Dispatches

By NATALIE PHILLIPS/IN ANCHORAGE

The vast schools of herring that normally return to Alaska's Prince William Sound this time of year didn't show up. Nor did they return last spring. Here's what's showing up in their stead: dozens and dozens of attorneys, paralegals, secretaries, biologists, economists and officials of the Exxon Corp. They are settling in for the summer to write the final chapter in the story of the nation's largest oil spill, which began in 1989 when the Exxon Valdez spilled more than 11 million gal. of inky black crude into the pristine Prince William Sound.

What is known in Anchorage as "the little people's trial" will begin this week in federal court. Back in the fall of 1991, the state and federal governments settled their lawsuits against Exxon for $1 billion. But 12,000 fishermen, deckhands, business owners, landowners and Alaska natives who claim to have suffered from the spill are hoping a jury will hand them an additional $15 billion from the company's till.

A verdict is months away. But already the trial is having its effect on the local economy: the city's rental-apartment and office-space markets have been saturated by battalions of lawyers and experts. And many other Anchorage businesspeople -- restaurateurs, hoteliers, copy-shop owners -- are looking forward to the ripple effect of a world-class trial.

It's not as much of a win-win situation 150 miles away in the town of Cordova, a tight-knit community on Prince William Sound of some 2,000 fishermen, artists and Eyak natives. "There may be a miniboom in Anchorage, but there is a major bust still going on in Cordova," says Torie Baker, a board member of the Cordova District Fishermen United. This year, for the second spring in a row, the town's 900 fishermen set out for herring and came / up empty; normally they would haul a catch worth somewhere around $10 million. Yes, a smattering of herring did manage to make it to the sound, up from their winter home in the Gulf of Alaska, but they were covered with sores and swam erratically. Worse, the area's pink salmon are also vanishing, leaving many fishermen on the brink of bankruptcy.

Not surprisingly, Exxon officials are quick to point to the abundant herring harvests the first few springs after the accident; they say there is no link between the five-year-old spill and what is happening now. Not surprisingly, this is not a popular position in Cordova. The culprit, most fishermen readily agree, is the 11 million gal. of oil. "It's a gut-level thing," says Baker. "Yes, there is an effect out there ((from the spill)). The thing that is so telling is that everywhere else in Alaska, there are major runs on fish this spring." And so to court. The fishermen have pinned their hopes for economic survival on the outcome of their lawsuit against Exxon, even though they acknowledge that the proceeds from a winning verdict could be tangled up in appeals for years.

"This is on everybody's lips," says Cordova mayor Margy Johnson. "Everyone's looking for a sense of closure. It's like there was a death in the family and we're waiting for the will to be read." It's apt to be a long sitting.