March 11, 2021 — In spring 2020, the fishing community of Newport, Oregon, shuttered along with the rest of the country. A coronavirus outbreak at a local Pacific Seafood processing plant left fishermen sitting on docks with no buyers for their Dungeness crabs, while restaurants closed and families found themselves housebound.
That’s when Taunette Dixon and her organization, the Newport Fishermen’s Wives, stepped in. This group quickly mobilized to provide food, supplies, infant formula, pet food, fuel cards, masks, gloves and money for past-due utility payments to fishing families who had been hit by the pandemic.
For 50 years, groups like Dixon’s have formed the behind-the-scenes backbone of their communities, often lobbying on behalf of their husbands, who leave for months at a time to fish.
In fishing towns where fishermen’s spouses stay onshore, fishermen’s wives associations have served as mutual aid groups, social support networks and political agitators. Dixon and her colleagues mend nets, keep books, care for families, fight for or against environmental regulations, navigate byzantine quota systems and act as onshore brokers communicating information to husbands out at sea.
Data about these women is scarce, and there’s not much research quantifying exactly how much work they perform for the industry, but social scientists call their labor an “informal subsidy”. And yet, when policymakers talk about supporting fishermen, women like Dixon are often left out of the conversation. And at a local level, members of these groups say their individual efforts can go unnoticed or taken for granted.