Fisherman, Mediator, and “Research Assistant”
When he was a little boy - and lived in places far from Eastern Finnmark - he wrote in his friend's diary: "When I grow up, I'm going to move to Bugøynes and become a fisherman." What Erling Haugan (53) didn't know then was that he would also become a "research assistant" at Nofima.
The Finnmark fisherman, with his expertise, patience, and strong desire to contribute to development, has not only fulfilled his boyhood dream but has also been involved in countless research projects – in fact, since before Nofima was established in 2008.
“He is absolutely invaluable to have on the team. Erling is the hub for making things work in crab research,” states senior researcher Sten Siikavuopio at Nofima firmly.
Now it’s mostly about what would become the great blessing for the small coastal community in Eastern Finnmark: the king crab.
Although he was born in Oslo in 1970 and grew up in Narvik and Tromsø, Erling Haugan has strong roots in the fascinating village community east by the great sea. It’s to Bugøynes that participants in the research project “Fisheries at 78° North” travel when it comes to how the delicacy can be caught, prepared, and contribute to developing Longyearbyen in Svalbard into a culinary capital.
It Started with Meat
In Bugøynes, Erling Haugan has fixed everything related to food, accommodation, activities, and logistics when the consortium led by Nofima researcher Grete Lorentzen arrives.
The food research institute’s researchers can’t praise their “colleague” enough:
“He delivers what we need before we realize we need it,” Grete Lorentzen states dryly and cheerfully.
It started with meat. When Erling Haugan came to Bugøynes to move in as the fifth generation on the family farm from the 1800s, it was as the head of reindeer meat production at Varanger Vilt.
“And that’s when I first came into contact with Nofima – while it was still called Matforsk in Ås. We wanted to get research knowledge about what possibilities there were for utilizing the residual raw materials in meat production. But research is time-consuming and costly processes. We couldn’t afford to establish an extensive collaboration.”
In 2008, four research institutes were merged into what would become Nofima, and Erling Haugan had transitioned from meat to king crab.
From the Side, a Ten-legged Creature Immigrated and Changed Everything for Bugøynes
The fairy tale that king crab fishing has become for Bugøynes started something like this: In the 80s, the fishing village was on the brink of collapse. The fishing was terrible. The prices likewise. The fish processing plant was closed, and “the whole village” was thrown into unemployment. In addition, both the Varangerfjord and the rest of the coast in Northern Norway were invaded by seals.
“It was a doomsday atmosphere,” the Bugøynes resident states.
In desperation over the lack of care from the greater society and as a loud cry for help, Bugøynes was advertised for sale in the capital’s press. At that time, there were about 300 of them. Was there any community further south that would have them?
But when everything looked darkest, help came from an unexpected source. Literally walking in from the side was a ten-legged creature that turned everything around for Bugøynes.
An invasive species – an intruder, simply put – had crawled from Kamchatka in Russia and invaded the fjords of Finnmark. What first appeared as a biological catastrophe for the fishermen in Finnmark was soon about to turn into one of the most lucrative fisheries in history. Erling Haugan had been involved in establishing, and became the managing director of, Norway King Crab.
“A startup company in live storage and export of live king crab to the world market,” says Erling Haugan.
“And the research?”
“Long story short: The crab invasion called researchers to action on several fronts. I first came into contact with then-director Ørjan Olsvik at Nofima, and was quickly put in touch with crab researcher Sten Siikavuopio.”
It’s a collaboration that is still warm and mutually enjoyable to this day.
Many Questions Arose
Countless are the research projects the fisherman from Bugøynes has participated in. For it was the promise from his childhood friend’s memory book that was now to be fulfilled:
“In the startup period, the workdays became incredibly long. The phone rang constantly. The thought caught up with me more and more often: Why don’t I just become a fisherman – which has been my dream all my life.”
In 2010/2011, he therefore sold his share in Norway King Crab to finally realize his dream of becoming a fisherman.
“I wanted a quieter life, where I could be close to nature and manage my own time,” says Erling Haugan.
Today, he owns one boat 100 percent, and has a 40 percent ownership stake in another, which his buddy Torleif Weigama owns the rest of. Together they operate both boats with their respective quotas.
“Operating alone at sea is too risky for any of us to want it. The collaboration works perfectly,” he states firmly.
However, Erling Haugan had not given himself over to crab fishing for long before questions began to arise: What is the migration pattern of the crab? Where do we find which type of crab? And is it possible to catch only the large male crabs – which give the best return and also contribute best to preserving the stock?
“So then I called Siikavuopio,” smiles the crab fisherman, while checking the temperature in the outdoor cooker and making sure that the evening’s culinary experience for the researchers in the project visiting the village is cooked to perfection.
Certainly Involved in 50 Research Projects
Back to research and crab fishing in collaboration:
Then there was talk about the composition of ingredients in the bait, questions piled up again; is there something that is more tempting for him than for her when it comes to crab? Can the pots used to catch the crab be rebuilt? Can we change the entrance hole so that the large crabs are enticed? Or can we do something with the escape hole, which the small crabs are meant to escape from?
