fault baskets, wire netting, steel shoes, hoops and various other devises [sic] have been employed. Many fishermen make good use of their motor boats during the winter season, going to and from the city at their pleasure and in many instances they do quite a freighting business.”

The advent of the gasoline engine led to the development of trolling, so that by the mid 1930s the Columbia River and coastal fisheries were dominated by independent fishermen who owned their own boats and gear and could, in theory at least, sell to whichever company they wished.

The theory did not work for the company fishermen who fished in Bristol Bay.

On Bristol Bay in Alaska, company-owned sailboats were the norm until the mid-20th century. Bristol Bay is one of the most un-navigable bodies of water in the world, with tides running 20 feet or more. The bay is dotted with numerous sand bars, plagued with strong dangerous currents and frequent squalls. The fishermen who fished the bay at the beginning of the 20th century fished in sailing boats, each of which was manned by two men who lived and worked together six days a week, sailing the boat to the fishing grounds, putting out the nets and pulling them in again with the salmon catch. If they were lucky they would get a tow out to their fishing grounds from the company tender which frequently moved from the cannery to the grounds towing 10 to 20 gillnet boats behind her. Once there, the men would pull down the sail, put out the nets and then spend hours fishing. If they managed to fill their boat with salmon, they would sail to the tender, to a scow or to the cannery to unload, receiving a voucher documenting the numbers of fish catch. They had to unload the fish themselves, using pughs or long poles with sharp points on them to toss each fish into a bin for counting. They then washed the boat, and if they had time they might eat a hurried meal on the scow or at the cannery and then sail out again for the fishing grounds. During fair weather they might get a chance to take turns sleeping in the small tent at the bow of the boat. Since daylight lasts nearly 24 hours during the peak of the Bristol Bay season, they fished around the clock, getting a break once a week during the Sunday closed season.

Declining Columbia River summer salmon runs drove fishermen to Alaska. They used their company connections to obtain backing for boats and gear, or used company boats, thus obligating them to fish for the company that backed them, no matter what price offered for fish. An independent fisherman on the Columbia River who sold his fish to CRPA might become a CRPA fisherman in Alaska, but the terms were different. Even if not fishing a company-owned boat, the fisherman stored his own boat at the cannery storage shed. Lodging, food, engine parts, a cannery carpenter, a net loft and storage were all amenities provided by the cannery that were not available otherwise, certainly not in the local community. The fisherman and company thus engaged in a complex relationship of reciprocal obligations.

Gillnetters started early in their lives to learn the occupation: Roger Jolma of Clatskanie began fishing while still in the eighth grade, going out with a schoolmate (his first partner) and his father. “He didn’t want me to be a fisherman, but it was in my blood,” Jolma said. Wilmer Johnson was six years old when he began fishing with his 11-year-old brother; Hank Ramvick was 10 when he started fishing with an older fisherman. Early experience with fishing, and being born into a fishing family where the knowledge of how to fish was passed on through generations, developed a fishing fleet with a deep and intimate knowledge of fishing in all its aspects. Ties with communities and canneries developed over many years and with multiple generations of relatives. Grandfather, father and son might all fish for the same cannery, along with extended family members.

Canneries engaged in stiff competition to attract top fishermen. Wilmer Johnson, Cottardi fisherman, explained “I fished for CRPA … and they were always anxious to get fishermen so the boss … tells me he’d give me a good house. We had the next best house in Altoona and he gave that to me so I’d come and fish for them.” Companies would back fishermen for gear, new boats and living expenses depending upon production records. John McGowan, past president of the company, outlined the method:

“A cannery wanted to know what a fisherman’s production record had been before they would back him … for nets and a boat … or just money to tide his family over the winter to coming of the next spring of the Columbia River season. And … you’d get this information from other fishermen who knew these people … and if they were average to good producers, honest guys, you would back them because certainly if you didn’t, somebody else was going to anyway. And there was a lot of competition between the companies … that competed directly against each other for fishermen in certain areas. In Ilwaco where I grew up, we were constantly competing with CRPA and of course, I was on the other side in those days. I was working for P.J. McGowan & Sons and actually bought fish for a couple of summers on a scow up at Hungry Harbor, up at Megler. So, you know, CRPA in those days was our blood enemy. We fought them over the Sand Island thing and we were constantly locking horns with them over fishermen in Ilwaco. They were constantly trying to persuade our best producers to come on over to CRPA and we were working on some of their guys … “

A feature of the CRPA was its policy of promoting from within, including within the fishing fleet. Fishermen related much better to fishermen in management positions than to a newly minted MBA graduate, as the veneer of egalitarianism that fishermen valued highly was preserved. The company had an intimate knowledge of its fishermen and their capabilities. A fisherman who proved he could do a cannery-related job could conceivably work his way up to a management position. Lew Wright stated that his father, Floyd Wright, started with CRPA in 1936. “He had been a gillnetter … and went to work as superintendent of the cannery at Vancouver, at Ellsworth, and was there in ’36 and in August of ’37 – [and then] the production manager and treasurer of CRPA passed away and they wanted my dad to come to Astoria and take over his duties and of course he did.”

