The slow sinking of the F/V Jack Cotant

The 45-foot F/V Jack Cotant has nearly crossed over into the past tense. It still exists, it still floats, but it isn’t hard to imagine its time is over—especially as a classroom.

Hundreds of students learned how to navigate, dock and even commercial fish on the Jack Cotant as part of Ketchikan High School’s maritime program. Now, it sits unused. The paint is fading and worn, edges around the windows are collecting the green hue of moss and the guts are nearing disrepair because maintenance is complex and expensive. But it’s not just an old, neglected boat, it’s emblematic of something bordering on tragedy.

Since the 1960s a Ketchikan Gateway Borough-owned vessel has been used to teach students navigation, maintenance, marine systems, emergency drills and more. Named after the first maritime instructor at Ketchikan High School, the Jack Cotant was designed and built specifically for educational purposes by the Ketchikan Gateway Borough for the Ketchikan Gateway Borough School District to usher in a new age of maritime in the early 1980s. 

The Jack Cotant became a symbol of everything that was right about educational funding. It was not a symbol of wasteful spending or trickle down funding that never meaningfully makes its way to the classroom. It wasn’t bloat, redundant or frivolous. It was a quality measure of education, a measure that meant more to students and parents than a standardized test score. It wasn’t an alternative to traditional education, it was the type of thing you’d expect from a public school serving students in Alaska.

At its peak, the maritime program offered two sections, one was a two-hour block so students were able to get to the boat with the instructor for a worthwhile amount of time. The district even owned a small IFQ halibut quota (less than 100 pounds) so students were allowed to see, and participate in, the entirety of the commercial fishing process.

Maritime teachers took students on navigation trips or “nav trips” of up to three days where students would navigate the waters of Misty Fjords National Monument or other areas near Ketchikan. There were joint trips with marine biology classes and the vessel was used often by the University of Alaska Southeast-Ketchikan. 

A Marine Robotics team from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology even used it for underwater glider tests in 2012. 

But the boat deteriorated with age. Well before funding for education stagnated statewide in 2017, it became increasingly difficult to fund core education in addition to vocational subjects such as maritime. In the case of the Jack Cotant, those invaluable experiences on the vessel cost money, and so did required maintenance on the aging vessel. Teachers often spend money on supplies, but paying out of pocket to keep a boat running is substantially different than buying a new set of dry erase markers.

By the time students returned to school full time after Covid, the neglect had made navigation trips unsafe.

After the last maritime teacher retired in 2022, the school district offered one period of maritime during the ‘22-23 school year. Further reshuffling of staff thanks to the budget crisis prevented the course from being offered in the fall of ‘24-25.

Note: The class is being revived with a long-term substitute position for the spring semester of this year since Kayhi lost five sections of auto shop and small engines. Whether or not maritime will be offered next fall and auto shop classes will be restored is uncertain.

No more blank checks

The financial boom of the early 1980s allowed school districts in Alaska to attract young, enthusiastic teachers to create robust educational programs. But as oil production waned and prices dropped, districts struggled to maintain the educational experience. Quality education is not just a matter of offering courses, qualified teachers are needed to add value to the experience. 

The initial recruitment effort put a premium on benefit packages to attract and retain teachers. When my family arrived in 1986, Klawock and Craig school districts were filled with families from the Lower 48. My high school English teacher (one for all four years) was from Montana, history and math both from Colorado, PE from Kansas, shop from Michigan. All arrived in the 1980s or early 90s and were there long after I graduated in 1999.  

But the money and benefits no longer balance out the harsh climates or quality of life for many educators. As a result, the teaching shortage has hammered Alaska and rural schools see a punishing lack of long-term commitment on the part of teachers who aren’t convinced living in the bush is a viable long-term plan. It’s too expensive to live off one salary, difficult to find and afford a home and rarely is there daycare for young families. It is simply not worth it for many people to leave their current careers for less pay and benefits in remote parts of Alaska.

Even the larger cities are suffering increased class sizes, building consolidation, school closures, reduced course offerings and teacher turnover. In some cases, part time jobs are offered but the logistics and pay are so unappealing the positions go unfilled and the programs die.

Funding

Alaska’s state legislature created the Alaska Permanent Fund in 1976 to ensure long term stability despite being dependent on an non-renewable resource—oil. The first deposit into the fund was for $734,000 made in 1977. Since then the fund has grown to nearly $80 billion and is split into two accounts. Only the earnings fund is available for spending which preserves a substantial balance for meaningful returns.

