I drove through the Yukon and all I got was this lousy metal shard in my tire

Metal shard in my tire

 Lucky for me, I stopped and got it fixed before I had a flat tire in the middle of the Yukon in the middle of the near blizzard I was driving in.  But, I'm getting ahead of myself.

The Yukon, near the AK border, May 7, 2012

Fishing season is upon us!  It starts next week actually, we got a 12 hour opener May 17th for the Copper River.  Fish on!  The fish buzz is in the air as we all gear up for yet another season.

It was time to make my way back up to Alaska after visiting family in Ohio.  I packed up the car and headed north.  Well, west first, around Chicago then north. 

I entered Canada from North Dakota, drove across the plains with their lovely old wooden grain elevators and their old farm equipment turned into statues and endless fields.  And, of course, their larger than life statues of Paul Bunyan and a disturbingly large beaver statue about 25 feet tall.

Once I hit Edmonton, the road goes more north again and skirts the mountains.  The landscape become more rustic along with the buildings.

Camp ground in Fort Nelson where it costs $37.00 to pitch a tent.  Showers are extra.

Who knew they even allowed guns in Canada

Rustic justice. 

 I also saw a picture of a revolver that said "we don't call 911". 

 Soon, if you are not shot first, you are passing more wildlife of the roads than cars.

Stone Sheep in BC & Yukon

Caribou, aka Boo

Stone sheep 

Ewe

Wild bison littered along the highway

Boo

Moo

Little black bear in the Yukon

More boo outside my window

In between dodging wild animals on the road, snow storms and metal shards, I did get to enjoy some local R&R at Liard Hot Springs in BC and local sign post forests like this one outside of Whitehorse.

Sign Post Forest of the Yukon

Liard Hot Springs

Some of the drive was just breath-taking, like this lake the just disappears into the mountains and the road, that goes right through it.

BC

After 4000 miles and about 8 straight days of driving, I made it to Alaska.  Ah, it was good to be home where there are glaciers along the side of the road.  And planes parked at rest stops, also along side of the road.  How did it get there?

plane parked on turn-out along the Glenn Highway

Matanuska glacier

Tune in next week to hear all about the Copper River's first opener of the season.

Until then, eat fish, live longer.

Cordova's "Snowpocalypse" 2012

 

Cordova Alaska, where I fish, is used to managing a lot of snow.  But this winter, they’ve received

around twenty feet in twenty-four days, give or take.  A bit more than the normal amount. 

Browning street in downtown Cordova

School was cancelled, the airport was snowed in, businesses shut down, residents were snowed in, the road was closed, roofs collapsed and avalanches were triggered.   This town is used to being self-sufficient and true to form, Cordovans pulled together to help each other out best they could.  A task force was created to manage and prioritize each crisis, such as digging down eight feet of snow to the top of someone’s heating fuel tank or digging someone out of their home.  But after a few days, even they had to call for help.  The mayor declared an emergency and the National Guard was called in.  They had to arrive by ferry since the airport was still buried in snow.  Granted, they arrived without shovels, a slight oversight, but that was quickly remedied and they helped dig the town out.  Shovels were a hot commodity, you see, the whole town was sold out.  More were ordered but with the airport shut down, there was no way to get them shipped in.  Meanwhile, it kept snowing.

Copper River Seafoods
(photo by L. O'Toole)

 

Copper River's net loft
(L.O'Toole)

  

Roofs caved in under the weight. One of those roofs was the Copper River Seafood's warehouse. Inside that warehouse were fisherman’s boats, nets and gear. The irony is that these fisherman took the extra step of putting their boats to bed for the winter inside a cozy dry warehouse, opposed to either leaving them in the water or storing them outside on a trailer.   And then the roof caved in.  At first, it was just the second floor that was damaged, but as it kept snowing, that floor eventually caved in on top of boats. From what I understand, what the snow didn’t destroy in that warehouse the heavy equipment used to clean up the snow did.

heavy equipment clearing the snow load
(L. O'Toole)

heavy equipment clearing the snow load
(L. O'Toole)

boats inside on the bottom floor
(L. O'toole)

When a disaster like this strikes, I can’t help but wonder how it will affect the economy of the town, which is primarily commercial fishing.  If fishermen lost their boats, will they be able to make a season out of it?

