Day 70 - Bad Karma

July 13^th

            “Not this again,” is what goes through my mind as the fish laden net rolls into the back of the boat. Before I can justify to myself what I’m about to do I grab hold of the fish tangled in the net closest to me and shake it violently in a shower of blood and scales, attempting to break it free. But the fish doesn’t budge. What now? I have to get all these fish out of the net, that’s my job. With brutally physical force I grab the fish by the back of the head and dig my fingers under its gill plate searching for a way to loosen the nets strangle hold.

            Time stops as I notice the fish scanning his new surroundings. It looks at the net, it looks down at the fish already on the deck, and then it looks up at me. My heart freezes as I see the fear in its eyes – “Where am I? What are you going to do to me?” I feel like an alien who’s plucked my next victim from its home – SNAP! THUD! The fish falls to the deck with a crunch that sends a chill down my spine and lays there gasping with what’s left of its head – I still have its gill plate in my hand as I reach for the next fish, my captain screaming over my shoulder to pick faster – SNAP! THUD!

            I pity every fish I pluck out of the ocean. Every time I make eye contact with that scared soul I want to apologize – “Fish, you survived four years out in the treacherous ocean to be snatched on the last and most important leg of your journey and life. You set off to fulfill your most important purpose – carrying on the species, and I came along and ripped half your head off. The saddest part is that I’m not even the one who’s going to eat you, in fact – I’m not even hungry. 

Day 65 - The North Line at Ugashik

July 8^th

            I’m changing. I can feel it. I’m finally in the flow of things, at least more than I was on this boat. I still don’t want to fish for halibut with Dave, but at least we’re being a little more honest, and civil with each other.

            Fishing on the north line in the Ugashik district here in Bristol Bay is a crazy experience, and can only be described as polite and hostile mayhem. Dozens of boats all trying to politely steal each other’s fish.

            One of my jobs as a deck hand is to pick fish out of the net as fast as I can as we reel it in. For anyone starting this for the first time, this is the most frustrating part about this job (aside from having a captain that’s a complete jerk). Some of these fish lodge themselves so thoroughly in the net the only way to describe them (thanks to my friend Tim) is by comparing them to Steve McQueen wrapped in barbwire as he’s trying to escape from the Germans in The Great Escape – “Steve McQueened.” It was the most dreaded part of my day for the first week, but I’m getting the hang of it now, after pulling a couple thousand fish out of the nets so far. My hands are very sore.

            It turns out my decision to come to Bristol Bay was incredibly fortunate – the entire salmon season in Kodiak has been cancelled due to a lack of fish. This is the first time since 1965 they have had to close the salmon season in Kodiak. If I had been a deck hand on a boat there I would not be making money, and I’d probably be on my way home now – which I’m sure my mother was hoping for.

            I miss my family and friends. I’ve been stranded on this boat in a relatively desolate part of Alaska for weeks now. It’s not like I can simply get up and walk away – take a break. We fish when there’s fish. We follow the tides, the times Alaska Fish and Game allows us to fish – we sleep when we can, and we eat as we work. In fact this is the first time I’ve had a few minutes to sit down with my computer and write – because I’m on net watch. We’re drifting along the coast with our net in the water. Everyone is asleep but me.

            This experience has been affirming. I set out to have an adventure – I think it’s safe to say I’ve accomplished that much. I’ve learned a lot of technical know how, and that I work better when I whistle or hum classical music. 

Day 58 - Yes "Sir"

July 1^st

            Dave and I have too similar personalities. We’re both prideful and stubborn. I like to have control over my life and he likes to micro manage everything and everyone around him.

            Our relationship has deteriorated to the point where I simply ignore him unless we’re fishing because any attention I give to him he takes as an opportunity to try to make me angry by insulting me somehow. When I’m ignoring him he storms around slamming doors and cabinets. Whenever I make an attempt to participate, Dave will step in, try to take over and tell me that I don’t know how to do anything. I’ve been trying to be civil. I’ve been trying to be nice… My father recently pointed out to me that I don’t like confrontation. He’s right, when I can avoid using anger or loud voices to “communicate” I do. I prefer looking at a situation from a collected point of view, logically, and let it be – rather than getting upset about something I have no control over. The trick is maintaining a positive attitude. We’re here on this world together, we’re not sure to what purpose, and eventually we’re going to leave this world – something we have no control over – so why worry? Worrying just brings unnecessary stress to an already uncertain existence. Dave’s primal animal does not agree with me… he needs some kind of hostility in his life to feel comfortable. I’m sure it’s a survival technique he learned growing up. If I don’t appease him with hostility I just end up making him angry. So I’m stuck between being my optimistic, un-confrontational self, and letting my anger bubble over to appease Dave’s primal instinct. I don’t like the way my anger makes me feel. I put that person away a long time ago because he wasn’t doing me any favors.

