The Deadliest Catch, the Manliest Reality TV You Can Watch

Today’s Mad Betty post is written by guest blogger Carlos Gieseken, an Austin writer and runner. Carlos authors Project 18:24, a chronicle of his road to fitness and completing a 5k in 18 minutes and 24 seconds. Enjoy his manly take on The Deadliest Catch. Today I’ll be blogging over at Project 18:24. Click here to read it, and check out Carlos’ progress!

Gone are the days when there was no need for a so called “man card.” Life consisted of hunting for food on foot, stealing women from neighboring villages and carving tools with your bare hands. Manliness was the default setting and you didn’t keep track of it like you do wraps eaten at the Pita Pit. But in today’s world of DVRs, fantasy baseball and after work kick ball leagues, there’s at least one place an armchair man can take in some hardcore manliness: Discovery Channel’s Deadliest Catch.

This weekly reality show focusing on Alaskan king crab fisherman is a frequent reminder of how unmanly my cubicle-centric life really is. That is, if you define “hardcore manliness” by the threat of dying, losing a limb, frostbite or breaking your back for 22 hours a day.

The whole time a guy watches a show like this he thinks, Yeah, I can do this. I mean, how hard can it be? These fisherman don’t exactly look like Navy SEALS. Most look like the type of guy you’d see in the sporting goods section of Wal-Mart or dipping into mashed potatoes at the Golden Corral. Middle aged. A little overweight. Not too bright. Others look like they just got out of prison.

But then you watch another episode, where you learn that the crew has hauled pots for 36 of the last 40 hours. Or a large metal hooks snaps loose and slams into a crewman’s face, breaking his nose. Or this happens:

And that’s when you start to think to yourself, Hell no.

I’ve been watching a lot of Deadliest Catch lately and I think this constant display of manly behavior makes it so addicting, considering every episode of every season is the exact same thing.

There’s the getting ready of the pots. Cue the large wave that takes out a few of the deckhands. OK, the pot is ready. Watch it slide into the ocean. Cue the captain in the wheel house, wearing a tee-shirt, sweatpants and slippers, on the intercom telling the crew to be careful and hurry up.

OK, thanks to crafty editing, it’s time to haul up the pot. Someone gets to throw the hook that grabs the rope and that job looks fun as hell. Women don’t know this, but dudes just want to throw around some hooks.

Bam! Pay dirt. Tons of crab, life is awesome, everyone’s happy sorting. Cue the theme song to Rocky. Or Doh! No crab. Life is over. Rinse and repeat a few dozen times and that’s your typical episode.

I think it would be nice to work on one of those boats because you wouldn’t have to worry about something as annoying as showering or deodorant. Anyone who’s ever been to an all-boys school (I haven’t) or had a male dominated job (I have) will tell you: In the absence of females, dudes will step down a few rungs on the evolutionary ladder when it comes to personal hygiene. I can’t imagine the crew quarters of those boats are any different.