My experience with the Pearling industry started at sea and ended on an active pearl farm in the Kimberley region of Western Australia. At the beginning of 2015 I was in Perth after working on the fringe festival for a month. I was trying to decide what to do next, having just concluded not to renew my contract in Arnhemland, NT. Searching the Internet for something adventurous and out of the ordinary, I saw a job advertised as a cook on a pearling vessel. Ever since becoming a chef and perhaps even before that I have dreamt of working at sea. I always saw it as a super yacht or something flash but this was something completely different. I had no idea what “pearling” even entailed. The thought of joining a bunch of pirates on a working ship was enthralling. I passed the phone interview and down to last my last pennies, used my nearly maxed out credit card to book a one-way ticket to Darwin. It was a total gamble, as I was uncertain if I would pass the rigorous medical, drug and alcohol test before I would be signed on. If I failed that I would have been stuck in Darwin with no job and no money. As it turned out, I got the green light and was signed on to work on a gorgeous thirty three-metre sea goddess called the Nalena Bay.
By far the sharpest ship in the fleet, the Nalena Bay held eight or nine pearl divers, two deck hands, two dump boat divers, one engineer, one cook, one domestic and the skipper. Her three decks consisted of the divers quarters on the lower deck below the water mark where most of the crew shared cabins, the engineers quarters, galley, food storage and work deck in the middle. The Skipper’s, dump crew and cook’s cabin along with a tv room were on the top deck. My galley had an adequate kitchen and the walk in chillers and freezer were far beyond my expectations. We could carry a huge amount of frozen stock and while the majority of the chiller was filled with fresh produce, a couple of shelves were kept free for the beer. The rules of the boat were mid strength only and no drinking when steaming. At the end of the day the divers and crew would sit around the back deck under florescent lights to drink, smoke and shoot the breeze before turning in for the night.
These boys work hard for their money and it was my job to keep them gassed up. They do nine fifty minute dives per day to a maximum depth of thirty metres with rapid descents, slow ascents and a break of no more than 20 mins between dives. When they hit the bottom they are carrying a netted sack around their necks, which is filled as they dive and a bigger net hooked to a line to fill with their collected shell. The drogue* floats out the back to create drag and control the boats speed against the tide as the divers are pulled along the bottom of the ocean by long ropes weighed down with massive sinker weights. They are not attached to the rope but use it as a guide down their “line” which is the position they are designated along the booms hanging out the side of the boat. Using entirely their strength and endurance they swim and pull themselves down their line venturing off as needed, in search of the precious oyster shells required by the farms to produce cultured pearls. After they surface from a dive these pirates of the deep pull off their masks and still in their wetsuits, join the rest of the crew at the chipping table to clean their catch of barnacles and impurities. The shell is then loaded into panels and sent via the dump boat out to lines suspended in the ocean by buoys to await collection later and be taken to the farms. Every second dive after the divers have completed their clean they have five to ten minutes to inhale a substantial feed that I would prepare before donning their stinger masks and queuing up to head back to the ocean floor.
We would spend anything from 7-10 days a time at sea, fishing on the neap tides* and spending our springs* back in the town of Broome where we would stay in backpackers or hotels and spend our bounty on all manors of debauchery. Time off was dedicated to lounging about on the pristine Cable Beach for days at a time, watching camels stroll by, the tide rise and fall and evening bonfires soaked in wine and rum. Sail day would see a gang of men and our female domestic, normally hungover and sometimes straight from a hard night partying without sleep arrive at the yard ready to take the short ride out to the storm moorings to board our ship and head back to sea.
Our first journey was from the Paspaley* shipyard in Darwin to Broome around the entirety of the Kimberly, a region where the water temperature is often warmer than the air at around 30 degrees. We cruised the coast past crumbling cliffs of red rock and steamed through the huge archipelago of brilliant green-blues and reds. The skies were by far the most magical I have ever seen. Stars from horizon to horizon, Sunrises and sunsets with every shade of red, gold and purple, and at one point we spent nearly the whole night sailing through an electrical storm. I was out the back of the boat hanging on to ropes and rails with one hand as it pitched and rolled while trying to take photos with the other. Waves ploughing over the deck and sweeping off the side while 360 degrees around us huge bolts of forked lightening were blasting into the ocean. For me it was Mecca. My first real storm at sea! I felt like some adventurer from tales pioneering new lands! The rest of the crew were really not that interested. Most being veterans from years at sea, this was nothing new to them and they were for the most part hanging about the galley chatting or catching some sleep in their cabins below deck.
