Green Eyes, Part II

 

 I have to pull a net full of green eyes in by hand.  My situation just got depressing.  This is one of those times I wish there were someone else aboard.  But, alas, I fish by myself, so all tasks fall on me to do, even the unpleasant ones.

            I take a big sigh and start to pull.  “This is going to be a mess” I think to myself.  As I pull these bastards in I have to pile the net on deck.  It doesn’t take long before I have no place to stand.  I’m trying to pull with all my might and I keep losing my footing because I’m standing on net and spiky fish.  Adrenaline is pumping, sweat is pouring.  I’m burning up inside my raingear.  It doesn’t matter.  I have to get this net in.  I put one foot on the gunnels for leverage.   And there is no place for my feet on deck anyway.  I pull.  I get pulled. “What the hell, over?” I exclaim (again, to myself).  I put both feet on the gunnels.  This gives me more leverage, but if whatever is weighing to much wins, I’m going in the drink.  I heave.  Again I get pulled.  I feel like a cartoon character as I can’t see what is causing this.  Then I hear “watchya doin’?”  Where did this voice come from?  Surprised, I look up and there is Phil.  I was so engrossed in my tug a war I didn’t hear him pull up.  I yank on the net one more time.  This time I win.  As I do I go flying backwards and land on my back on top of my pile of net and green eyes.  As I land I see a big king salmon come flying over the rollers!  “Holy shit!” I cheer.  I didn’t even see him.  It was pure luck that he didn’t fall out of my net during my tug a war session.  He must have weighed 40 pounds.  I stand up to answer Phil.  “I’m having a blast. Did you see that king?” I pant, as I am out of breath from my current task.  I am now also all slimy from falling on my net and fish.  “Can I give you a hand?”  He asks casually.  “Yeah”.

            He motors over to the end of my net and starts picking it up, as his reel is bigger than mind and can accommodate this.  I take a moment to catch my breath and sigh in relief as my net is finally out of the water.  It only takes Phil a few minutes to pick up my net.  We are now bow to bow.  My work is not done.  I still have to pull my net in by hand, but it’s much, much easier now.  I pile it on my bow.  Once I get it all aboard I thank Phil for his help.         

            I head into my cabin.  My coffee is still on my counter.  I take a swig, its ice cold.  Ah, the life of a fisherman.  I put on my headset and head south to deeper waters.  I have to get rid of these green eyes but I have to run far enough away so I don’t catch more in the process.  My boat feels funny as its all bow heavy from all the green eyes.  It looks deck loaded.  And it is, just not with salmon. 

            I run about 15 minutes wishing I could run longer as I’m not looking forward to the task at hand.  Alas, I can delay the inevitable any longer.  I find a spot where no one is around.  I throw it in neutral.  I crawl back into my raingear and head out on deck.  I throw my buoy over and put the boat in reverse.  I play my net that is stacked on deck out by hand.  I groan in disdain as I can hear it ripping from all the green eyes in it.  I cringe every time I hear that sounds.  Once I get to the net that is on the reel, its goes out a little more smoothly now.  But, I am still setting very slowly as not to rip it up.  Once I get the whole thing out I can start to haul it back in.  The green eyes are still in it, but the come out much easier now that they are dead.  For one, they are not fighting me and they are more limp.   But these things are even more disgusting looking now that they are dead, if you can believe that.  And they stink.  So, I pick them out and throw them over, one by one.  There is no market for these things in Alaska.  To bad too, otherwise I could have just made a lot of money.  I finally get my net cleaned out and back aboard and am ready to fish. I look at the clock, it’s 12 noon.   That venture was only a 5 hour waste of time.
  

Trailer Turned Submarine: Part II

Howard could be found each morning having breakfast at the CoHo until 7:30 AM.   We caught him just as he was leaving.  Howard owned the one and only boom truck in Cordova and he was pushing 80 years old the summer this all happened.  Howard always dressed as a logger, wearing Carhart jeans with buttons for suspenders, suspenders and a wool vest.  He was a cheerful man, had a smile for everyone but was a deaf as a door-knob. 

I told him that while trying to haul my boat out,  my trailer unattached itself from the truck and went in the drink. 

“Did the truck go too?” he inquired, sounding a little like Mr. Magoo.  

“Naw, the truck stayed dry, just the boat and trailer went in.” 

“That’s good, I’ve seen the truck go too.  Salt water ain’t too good for those trucks, ya know”

“Yeah, I suppose not.”

“Well, I can’t do nothing for a few hours, til tide goes out.   How’s ‘bout I meet you down there at 11 AM?”

“Sounds good.  Thanks Howard!”

11 AM sharp Howard comes around the corner with his boom truck.  The same time the NAPA BBQ started.   The same  NAPA BBQ that the whole town shows up for.  Well, I guess that day they got more than they bargained for, they got a free show.  Nothing like have the whole town witness your mistakes. 

Howard backs his boom truck down to the bottom of the ramp where the cement is slick with moss and salt water slime.   And since Howard has a commercial truck, it beeps the whole way down the ramp grabbing everyone’s attention incase they didn’t notice the big truck in the first place.  I was standing on the dock, mortified.  At low tide the trailer is mostly out of the water but not close enough to the ramp that a pick-up would be able to back up to it without going in.

Howard got the truck into positions, set the feet, and stabilized it.   By now, there is a line of by standers, all munching on hotdogs, lined up along the water’s edge for the show.  Howard reaches out with his boom and hooks the trailer.  His truck picks up my several thousand pound trailer like it’s a Tonka Toy and proceeds to raise it a good thirty feet into the air for everyone to see.