Barbara Begleries remembered her husband’s career with CRPA:

“Nick was a gillnetter on the Columbia River. He was born in Astoria but lived in Clifton all his life … After the war he moved back to Clifton and started fishing again … and fished for about 10 years before Bumble Bee hired him to go to Alaska and he was a net boss first and then went to Nushagak where he was a kind of boss for the gillnetting … After that CRPA approached him to go to work for them so he sold his gillnet boat … They sent him to the cold storage where he learned all about that and then down to the cannery to learn about that and then they sent him buying tuna. He went down the Oregon coast and they sent him to the east coast buying tuna. He did very well at that so Castle and Cook bought that plant in Surinam and they needed a manager and he came home on Valentine’s Day with a big box of candy and said, “Pack your bags, we’re moving to South America.”

Another gillnetter from Clifton, John Gizdavich, promoted first to manager of the company’s operations in Newport, Ore., ultimately became manager of the CRPA’s Tokyo office.

In part because of their practice of promoting from within, thus assuring that management understood fishermen’s needs, and in part because of the Columbia River/Alaska connection, the CRPA developed close, sometimes paternalistic, relations with its fishermen. John McGowan described one example of top management’s view:

“I think that CRPA did have a very close relationship with a lot of those people [gillnetters in the middle river area] … .Within a year or two within the time I retired … in 1981, Castle and Cooke management was intent on selling any real estate that we owned that wasn’t productive from a standpoint of earning income … the Clifton property was one of the many that was pretty much in that category and I insisted that we give our fishermen there an opportunity to buy it because we were getting offers from developers … that had ideas of … making a summer home community there … And I thought geez these guys have fished for us not only on the Columbia River but a lot of them in Alaska, for not one generation but in many cases, a couple, three generations and we owe it to those guys to give them an opportunity to acquire that and that’s what we did. We got appraisals and sold it to them at the lowest possible price that I could sell it to them and still maintain my responsibilities for Castle and Cooke.”

The long-term CRPA policy of working with fishermen, establishing close relationships that involved multiple communities, multiple fisheries and multiple generations paid off during times of crisis. The company was able to mobilize fishermen, cannery workers and whole communities to advocate for the fishing industry. A case in point was the fight against the Oregon initiative petition to close the Columbia River to commercial fishing in 1965-66, brought forward by a number of sport fishing organizations. Bumble Bee Seafoods was the largest packer involved in the Columbia River Salmon and Tuna Packers Association, and the leader in the campaign to defeat the initiative. John McGowan described how they organized:

“We hired a public relations firm in Portland to help us, but I also hired a speech professor from Portland State University to come down and give a bunch of guys from the industry … speech lessons because we were determined to go out and talk to every Kiwanis Club and Chamber of Commerce and Rotary Club that we could get to around the state … And we got to them and with the little training that the guys got on how to organize the story that they wanted to tell, they were very effective. And the result was while we were slated to lose that election … we got 72 percent of the popular vote … We took about 500 people down to Salem, Ore., most of them cannery workers in their uniforms in a whole procession of Greyhound busses and dumped them on the steps of the capitol and had a big rip-roaring get together down there and we got a lot of publicity, a lot of attention, we just whopped the sportsmen in that deal. And that was really a very satisfying effort because, you know, equity was totally on our side. There was no more reason to eliminate commercial fishing on the Columbia River than there would be to send a rocket up to try and destroy the moon, you know. … This was really an industry effort and one that we carefully organized and orchestrated and it worked.”

In retrospect, CRPA/Bumble Bee’s strategies of promoting from within and creating a large extended family that blurred divisions between management and fishermen worked admirably to further the company’s interests. As one gillnetter put it, “They created a sense of ‘We’re all in this together.’ You maybe didn’t get the best price for your fish, but they were there to take care of you.” Al Bailey, whose father and grandfather fished in the upper river for CRPA and delivered to the Ellsworth facility commented: “They were fair to fishermen. Fishermen needed facilities and they had good facilities, so people would stick with them because the facilities offset any price increase they could get from some cash buyer.”

The loss of the company to the Columbia River must be measured in more than economic impact. The social impact of losing the center of an extended family as well as the organizational ability of a large corporation that advocated on behalf of fishermen and fisheries issues was enormous.