Another aspect that I thoroughly enjoyed was the interaction with ocean wild life I got to experience. When moored in Roebuck Bay, Broome, we would have scores of Snubfin Dolphin swimming around the boat. It has recently been discovered that the Snubfin Dolphin are entirely unique to that particular bay in Broome. The Roebuck Bay Working Group is a scientific research group that continues to produce information and monitor the species. If the ships lights were left on when we were anchored at sea it would attract all manor of sea creatures from fish to squid, sharks and dolphins. Often there would be dozens if not hundreds of dolphins swimming and playing around the ship. They would play catch with other fish, spitting them high into the air and catching them, jump high out of the water, doing flips and chasing each other around the boat. You would also see the mature dolphins teaching and playing with their young as tiny baby dolphins followed their parents about. The divers sleeping below deck would complain of the chatter they would make, as it would sometimes keep them from sleeping. I would sit out under the stars for hours watching them, being swept away in their innocent playfulness. I truly felt so close to nature in these times and now as I type this in my chalet in the snow-covered mountains my heart yearns for the ocean. As our ship sailed we would often pick up hitchhikers as tired sea birds and land birds that had lost their way would come to rest. There was one particular species of bird called the Storm Petrel that would litter our work decks as they sought shelter in the night. I would be up early and often use a towel to pick up two or three and take them to the fly bridge where they wouldn’t be in the way of the crew as they prepared for their first dives.
The ocean also presents a very real danger to those seeking wealth from her. The diving season starts just after the wet season has finished and there are Irukandji*(sp?) and Box Jellyfish in the water. Although precautions are taken with stinger suits and special masks there would always be some that get through and during my time there were in excess of dozen stings across the fleet. We had two on our boat with one of our crew being stung so badly that he was put on oxygen and morphine and was on watch from the skipper until the toxins wore off. I remember going to check on him and seeing him in excruciating pain rocking back and forth, tears streaming out of his eyes and running down the oxy mask. The Irukandji sting is said to give the victim the sense of impending doom and our diver told me after that he thought he was going to die. Scary stuff! Tiger sharks would be regularly spotted hanging around the divers. Our Head Diver was once startled when one snuck up on him. He turned and without thinking, punched it in the nose giving it a shock and sending it on its way. Also I just missed out on the whale season where the divers would be at risk from curious hump back whales interfering with their work. I heard stories after I left of the whales coming in too close, tangling and ripping out the oxygen lines of the divers who would then have to activate their bail out tank, a small tank clipped to their kit for emergencies only.
As a chef I was spoilt with ingredients. There seemed to be an unlimited budget at my disposal and the boys got what ever they wanted. I would order in lamb racks, beef eye fillet, smoked salmon, croissants and about twenty different ice creams, to say the least. The divers would often haul up seafood from the bottom such as painted crayfish* and other shellfish. Our dump boat diver, a guy named Squid, was a sniper with the spear gun and would keep me well stocked with fresh Tuna, Spanish mackerel and Coral trout. Sashimi* and Ceviche* were a daily smoko*. Nothing was wasted as the crew ate for a battalion, burning it off under water as they worked. My day would start at five am by preparing breakfast and I would be lucky to get a couple of hours break through out the day until I finished my shift at about eight pm. For an hour each afternoon, weather permitting, I would take myself up to the fly bridge and roll out my yoga mat for a half hour of stretching followed by another half hour sitting in my hammock reading in the sun. It was a good life.
My experience with Paspaley is without a doubt one the highlights of my life and has increased my appreciation and respect for the ocean and its inhabitants. Working at sea is definitely not for the faint hearted. You need to be strong minded and ready to work every waking hour. However the camaraderie, adventure and financial benefits are more than compensation. I would do it again in a heartbeat and often regretted leaving the boat. After four months working and living aboard the Nalena Bay I chose to leave and heed the call of a friend in need. Coincidently my friend was working on an active pearl farm in Cape Leveque called Cygnet Bay, and was in serious need of a head chef. Thus began my second chapter within the pearling industry...
*Neap tide- a tide that occurs when the difference between high and low tide is least. Neap tide comes twice a month, in the first and third quarters of the moon.
*Spring tide- A tide that occurs when the difference between high and low tide is greatest. Spring tides come twice a month, approximately at the full and new moon.
*Drogue- a drogue is usually constructed to provide substantial resistance when dragged through the water, and is trailed behind the vessel.
*Paspaley– the largest and oldest Pearling Company in Australia
*Irukandji- are the smallest and most venomous box jellyfish in the world
*Painted Crayfish - are a large edible spiny lobster
*Sashimi- a Japanese delicacy of fresh, raw fish sliced into thin pieces.
*Ceviche- is a seafood dish popular in the coastal regions of Latin America. The dish is typically made from fresh raw fish cured in citrus juices
*Smoko- A short break for a bite to eat and/or coffee. Often accompanied by a cigarette.
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