There are just so many variables in fishing, like state of your boat, your gear, currents, how much sleep you just got, or didn’t get.  And so many things outside our control that affect our fisheries such as earthquakes in Japan, fuel prices going through the roof, dentists in Fairbanks (anyone remember that?), and record snow falls.  All I know is we can only control what we do or don’t do.  So I guess we’ll all just keep on keeping on and hope for the best. 

I’m out.

The fat lady has done sung

Typically, this time of year, silvers are just starting to wind down, but this year, silvers never really materialized.  The fat lady has done sung. 

It was a weird season.  Reds came in like gangbusters.  Come mid July, it was like someone shut off a faucet.  Silvers never really showed but.  Then it blew.  And I don’t mean some namby-pamby little blow.  I mean, it blew.  It was just like my dad’s favorite saying “the wind blew, shit flew, and no one could see for an hour or two.” 

It started blowing last Friday, it blew an obnoxious 30-45knots through the weekend.  Nothing super bad, but bad enough to make going outside not much fun.  This, it got serious or as we say, it got nautical.  Hurricane force winds.   70.  Gusts to 70 miles per hour. For. Three. Days.    That, folks, is foul.  No one could sleep, no one could leave.  Tenders got stuck down east then didn’t even buy fish because they knew they couldn’t get back.  The ferry was cancelled for three days.  Israeli tourist had to abandon their tour guide.  Volleyball teams were stuck here and had to transfer school districts.  I couldn’t get my uneven hair cut fixed because the hair dresser was out of town, stuck, waiting for the ferry. 

Just like Jimmy Buffett, I shot three holes in my freezer with cabin fever.  And it’s only September!  But not long now and I’ll be able to make my escape.   I head over to Kenai to perform at the Kenai Fisher Poets Gathering Friday and Saturday, 7-10 and Sunday, 2-?.  After that, my 4000 mile road trip through Canada.  Stay tuned!  In the mean time, eat fish!

Elephants and Flowers

One thing about fishing is waking form a dead sleep then finding yourself working on deck just moments after.  And, if you are a vivid dreamer, like me, this can be quite disorientating.  Example, I am fortunate that, through much practice, can sleep anywhere, anytime, in any position.  Years of working on boats, on top of years of travel, has given me lots of practice of catching cat naps round the clock.   Over the years I have perfected this art.  It comes in handy.  During our fishing openers sleep is often catch as catch can.  There is nothing worse than laying in your bunk counting away the precious minutes allotted for sleep. I did this once in Bristol Bay.  I climbed into bunky with four hours of sleep, then tossed and turned for hours.  Three hours of sleep.  Two and a half hours of sleep…you get the picture.  Once they are gone, they are gone.  However, nowadays, I’m out as soon and sometime slightly before, my head hits the pillow.  I can even have colorful dreams in a 20 minute cat nap.  Just the other day I was dreaming that a helicopter  dropped off a baby elephant on our deck.  I was examining its feet and pondering how funny elephant’s feet are.  Unlike most things on earth, like humans or cats who have feet that protrude, elephant’s feet are shaped more like a hoofed animal, like a horse.  Only they don’t have hoofs, unless maybe that is what their ‘toes’ are.  In my dream, I was contemplating this as the chopper was lowering the baby elephant on deck.  At that very moment, skipper woke me up.  We were anchored in Buckles Hole in 25 feet of water.  But the wind had changed, swinging us into 4 feet of water and our stern almost of the beach.  Going dry is embarrassing.  I look at the GPS and see that it is 3:51 AM.  My eyes continue to scan, moving from the GPS to the bow.  “Where is the elephant?” I ask myself.  As if it is perfectly normal to have an elephant on a commercial fishing boat in Alaska.

Later that same day, I again got a short siesta.  This time I drifted off to a tropical party complete with cats and beluga whales.  It was so nice to be in a skirt in the warm weather.  It was green and lush and fragrant with flowers.  After watching the belugas frolic with the cats, it was time to head into the party.  Before I started down the narrow dirt trail surrounded by leafy green foliage, someone, I didn’t see who, was lining the path with flower petals.  I could feel the cool damp, yet velvet y soft flora under my feet. 