            One thing is for sure… as soon as my contract for this salmon season is over I’m getting off this boat. I should have known when Dave said he’s been doing this for 25 years and he’s hiring a completely new crew. After talking with other deck hands who have more experience with Dave than I do, I found out he talked to them about working for him – they all said there was no way they would do it.

            So here I am, stuck between being myself and not caring about what anyone else thinks, and unlocking my angry side (even if its just for show) to appease someone else’s outdated emotional program. I know that being my optimistic self will continue to piss Dave off – so if I continue to act that way am I trying to make him angry? I don’t like to think that I’m that kind of a vindictive person. But then again I shouldn’t give up my beliefs – no matter what. 

Day 50 - First Contact

June 23^rd

            It’s been almost two months since I arrived in Alaska. I’ve been working on a fishing boat almost the entire time I’ve been here, but I hadn’t touched a single fish until today. I didn’t just touch fish – I was covered from head to toe in blood and scales. I was relieved and excited to finally be catching fish… I wasn’t so excited about Dave screaming at me to pick the fish out of the net faster.

            I’m the greenhorn on the boat, which means I get a hard time from more experienced crewmembers (particularly Dave) – an archaic form of fraternal initiation. The purpose of which is to toughen me up, or weed me out. But under that, Dave is the kind of guy who isn’t happy unless he’s angry about something. Being the greenhorn I am the target of most of his aggression – which also happens to be his teaching technique, negative reinforcement. I’ve been scolded like a dog (Dave owns four, no children), humiliated, threatened, and made to feel guilty for going to college and not learning how to jumpstart a bulldozer. The way I see it, I have a couple different options… the first and most obvious is quit. Who in their right mind would put up with continual emotional abuse in a work setting? The other option is stay – put up with the abuse, close myself off emotionally so I’m cold and “tough.” Or stay and cheerfully remember that there are things in this world I cannot change, I cannot change Dave. He is going to act out his dated emotional programs he learned growing up and there’s nothing I can do about that, and as much as he tries to intimidate me he has no control over me. So I simply remind myself of the things I do have control over. I have control over myself, my reactions, my thoughts, my feelings, I can choose to let Dave into my head or not.

            I’ve been reflecting back on my past teachers, and the ones that stick in my mind are the ones who used positive reinforcement to teach. They encouraged me to take chances and stretch my comfort zone. Even when I failed over and over they encouraged me to try again and again. So the lessons I find myself drawing on while stranded on a 32-foot boat in Bristol Bay are those of encouragement and determination with a great desire to purchase my own video equipment and put the education that didn’t teach me how to jumpstart a bulldozer to use. 

Day 41 - Over a Barrel

June 14^th

            The fishermen catch the fish and give them to the tenders, who work for the canaries. The canaries process and ship the fish to supermarkets and restaurants where consumers purchase Alaskan salmon. The most fishermen get paid for their fish up here is about a dollar a pound. Somewhere between here and the supermarket the price is inflated to over 20 dollars a pound and often higher. The fishermen know this, they don’t like it, but they don’t know what to do about it. They’ve tried striking, but there is always someone who is willing to work for the offered price, they end up catching all the fish because they’re the only ones fishing and it screws everyone else.

            The price fishermen have been getting paid for their fish has not changed since the 70s. Since then fuel prices, expenses for food and expenses to maintain their boats has steadily increased. The overhead to fish has become too cumbersome for most. The canaries will not raise their prices because they know the fishermen have nowhere else to go. Sadly the fishermen are not organized enough or willing to work together to increase their profits. Instead they’re distracted, quarreling amongst themselves, settling for the low prices and grinding away their existence. 

Day 39 - Paul

June 12^th

            Yesterday our second deckhand arrived. I’m very glad to finally have the company of someone other than Dave.

            Paul is 37-year-old single father. He lives in San Mateo and works in the docks in the east bay. Paul and I got along right away. We could relate to each other. This is Paul’s third year fishing, he understands more about how this game works than I do, and he’s helping me along.

            There’s only one problem… Paul is a party animal and we’ve been getting very little sleep. But we’ve been having a lot of fun – a welcomed change of pace from Dave’s constant and amazing ability to not take pleasure in anything he does.