Real Men, Real Danger, Real Reality

Captain Sig Hansen, taking a break from the rigors of the Bering Sea, dropped in on "The Martha Stewart Show" on Friday to discuss Alaskan king crab, being an industrial fisherman, and, of course, "Deadliest Catch," the hit reality series on the Discovery Channel on which Mr. Hansen is one of the stars. With him was his little brother, Edgar Hansen, and Ms. Stewart asked the latter what he absolutely had to have with him onboard before setting sail for another perilous season of crab fishing. "Coffee, cigarettes, and chocolate" was the answer, which is probably exactly what a GI would have told her if she'd asked a similar question on the eve of a battle in 1944. But this is 2008.

"Cigarettes?" Ms. Stewart asked, somewhere between disapproval and bemusement.

"Well, sorry, we're three-pack-a-day guys," the younger Mr. Hansen replied, not looking particularly sorry at all, and perhaps even sheepishly defiant.

Had Stewart been familiar with page 834 of James Merrill's "Collected Poems," she might have scolded this young whippersnapper by bursting out:

Three packs a day
Simply won't do.
I mean to say,
Three-packs-a-day
Is both outré
And bad for you.
Three packs a day
Simply won't do.

But of course she didn't, and daytime television is unquestionably the poorer for it.

Nonetheless, the cigarette habit is worth highlighting as one in a long list of things which may explain why a seemingly repetitive show, about guys in yellow slickers hauling giant "pots" (cages, really) full of alien-looking crabs out of a sea as black as outer space for weeks on end, has reached extraordinary heights of popularity.

Far from the hair gel, mincing judges, and blabbermouth narcissism of the usual run of reality programs, and (let's face it) far from women, too, the show revels in a certain kind of macho freedom.

There's more to it than that, however. At its best, "Deadliest Catch," now in its fourth season (the third episode airs tonight), is compulsively watchable precisely because it reduces existence to a handful of elements. Master those and you're good to go. These would include proving yourself to the crew when you're new on the job (the "greenhorn"); shrugging off danger and fatigue; working in freezing gales and mountainous seas; hauling up those crabs, and celebrating raucously when you do.

A full pot, as in poker, means raking in big bucks, only here the winnings are shared by all. A pot full of wriggling crabs is literally the show's money shot, and the producers are only too happy to show it to us over and over again. Like the recurrent views of a radar screen displaying the positions of the boats as they fan out from Dutch Harbor, Alaska, it's a rhythmic device that works brilliantly.

Then there's the narration of Mike Rowe, Discovery's ubiquitous voice-over artist and star of "Dirty Jobs." It's hokey but enjoyably rich in evocations of the perils of the Bering Sea and the bravery of the men. We lap it up because, among other things, "Deadliest Catch" and a growing number of shows like it ("Ax Men," "Ice Road Truckers") prove that reality television's reach is now so extensive that it brings to our attention, rather like those spiky crabs hauled from the depths, not just the rabid attention-seekers, but those who never asked to be paid any attention at all. Even if fame may be turning their heads a little bit, it's hard not to applaud the fact that people doing a job this dangerous are being celebrated, too.

In keeping with Mr. Rowe's narration, the show is steeped in respect for tradition. Nepotism is considered favorably, even if the captain's sons are treated like other greenhorns on deck. Mother Nature, who seems to be in a continuously bad mood, is given all the respect she could ask for. There's also religion. This season's opening episode featured the blessing of the fleet, radioed in from shore as the boats waited to leave, and the men appeared understandably spooked when the transmission went dead halfway through. But then, like most sailors, they are much more in thrall to religion's fetishistic cousin, superstition, than anything church-related.

"Deadliest Catch" is billed as a documentary series, but it's reality TV at heart, and inevitably the question of how true to life it is occasionally enters the picture. Despite a minor controversy about the editing of a rogue wave in last Tuesday's opener, there's no doubt that one of the show's selling points is how brilliantly the cameramen, courageous souls themselves, capture the mechanics of fishing, the giant waves and relentless winds, and the eeriness of a ship slowly being trapped in ice. But with everyone onboard wearing a cordless microphone, and cameras everywhere, the temptation to perform and dramatize must be overwhelming. Would the captains be quite so talkative if no one were watching? Would the deckhands whoop and holler so much over every full pot? Or would they keep their heads down and quietly get through "just another day on the Bering Sea"?

There was an oddly jarring moment in the second episode when Keith Colburn, captain of the Wizard, discussed the disappointing performance of one of the greenhorns. "Right now, Moi's frustrated. He came out here expecting to step on deck and be a superstar. That's not reality. Reality is you come out here and start busting your ass."

It was a bit hard to decide precisely what form of reality the captain was talking about. Did he mean Moi was expecting to be looked on as an instant "superstar" by his fellow deckhands? Or was he looking ahead to the moment when the scene would be aired? Either way, Moi might not have been a superstar, but he was certainly getting his 15 minutes of fame.

bbernhard@nysun.com