Then we had to pick up the net.  I roll out of the bunk plunking my feet on the cold blue linoleum wonder where the flowers went.  Usually, I keep these amazements to myself.  But, sometimes, in my stupor, I slip. In the midst of different dream I could hear a knocking at the door.  I, apparently, awoke asking the skipper who was at the door.  Yesterday after a nap skipper asked me if I got any sleep and I replied “I don’t know.”  And I didn’t.  I couldn’t tell if I had slept or not….so I’m guessing I did. 

That’s the haps this week. Until next time, eat fish!  

OK, I’m out.

Grumble grumble

Grumble Grumble

This is the grumble edition of PickFIsh Tales.  A rant, if you will.  What I’m sick of.   I ‘m just going to list them, in no particular order,  not most to least or vice versa and I think if I listed them alphabetically, you’d all think I was anal retentive or have OCD or something.  However, despite what I just said, I think I am most sick of the weather.  I know, I know.  It’s Alaska, it’s supposed to be cold. Well, even 49 degrees is cold for Alaska in June.  This part of Alaska anyhow.  I’m sick of being cold.  Of working in it on the boat, working in it in town while mending at the warehouse, of waking up in it in the morning (I still have yet to figure out what is wrong with my heater in my camper.  It only works if you manually turn it on, which I do in the morning once I wake up but I still have to wake in the cold.)  I’m sick of the rain, too.  I might be more sick of that than the cold.  If it were sunny but brisk I think that would be better than rain. 

I’m sick of being tired all the time.  I made the mistake this morning of adding up all the hours I’ve been putting in.  I remember doing this once a long time ago then going one step further and figuring out what I was making on an hourly basis.  It’s a good thing there weren’t any sharp objects around then because it was a pretty dismal amount.  Like 7 bucks an hour or something.  I knew better this time to stop where I was and not add up my hourly wage.  But, I didn’t know enough to not add up how many hours a week I was putting in.  We are currently fishing two 36 hour periods a week here on the Flats.  That’s 72 hours just in itself.  Then figure in run time and skipper likes to leave the night before.  Just leaving the night before twice a week adds at least 24 hours, possibly more (but I’ll say 24 hours because anything more than that will just be too depressing).  Then ballpark that I’m mending about 15 hours a week and that’s ……holy shit!  111.  No wonder I feel like I don’t have time for anything.  I don’t!

This is on top of the fog in my brain created by lack of sleep.  Its only 2 nights a week but somehow it lingers.  On those 36 hour openers, I get about 6 hours of sleep but it is broken up into 11/2 to 2 hour chunks.  Nights before the opener, I usually get 5-7 hours of sleep.  Trouble is, when I get to back to town, my body only sleeps about 6 or 7 hours because that is what it is used to.  Besides, sleep cuts into other activity time. 

This fog creeps in and you lose the ability to think.  All fishermen know what I’m talking about or anyone else who is sleep deprived on a regular basis.  You get that 1000 yard stare and just look at something, blankly, and know you know it but you can’t think.  Then someone else will come along, who is not a sleep deprived fisherman, and look at you, incredulously, and will give you a hand.  “Jen, 2+2=4”.  “Oh, ok, uh..thanks” and I’ll sheepishly walk away.  The other morning I woke up on the boat and couldn’t remember the skipper’s name.   Shit.  What’s his name, what’s his name?  I mean, this is only the 2^nd season I’ve fished with him.  I’ve only known him for about 10 years.  Jack? No.  A list of all the guys I used to fish for came pouring in.  Dave? No, that was the Gene S back in ’94.  Mike? No, good guess, there were 2 Mikes, the Coral down in southeast and the Whiskey Creek out in Bristol Bay.   Louie? Christ no, it’s not Louie! It did come to me, eventually, but what a feeling not be able to think of something so simple, something that I probably say 100 times a week  and a face that I see more that I get to see my own boyfriend’s!  Anyway, I’m sick of that.