Revenue from investments in the fund make up around 55% of the state’s total, but oil production is down and the outlook is dark. Fund diversification has enabled the fund to grow, but spending has outpaced revenue. Since 2017, a portion of the Permanent Fund Dividend checks has been withheld from residents—described as a de facto income tax by some, theft by others—yet the state is still in dire financial straits. Residents and lawmakers who are against increasing funding for education cite a lack of financial discipline and accountability on the part of the state, districts and school sites as the key problem that must be addressed before more money is allocated.

Funding for education comes from a Base Student Allocation (BSA) which has only increased by $30 per student since 2017. As the cost of education has increased, the lack of funding has eroded unique educational opportunities and threatens basic function.

Base Student Allocation:
2010 - $5,580
2017 - $5,930
2024 - $5,960

In February of 2024, the state legislature passed a $680 permanent increase to the BSA, 56-3. It was vetoed by Governor Dunleavy in March. The vote to override the veto then failed 39-20 as supporters of the permanent increase switched their vote. 

In the wake of inflation and stagnant funding, arguing who should have a job and who shouldn’t is a grim business. The result is distrust and anger between parents, teachers, site administration, district administration and employees at the state department of education. Not to mention the state legislature and governor. 

For many, funding education means providing unique and relevant educational opportunities for students taught by experts and managed by administrative leaders. The cynical interpretation views educational funding as a euphemism for failing a classroom education, bloated administrative bodies and wasteful programs.

The idea of wasteful funding and excess is most noticeable at the college level where universities across the country have taken the narrative that higher education is the only way to succeed as an excuse to cripple families with student loans while housing costs rise and wages fail to keep pace. Colleges and universities get their tuition checks whether the student later drowns in debt or not so they continue to raise tuition.

Previously, whenever someone from the University of Arizona (my alma mater) called for donations, I ignored the call. Now, I am incredulous. The university was running a $177 million deficit under former president Robert Robbins.

According to the Arizona Daily Star:

[Robert] Robbins stepped down as UA president on Sept. 30 amid what he called a financial crisis, as the UA dealt with a projected $177 million deficit last fiscal year. The deficit led to hiring and compensation freezes and the elimination of 328 positions from the workforce paid by unrestricted funds, including 13 vice presidents and 42 full-time faculty members.

Though the university eliminated 13 vice president positions, the UA spent more on administration. Sure, I am a proud alumnus, but I’m supposed to consider a donation to the school that has already doubled tuition since I graduated and eliminated admin positions but ended up spending more? Do I really trust the money will go where it needs to go?

High school districts across the nation are being asked the same question. 

Meeting needs

The goal of high school should be to prepare students for adulthood and put them on some sort of career path, not just obtain a diploma. But that doesn’t mean districts, site administrators, teachers and paraprofessionals should just figure out how to make more with less. It’s a matter of strategic, logical investments. It’s about providing opportunities for students led by staff who bring optimism and energy to their jobs. That’s how stronger connections are made and how students, regardless of their state testing scores or GPA, can find dignity and purpose in a career.

Alaska produces 60-percent of America’s seafood and the charter fishing industry has exploded in recent years thanks to terminal runs of salmon to supplement natural runs. Vigor has a state-of-the-art ship building and repair facility in Ketchikan which has provided good careers for many local graduates. Dozens of students who took the maritime class are enjoying careers in the industry, working on the Alaska Marine Highway or other maritime careers.

But anyone who follows education knows that Career and Technical Education (CTE) and non-college track programs are the first to go when cuts are made, meaning students who want to pursue careers in the trades are impacted the most.

As the debate surrounding educational funding and philosophies continues, something has to give, though few are willing to compromise. No one has escaped insult and blame. The discourse (especially on social media) is a festering pool of partisanship and ideology from which few inspiring leaders emerge. Maybe that is the most frustrating element. There is more blame than solutions, more people looking for excuses and alibis than inviting discussion for meaningful fixes.

A truly meaningful education necessitates trust, funding, accountability, responsibility, opportunity and professionalism.

In the meantime the F/V Jack Cotant rots. A symbol of the change in Alaska’s financial landscape and educational reality. A relic from the boom days when education was limited by imagination not funding.