Day 35 - Naknek, AK

June 8^th

            Unshowered, unshaven, erratic sleep pattern, and back in another dry dock. Naknek is empty for most of the year, until salmon season approaches. The town becomes a hive of activity as the fishermen prepare their vessels to fend off the wave of sockeye that rushes in when the weather warms. The temperature is still in the 40s during the day and low 30s at night – much too cold for the fish to run. It’s a late year… now we switch our gear from halibut to salmon, and wait, poised, prepared to pounce. 

Day 34 - False Pass

June 7^th

            Being on the boat is all about thinking ahead… not very far, just enough. Everything we’ve brought is packed, and to do anything takes preparation. For instance, if we wanted to cook a meal, we would have to take the frozen meat out so it could thaw at least the night before. So we’re already thinking about what we’re going to have for dinner tomorrow night and getting it ready. This is different for me. I’ve always eaten when I was hungry. Lived moments as they came. I try not to plan anything too concrete because I know my plans may change. That’s not the way things work on the boat and I have to adapt to this lifestyle. It’s taking a little time, but I’m getting better at it.

            We reached our passage into the Bearing Sea. A shallow rip current only passable at high tide called False Pass. It sucked us through with the tide and shot us out into what felt like the other side of the world. The upper side of the Aleutian chain is very different than the lower side. The volcanic chain along the ring of fire is a result of the Pacific plate being pushed under the North American plate. The ocean on the southern side of the Aleutians is very deep with mountains that guard the coast. The northern side of the Aleutians is shallow and flat. Most of the landscape is marsh and grassland that stretch far out into the ocean. Even the water seems different. I watched the sun set on the Bearing Sea for the first time – as the color in the sky mixed with the bloated ripple of the water, I felt as though I had been holding my breath my entire life to emerge into a Monet painting. 

Day 33 - Sand Point

June 6^th

            Sand Point is a small town on the way down the Aleutian chain. It was one of our refueling stops.

            The storm had passed. I stood on the flying bridge (the top of the boat), with the wind weaving through my hair. For a moment I closed my eyes, I remembered why I liked being on the ocean. The sensation of wind through my hair represents moving, changing, traveling to a new and exciting place I haven’t seen yet. It also feels really good. 

Day 32 - The Storm

June 5^th

            My next wheel watch was not as relaxing as my first had been. Not more than fifteen minutes after I had taken the wheel, a wind picked up as we passed a valley on the mainland. Quickly the waves were as tall as the bridge (where I was steering). The boat bobbed and dove on wave after wave. I was taking green water over the bow. The front windows started to leak. I winced every time the bow of our boat dipped into another wave. I realized a 32-foot boat isn’t very big compared to the power of the ocean.

            Dave woke as he levitated out of bed on one of our plummets down the face of one wave only to be thrust back into bed violently as we stopped on the next. To me relief, he took the helm.

            After four hours of pitching I couldn’t wait any longer and I had to use the head (bathroom). If you’ve ever been on a boat you know how small the bathroom on a boat if. For those of you who do not let me try to explain what using the head in ten foot swells is like… Imagine being locked in a coffin with a coffee can nailed to one end while perpetually rolling down a rocky embankment and you’ll have an idea of what it was like.

            As the fear drenched my heart with every wave, I noticed Alan Jackson playing on the XM radio’s country station – the song “Good Times.” It seemed fitting. 

Day 31 - Voyage to Naknek, AK

June 4^th

            “We’re finally leaving,” I thought as I took a Dramamine (less drowsy formula). Not that it would do me any good because we were already on the water and starting to feel the pitch and roll of the ocean. I sat outside in the cold air as it usually settles my stomach. I couldn’t tell you much of the first three or four hours of our trip because I passed out from the less drowsy Dramamine.

            When I woke up the water was calm. We were passing through Kodiak Island and were protected from the open ocean. We weren’t the only ones who took piece in the calmness of the water – I looked out and saw a geyser spout in the distance. It was so subtle I wasn’t sure if I had really seen anything – but then it happened again. A gray whale broke the water gently with its enormous body – well over the length of our boat – then another, and another. I could see at least a dozen gray whales leisurely making their way through the pass.

            It was my turn to drive the boat… It was my job to get us safely across the Shelikof Strait: a notorious divide between Kodiak Island and the mainland. I’m proud to say I didn’t sink the boat. And I had company to guide me… While I was hanging half out the window to get more air, I was still feeling a little sick, the surface of the water broke again, this time six feet from the side of the boat. It came up so fast I jumped – “What the ****?” I didn’t see what it was or where it had gone. Then I saw them… one cut across the bow then cut back in a tight zigzag. Another leaped next to me and darted ahead. Dolphins had surrounded the boat. They played in the wake for an hour. Dave was sleeping, I was glad to have the company. There was something soothing, calming about their presence. 

Day 30 - Leaving in the Morning

June 3rd

We're packed and ready to leave. The weather has broken. We set off with the tide in the morning.

This will be my last post until I get back from Bristol Bay (6-8 weeks from now).

This is it... I'm going fishing!

Day 28 - Waiting on the Weather

June 1^st

            We’re packed and all systems are a go, but the weather has postponed our departure. The preparations we’ve done in the past week are reminiscent of a long camping trip, an expedition. It took four trips to Costco in the pickup truck to get all the dry food we’re bringing… we still have to buy perishable and frozen goods.

            I’ve packed all my gear… Computer, DVDs, books, journals, camera gear, extra underwear, extra socks, t-shirts, pants, sweatshirts, jackets, deck shoes, casual shoes, boots, rain pants, light rain jacket, heavy duty rain jacket, extra gloves, glove liners, boot liners, arm warmers, baseball hat, knee pads, Victorinox knives (aka: Vicky), one set of nice clothes for when I’m not working, and lots of Dramamine. The most important things are the little articles of clothing that make a long day (or days) on your feet as comfortable as it can get.

            My diet while I’ve been working here consists of meat – that’s all, just meat. There are very few fresh vegetables in Alaska and they’re very expensive. Every day on the boat is equivalent to a long day lifting weights at the gym. It takes its toll on your body – I’m surprised some of these fishermen are in as good condition as they are after doing this for 30 years.

            I wish somehow I could express my excitement to being so close to leaving. I can’t wait to get my hands on some fish! Dave has a number of people lined up for our third crewmember, but he’s picky and is taking his time to find the perfect person for our team – we have a lot of good choices.

            I’m in disbelief of how much I’ve learned so far, I’m still absorbing everything… and we haven’t begun fishing yet. I’ve learned about hydraulics, engines, cooling systems, electricity, and chemistry – all of which (and more) are needed to run and maintain this boat. I can’t imagine what else I’m going to be learning in the next few months.

            The salmon season in Bristol Bay lasts for one to two months. I doubt I’ll find Internet access in that area of Alaska – but there’s always a possibility. After the bay we’ll be fishing for halibut. Halibut is caught on a different system than salmon. Salmon has a season where it can be fished for a certain amount of time – regulated heavily by the number of salmon running. If there are fewer salmon, there is a limit on the number of pounds per day each boat can catch. Halibut can be fished year round with a permit. There are a set number of permits that are owned and do not expire. Each permit is for a specific weight – usually between 10 and 30 thousand pounds per year. One person can own more than one permit. If the owner of a permit does not want to fish, they rent out their permit for a percentage of the earnings. So far we have 50,000 lbs of halibut to catch. The price for halibut right now is a little more than four dollars per pound. As a deckhand I’m getting paid a percentage of everything that we make.

             “Here fishy fishy fishy!”