Jake Billiot was a shrimper until his livelihood was canceled by oil contamination in the waters. He signed on to work for BP putting out oil booms as he awaits an uncertain future.
Julie Dermansky-for The Washington Post
Grace Welch, part of the Pointe-au Chien Indian tribe, collects crabs from her traps on the water.
Julie Dermansky
The last blue crabs of the season are caught in Bayou Pointe-au-Chien, where crab and shrimp season were officially closed on May 29, due to the oil spill that is making its way into nearby lakes and bayous.
Julie Dermansky
Josh Bergeron, Grace Welch, center, and Tracie Verdin cool their heels during a rain delay. They have temporary contract work laying oil boom, something the tribal chief has urged members to do.
Julie Dermansky-for The Washington Post
A tribal boat helps with the laying of booms to protect marshland from encroaching oil.
Julie Dermansky-for The Washington Post
Josh Bergeron and Grace Welch at her home in Pointe-aux-Chenes, La. "They come in and take our land. Now, the oil's taking over," Welch, 26, said. "It's like it's happening all over" again.
Julie Dermansky-for The Washington Post
Mandy Verdin has emphysema so cannot take on BP cleanup work. The area's fishing industry halted after the Deepwater Horizon explosion 100 miles away in the gulf.
Julie Dermansky-for The Washington Post
Lifelong shrimper Raymond Verdin is deaf so unable to take on a BP contract. He has no livelihood at the moment.
Julie Dermansky-for The Washington Post
Grace Welch, with nephew Dustin Bardo and niece Haley Verdin, checks online for news on the oil spill.
Julie Dermansky-for The Washington Post
Chief Charles "Chuckie" Verdin, 53, remembers the news of BP giving up its work to kill the leaking well: "Going through my head [was], 'This is going to get a lot worse.' "
Julie Dermansky-for The Washington Post
A Christ statue stands at the end of the boat launch in Pointe-aux-Chenes, an area that has been hard-hit by a series of recent hurricanes.
Julie Dermansky-for The Washington Post
The tribe's official name is from the French for "Dog Point." But others say the proper name is the more genteel Pointe-aux-Chenes, "Point of Oaks" -- which is how the town is known.
Julie Dermansky-for The Washington Post
Tracie Verdin helps cousin Grace Welch bring in her boat after a day laying oil boom.
Julie Dermansky-for The Washington Post
Sydney Verdin, with niece Bambi Bardo, was a shrimper until 2003, when he had a stroke. He is urging BP to pay for booms to protect his ancestral graveyard on the bayou.
Julie Dermansky-for The Washington Post
Tracie Verdin has been a shrimper since she was 2. It's a way of life for most of the families in Pointe-aux-Chenes.
Julie Dermansky-for The Washington Post
Faith Verdin says she worries that she'll never be able to eat seafood again.
Julie Dermansky-for The Washington Post
"Whatever you can get, get it now," the chief has told his tribe members who are hesitant to take on work with BP.
Julie Dermansky-for The Washington Post
Gallery Credits:
Text Editor Doris N. Truong