NO PORT IN A STORM?

Byline: Winston Ross The Register-Guard

CHARLESTON - His girlfriend sleeps in the twin-sized bunk a few feet from the steering wheel on which she hangs her coat. Toothbrushes and shaving gel sit above the sink and propane stove where J.D. Evanow does the dishes and cooks. A green tarp covers the window, so the couple can have some privacy at their mooring in the Charleston Marina. With no bathroom on board, they trudge up to the port-owned facilities in the parking lot to shower.

When the Oregon International Port of Coos Bay threatened to impound Evanow's 40-foot fishing boat, the Sea Crest, it wasn't just the salmon troller's livelihood at stake.

It was his home.

"I've been living on my boat about three years," Evanow says. `It just got to the point where we couldn't afford to pay for both (a house and boat).'

First came steep restrictions in the trawl fishery, when the federal government shut down huge swaths of ocean to groundfishing. Then, a disaster for the salmon fleet: Poor returns on the Klamath River prompted federal fishery managers to slice 80 percent off the season in 2006.

Before long, Evanow was behind $2,850 in moorage dues to the Port of Charleston, which is owned by the Coos Bay port. And he was only one of a dozen or more fishermen who got strongly worded letters from port officials reminding them that they were at least 90 days past due and faced seizure of their vessels if they didn't at least work out some kind of payment plan.

It was standard procedure, explained the Coos Bay port's marketing director, Martin Callery. Ports sometimes seize boats, just as banks foreclose on houses.

But this time, something was different. Charleston Harbormaster Don Yost refused to put impound stickers on the vessels in trouble, then quit his job to make himself clear. The move ignited a controversy in this tiny fishing village, and Yost's story became folklore, The Hero Who Fell on His Sword to Save the Fleet.

"I've got a lot of respect for the man," Evanow said. `He said, `No. Absolutely not.' '

Callery said there is a misunderstanding. Only two boats have been impounded, he said. One had been sitting in a shipyard having repairs done without paying the charges or the moorage. Another - not a salmon boat - had been paying month-to-month moorage fees before the owner decided to switch to an annual lease, which would save him about 50 percent in dues over time.

"Unfortunately, he never made any payments," Callery said.

Upset fishermen, however, say the only reason more boats haven't been impounded is because Yost took a stand. The resulting attention put enough pressure on the port to back off and start cutting deals, Charleston troller Jeff Reeves said.

"The Port of Coos Bay is a state agency, and they were locking people out of their homes," Reeves said.

The worst part was the timing, he added. Salmon trollers don't make money in winter because the season runs from spring to fall. Evanow and his girlfriend have been working at a local processor for $8 an hour to buy food, but it's not enough money to make a dent on a $2,850 past-due bill.

When last year's salmon disaster struck, the port implemented a moorage deferral program, allowing 45 boat owners to hold off on payments without being charged interest. But fishermen weren't eligible unless they were current on their payments. Because the 2005 salmon season also was severely restricted, many trollers weren't current and couldn't enroll.

By January 2007, 23 of 41 who were in the deferral program had paid off their moorage fees in full, three were making payments and 15 hadn't coughed up a red cent, Callery said. This year's Klamath run looks to be improved, and the fleet may be able to make a decent living, fishermen say. But not without boats.

Now, fishermen are circulating a petition demanding that Yost be reinstated, a request the port can't really act upon because the harbormaster wasn't fired. Yost didn't return telephone calls from The Register-Guard this week, and no one can say for sure if he's even interested in coming back.

Meanwhile, a clear rift has developed between port officials and fishermen, some of whom grumble that they're not wanted in Charleston anymore. Callery says that's not true, noting that the purpose of the deferral program was to keep the fleet afloat, and that the first priority in Charleston is commercial fishing, evidenced by the port's efforts to prop up the local ice plant after it shut down for lack of a profit last year.

"Charleston's whole identity is built around the fishing village concept," Callery said. "People come here to see commercial fishermen in their own environment. If you look at the investments we've made in the shipyard, 90 percent of them are in support of the fishing fleet. ... We're doing what we have to do to keep our entity viable."

To keep his home, J.D. Evanow asked a friend to pay off his moorage debt with a low-interest credit card. Evanow isn't sure how he'll find the money for that loan.

"I don't know what we would have done" if the port had seized the Sea Crest, said Evanow's girlfriend, Dena Thom. "This is all we've got."