I’m also sick of my hands being sore.   Not just the little nicks and cuts I get because my hands get dried out from salt water and crack, but sore from picking fish and mending.  I’m sick of the ache in the fingers and the sting in my knuckle of my right middle finger, the knuckle just under the fingernail.  It’s a small joint, but it hurts.  I’m also sick of smashing my hands on things when they are cold and wet.  Under the hatch covers, the level wind….I haven’t smashed them bad enough to cause any damage or bruising, just enough to smart for a while.  And you know how things hurt more when your hands are cold.  I know, I know, I should be grateful I even have a job.  I’ll try to remind myself of that next time I slam my fingers in the hatch cover.

I’m sick of my feet being clammy in Xtra-Tuff’s all day long.  I’m sick of my clothes smelling like fish.  I’m sick of smelling exhaust.  Sick of my ears hurting from wearing earmuff’s while running. (I have this nice expensive pair of Bose Noise Cancelling head phone that are light and comfortable, but I can’t wear them on this boat because there is too much vibration and they make noise.) I’m sick of flip-flopping around all day.  Sick of slamming into things and getting all bruised up like an apple.  Sick of having to hold the throttles for the entire 2 hour run down to Softuk because they don’t stay up themselves.  Sick of the loud bang everything makes on an aluminum boat.  Sick of the color of aluminum.  Grey.  (On a side note, did you know that you can’t put an copper bottomed pot on aluminum?  Electrolysis.  The copper eats through the stainless steel.  On the other hand, if you have meat that needs to be thawed out, just slap in on the aluminum deck and it will thaw in a minutes.  You can’t just set the Styrofoam package down, you have to put the meat side down.  Makes me wonder if I strip down if I would thaw me out? Just a thought.)  Let’s see, I was on a roll here………Oh, sick of my hair being a mess,  sick of not getting enough showers, sick of looking at my huge pile of laundry and mail and the too tall grass in my yard and my unplanted flowers. Sick of not posting my blog on time. There is more, I’m sure, but you get the idea.

But then, on the other hand,  after all that, I get my paycheck and think, OK.  I’ll do it one more time. 

Copper River Flat's 4th & 5th Fishing Period.

There was a big run out tide Monday morning before the opener.  Skipper got up at 4 AM to run out the Grass bar.  Low water was a 6:47 AM with 12 feet of water moving.  Crossing the bar at low water could get a bit dangerous.  Unfortunately, this proved to be true, though not for us.  We were floating around waiting for the 7 AM work bell to go off when we heard someone relaying a MAYDAY call to the Coast Guard on channel 16.  Hearing a MAYDAY never ceases to send a chill straight through to my spine, each and every time. 

At first, we were getting just getting bits of information, waiting for the story to unfold.  The fishing vessel (f/v) Topnotch was standing by a vessel in the break at Kokenhenik Bar.   Vessel was upright but appeared to be without power, two souls on board.   Coast Guard asked the make and color of the vessel.  Topnotch reported that it was a 30’ aluminum bowpicker.  Well, that narrows it down to about half the fleet.  After a few more minutes Topnotch spelled out the vessel name “Golf-Uniform-Lima-Kilo-Alpha-November-Alpha”. Skipper and I looked at each other, incredulous.  At the same time, we both said “Did he just spell out Gulkana? That’s my buddy, Billy Jr., fisherman, direct marketer, Copper River Salmon Marketing Association Board member, Prince William Sound Yacht Club President, Wine on Wednesday (WOW) goer and boat builder extraordinaire.  6 flags over Billy. So named after the 6 pennants he flies on his boat.  Flew.

Topnotch, being a single engine, fiberglass Miller rig, and the wrong side of the bar, was unable to assist.  There would have been 2 to rescue if he had attempted.  The Gulkana was on bottom in the breakers and taking ‘em over the cabin.  I waved to him on his was out the night before.  We were both leaving the harbor at the same time.  I could see he had his girlfriend Lori with him.  I don’t think she usually fishes with him but since it was a long weekend, Memorial Day and all, she probably had an extra day off.  It was a nice forecast and probably thought it would be a fun time on the flats.

The f/v Cape Fear , an aluminum twin jet boat, came in from the other side of the bar to tow Billy and Lori out of there, but got the tow line sucked in his jet and was unable to assist.    The f/v Sewak, also an aluminum twin jet rig was able to get a hold of the Gulkana and tow them out of there with both on deck in their survival suits.  The Sewak is Bill Sr., Billy Jr’s dad.  Billy built both boats. 

