![]() ![]() The binding ice starts to calve and the sea monster’s tentacles unfurl. It is by-catch, not targeted as a commercial species and typically sold for a low price as bait. Wildfish sources octopus from the pot-cod fisheries of Dutch Harbor. block of octopus, shaped by the tote it was frozen in, thaws on the counter. Geoduck and octopus are just unusual and cool and it is fun to work with these interesting creatures.”Ī 50 lb. Ironically, he’s allergic to shellfish and slightly bitter about it. Also, Scaletta can’t eat the geoduck he’s canning. ![]() He is serious about this business, however, and serious about food - although most conversations are punctuated with eruptions of contagious laughter. On his upper arm, a kitty flies an alien spaceship beaming up a pizza slice and a fried chicken drumstick. Scaletta has fluffy dark hair peppered with silver, and an eclectic mix of colorful tattoos that peek out of his chef coat. shelves, and get more value out of them for the fishermen,” says Mathew Scaletta, owner of Wildfish. “One of our missions at Wildfish is to find underutilized resources in Alaska, whether it’s cracked geoducks or octopus bycatch being used as bait, and bring those products to U.S. Wildfish is creating new opportunities for those discarded clams by turning them into award-winning smoked and canned geoduck. They fetch a low price because they will not survive the journey to Asia alive.Įnter Wildfish Cannery, Klawock’s smoking and canning seafood company. This is the full extent of “value-add” that most geoducks see in Alaska. Pay careful attention to the next step, which happens in a flash: Ryan grabs the unbroken geoducks and slaps elastic bands across their intact shells. The net is bulging with the strange mollusks, their ridiculous wrinkled proboscises leaking in all directions. When his purse is full, onboard crew member Ryan Jones hauls the bounty up from the depths. On the surface, the umbilical cord that connects Curtis to lifegiving oxygen uncoils like an exaggerated trachea. “When you get to the point where you can see and feel geoducks that nobody else can because you have been doing it so long, that’s what makes a good diver,” says Curtis. He calls it “fishing by braille.” Below the murky surface, in his underwater space suit, he feels for the presence of craters in the sand, plunges one hand in, grips the unsuspecting bivalve by the neck, and then uses his hose to pressure blast the sand away. These are the conditions, according to Curtis, that divide the seasoned divers from the newbies. The forested islands play peekaboo behind the swell and into the mist. The Alaska Department of Fish and Game manages the state’s small wild geoduck fishery in Sitka, Ketchikan, and Prince of Wales. Geoduck farms in Washington State are a multimillion dollar industry. They can live this way for a century and are found up the coast from Baja California to Southern Alaska. ![]() Their double barreled necks alone can reach four feet in length and stretch skyward till they peek out of the sand like some strange underwater garden. The name geoduck originates from the Nisqually Native American phrase for “dig deep.” These mud-loving mollusks are the largest burrowing bivalves on the planet. ![]() He spits into his mask, rubbing the glass clear before falling gracefully into the drink. That’s where you’ll find them.” Curtis slaps on his fishing costume - a dry suit and layers of fleece - with precision. “The barnacly-broken up- shell sand that when you toss it up, it’ll all settle down. He is patient, careful, and deliberate, which is important when you are weighed down 50 feet in frigid waters. His military roots are apparent in the attention and care he brings to his craft. He is a seasoned geoduck hustler on the Klawock dive scene. Don’t let his soft smile and kind disposition fool you. A growing number of divers and businesses, however, are working to ensure that a portion of wild geoducks and other under-recognized seafoods spend more time in Alaskan hands and mouths. It also means less money and fewer jobs circulating locally through its harvest. This means that geoduck isn’t turned into a product like a fillet or a burger that requires further handling. Very little “value-add” processing happens to geoducks in state. Between 90- 95% of Alaska’s geoducks are exported alive to Asian markets, where, their silky flesh is prized for sushi and other culinary feats. It’s pronounced “gooey-duck” and, while its name and physique aren’t particularly helpful in the marketing department, these bivalves sell. This peculiar mollusk, whose undulating breast meat and brontosaurus neck are too enormous for its shell to contain, has an appearance that could make even Stormy Daniels blush. Get your giggles out now, because the people in this story are pretty serious about geoducks. ![]()
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