I hear from somewhere in the crowd “Hey Pickett!  That your trailer?”  I nod.  “Truck go in, too?”  I shake my head.  Everybody seems to be asking me that today.

Howard seem to hold my trailer up in the air for an eternity, giving the towns folk their money worth, I suppose.  If it were possible for a person to die of embarrassment, I would have.  Willingly.  After Howard was certain everyone at the BBQ was entertained, he put my trailer down on dry land where Lenny came with the pick-up.  “Better let me hook it up this time”

Though thoroughly embarrassed, I was grateful for Howard and his boom truck.  I don’t know how else I would have gotten my trailer out of the harbor.  I asked how much I owed him, figuring my bill would be anywhere from $100-$200 bucks.  Howard smiled and said “A cup of coffee, if you argue, it’ll be two.” 

In memory of Gloria Clarke

And

Howard Johnson

Oh, what’s a gal to wear?

Recently, I asked what I wear out fishing.  My answer?  The same thing.  My fishing pants are these old nappy black fleece pants that are over 10 years old and so out of style I have to hide them from the fashion police. I've weighed fashion verses function but function won.  I don’t even wear them in town.  I wear something else to and from the boat and change when I get on board.  It’s such an ingrained routine the skipper even knows it.  The other day we ran out to the fishing grounds and dropped anchor.  I had my town pants on and was about to climb into my bunk when skipper cried “You’re wearing the wrong pants!” I wear them to bed, too.  Guess I just outed myself on that one. I’ll wear them the entire time out there but as soon as I finish cleaning up the boat, I change into something else.  They are these peg leg pants that are form fitting all the way to the ankle, which may look great on someone else, but not me.  But the reason I wear them fishing is that I can just slip on my Xtra-Tuff (knee high brown neoprene boots) fishing boots without having to fuss with the cuffs of my pant legs. 

The ugly pants back when they were new!

I also wear knee high wool ski socks.  I discovered this luxury last year.   I used to wear wool socks that only came to mid-calf.  But they would slide down and bunch up.  Now I find ski socks on sale right before the fishing season.  They have nice cushion and tend to stay up better.  Plus they come in fun colors like purple or blue stripes. 

The rest of my outfit is pretty much fleece and capline.   I used to wear cotton hooded sweatshirts, but they are so heavy when they get wet. Plus, when it’s wet, cotton kills.  (A little side note that you probably already know but studies show that when you are wet and wearing cotton your body temperature is lower than if you were naked.) 

Me in cotton, before I knew any better

Now I wear fleece hoodies because I hate the feel of cold wet raingear on the back of my neck.  Besides, it’s cold enough most days to want an extra hood. Under that I wear a quick dry capline tank top.  So, wool ski socks, ugly fleece pants, capline undergarments, and a fleece hoody topped off with my lucky fishing hat (which is cotton, but hey, rules were meant to be broken.)

I also wear a Stormy Sea’s vest which has an inflatable bladder.  Just a pull of a string it inflates almost instantly with a CO2 cartridge.  (http://www.stormyseas.com/) Just in case I go over.  The Copper River has lots of glaciers and the water is quite silty.  That silt permeates your clothing and if you go in the drink out there, you’ll sink like a rock. Plus, most days it’s cold enough to want an extra layer, even in the summer.

Me in my Stormy Seas and Grundens

On top of all that I wear raingear which is cotton (I know) lined PVC that is waterproof, but not breathable.  So you are always at least a little wet.   This was all made for a man and doesn’t fit me too well.  I wear orange Grundens bibs and jacket.  (http://www.grundens.com) I used to wear dark green raingear which matches my complexion better than orange. 

Me in deadly green

However, it was pointed out to me that my raingear was the same color as the water and if I ever went in, I’d never be found.  So, again, function over fashion, now I wear orange.

Here I have it backwards with green on top

I'm starting to get it right.....

My bibs these days are also orange and have been repaired several times.  When they get a hole, I sew them up with green mint flavor dental floss, slather them with Aqua Seal then slap some duct tape on the inside for good measure.  Those patches have held up well but now one leg is falling off.  It started to rip at the beginning of the season at the bottom and is already an inch shorter than the other.  It may be time to retire this set after the season.  But at about $250 or so for a new set, I like them to last as long as possible. 

My snap down hooded jacket has neoprene cuffs so when you raise your arms cold salty water doesn’t run down your sleeve.  Most of the snaps have stayed on over the years but are getting a bit rusty.  The snaps up by my face have little bits of gillnet stuck around them.  They got caught in the web once when I was setting my net.  One moment, I’m standing there, all fat, dumb and happy.  Next thing I know, I’m flying across the deck and heading out with the net.  Luckily, I when I hit the rail the mesh of the net broke and set me free.  But that was sure scary.  This was years ago on my own boat.  Good thing, too.  If it happens on the boat I’m working on now, I’d hit the power roller which is a hydraulic cylinder that spins on the bow between the bow rollers.  When setting the net, it’s turned on full blast to help set the net by keeping the leadline or the bottom of the net taught. But if you hit it when setting, it would launch your ass then the bow rollers would crucify you before you go over.  This hasn’t happened to me yet, but is something I think about every time we set the net.

 My boots are Xtra-Tuffs.  I have to wear the next size larger or my calves don’t fit in.  (Don’t men have calves?) The entire outfit is polished off with orange rubber gloves to complete the look.  The only other things to add are sunglasses and lots of sunscreen.  And there you have it.

Until next time, eat fish!

Me, back then, displaying the latest fashions on Humpys

My outfit today. Note, I've also upgraded from Humpys to a King Salmon!