“It just developed more and more, and today I am, and have been, involved in probably around 50 different research projects, which deal with both crab fishing and other operations in coastal fisheries in Eastern Finnmark.”
“Couldn’t you have used your time on income-generating fishing instead of research?”
“As long as what I contribute benefits the industry and can be for the best of the entire coastal population, I’m in,” says Erling Haugan, and reminisces back to the time he had been given new pots for testing and dreaded “like a dog” reporting to Nofima that he hadn’t managed to catch a single crab.
“I felt like I had ruined everything. But I learned a lesson. Because Sten Siikavuopio was just as cheerful, and stated that ‘great, now we know it doesn’t work,'” the crab fisherman remembers.
That trying and failing is a result in itself in research had not occurred to him. But now he knows better. It’s precisely testing out different things and solutions – and sharing the results – that is the very essence of research.
Concerned About Stock Development
For more than ten years, he has conscientiously registered various aspects of the crab population in the Varangerfjord, and reported to the researchers at Nofima. This way, he has gained a good overview of patterns and migrations for himself, as a fisherman. And stock development. The latter is something he’s genuinely concerned about. And as the “folk researcher” he is, he also has his clear perception of what the concerns are due to.
“The management of resources in the sea is politician-controlled and not researcher-controlled. The researchers say one thing, which doesn’t harmonize with what the politicians have promised, and thus the professionally qualified advice is not followed. The crab quotas have been far too large for years. The king crab population has collapsed in Porsanger, in Laksefjord, and in Tana. Thus, everyone comes here to fish crab in the Varangerfjord. The stock is therefore about to collapse here as well,” he states firmly.
“Then the researchers are proved right, and the politicians wrong,” he adds.
Erling Haugan emphasizes, however, that he does not blame any of the fishermen who migrate between the fjords in Finnmark to make a living.
Rich in Knowledge
“What do you get out of contributing to research yourself?”
“I gain knowledge. Knowledge that makes me understand more of what I’m doing myself. Although I have no problem understanding that coastal fishermen are disappointed and angry and that it feels bloody unfair when quotas go down, I’m afraid the researchers are right. We need to look at resource management in a long – almost infinite – perspective. We must manage,” he says with strong emphasis on the last two words.
“Do you get rich from being a ‘folk researcher’?”
“Yes, in knowledge,” he repeats.
“I get paid for what I contribute with and to. I don’t lose money, but I don’t get rich from it either. But it’s not the money that drives me. I get to participate in a lot that for me is super exciting, and I learn something new all the time.”
Senior researcher Sten Siikavuopio at Nofima can attest to the latter.
“Erling is a ‘curious George’ who wants to find out about things. And he wants it to be done sustainably. When line fishing damages the crab, he wants to find out what can be done to avoid it. He collects and registers data – over time and in large quantities. And he has been involved in developing the standards and the forms we report by. This way, we can – through him – continuously take the pulse of the king crab population in the Varangerfjord,” praises the senior researcher.
According to Siikavuopio, his “research assistant” has biological intuition and the ability to reflect.
“He always wants to know why things are the way they are. And he is willing to participate in testing out new ways of thinking and new ways of doing things in traditional fisheries. In this way, Erling is worth his weight in gold. He also knows that research goes slowly. It’s a time-consuming process to collect so much data that you can say something certain about a development trend. In addition, he understands the local communities. He represents the pulse in real life in the coastal community he is part of. He is concerned with taking care of the village, and has also learned a lot about coexistence between fisheries and aquaculture along the coast. Here too, he has a pragmatic attitude,” summarizes the renowned crab researcher at Nofima enthusiastically.
“Erling is the folk researcher. We are indescribably happy to have him on the team. I’m going to hold on to him until I retire myself. That’s for sure,” Sten Siikavuopio states emphatically.
The Mediator
The “researcher” and fisherman also have several irons in the fire. Erling Haugan gives lectures in what he himself too modestly calls “boat English” about crab fishing, about the king crab’s history and blessing for Bugøynes, and about the use of the crab – whether it’s tourists, journalists from home and abroad, or researchers who need local knowledge.
He also gets to teach. For the fisherman, who is a “yes-person” of dimensions, has also been discovered by journalists both at home and abroad. In Germany, he’s almost a celebrity, after several TV documentaries about the popular and delicate crab.
Magnificent nature images of blue sea, white mountains, and the huge crab creatures have, among other things, contributed to more and more tourists finding their way to little Bugøynes.
“As long as saying yes and taking journalists out to sea contributes to positive coverage of the Norwegian fishing industry, and perhaps makes the job of the Seafood Council (which promotes Norwegian seafood abroad. Ed. note) easier, I’ll continue,” says Erling Haugan.
“Do you notice anything of the Law of Jante among ‘your own’?”
“I do have an opinion about everything related to fisheries and management, and I’m never afraid to express it. Then you do get some messages from time to time. But I deal with it well. So the next time someone calls from Nofima and wants me to participate in research projects, the answer is as usual ‘yes’,” he laughs.