In the mean time the Coast Guard was sending a helicopter with a pump, but it was 45 minutes out.  The Sewak was able to tow them to safety but reported that only the bow rollers of the Gulkana was the only part above water.  She sank in 80 feet of water.

Here is the story I was able to piece together. Billy was running out, rode a wave, came down on the bottom and snapped off his two lower units.  A wave hit his stern, busted out both windows, flooded the engine room and left them without power, which is why they never made the MAYDAY call.   Several 12 footers crashed down, tweaking the cabin and making it impossible to open the door.  They were able to escape out the window.  They were pounded by breakers about 45 minutes before anyone could get to them and tow them out of there. 

It’s been a crazy season so far.  The weather hasn’t been too bad, only that one opener, but there sure have been lots of rescues.  Luckily, so far, everyone has made it through. 

Fishing was pretty good on Monday then slowed down a bit for Thursday's opener.  Thats the way she goes though.  We'll try 'er again on Monday.  Until then, eat fish!

I’ll catch ya on the flip side. 

1st Copper River Opener of 2011!

This is a PSA.  Due to technical difficulties (my blog host was down yesterday) this blog is a day late and a dollar short.  Must be a Friday the 13th thang.  My apologies for any inconvenience.  With that said, let's get started.

It's here!! It's here! It's almost here!  The 1st commercial fishing opener is Monday, May 16th at 7:00 AM!  The whole town is a buzz.  Everyone is scurrying around (or running around like a chicken with it's head cut off, depends how you look at it) gearing up for the season.  Last minute things like fixing broken valves on hydro's, repairing nets,  attaching out-drives, launching boats, or, simply even just arriving town. It's all gotta get done.  It seems every year this date sneaks up on us and there is never enough time to pull it all together. But, we usually all manage anyway and usually make it out there on Monday.  Though I already heard of two guys that just aren't going to make it.  One guy, his boat sat for a few years before he bought it.  A unused boat is not a good thing.  Things seize up, rust, break, etc.  In his case, I think it's a prudent move to wait.  The Copper River Flats is no place for a shake down cruise to find faulty equipment.  It's too dangerous for that type of thing.  But, I digress.  The other guy, and this has got to be frustrating, a store clerk dropped the ball on ordering his part and that delayed its arrival by 5 days..........so he'll miss the opener.  Sometime, its just not up to us.  Me?  I'll be heading out on this one.  It will be nice to get out on the water again.  I ran my raingear and survival suit down to the boat yesterday.  A strange familiarity came back the instant I stepped aboard.  I'll go fish and report back next week.

A good place to keep up with the excitement is Copper River Salmon on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/CopperRiverSalmon. They even have a count down 'til the opener.  If you want to keep up with the official news you can check out the Alaska Department of Fish and Game (ADF&G) at http://www.adfg.alaska.gov/index.cfm?adfg=commercialbyareacopperriver.salmon.  More info here: http://aprn.org/2011/05/12/first-salmon-opening-of-the-year-starts-monday/.  And, if you are looking for ways to cook your fresh Copper River Salmon, check out this site.  I think the King Salmon with Lemon Caper Butter looks divine.   http://start.tastespotting.com/tag/wild+salmon.


The sun is shining here in Cordova for three whole days now The sunrise is 5:17 and sunset is 10:37 giving us tons of daylight (sorry to make you do your own math there, it's about 17+ hours of day). And...........SHOREBIRDS!  Shorebirds are here.  These little critters land here every year on their migration from some place like Chili to the Arctic Circle.  I think its the longest migration on earth.  Anywho, they land out at Hartney Bay and gobble up some bugs before taking off again.  I was lucky to catch them on a nice evening and got a few pics.

Shorebirds at Hartney Bay

Shorebirds

Until next week, eat fish!!

Cruiseship Part II

I speed up my hydraulics and pick a little faster.  I hear my buddies call on the radio. I don't have time for the radio but know they will worry if I don't respond.  I run in and tell them quickly that I see the ship and that I’m picking my net right now and have to get back out on deck.   I’m sure they were worried and could hear the panic in my voice.  I was 28 and it was my first fishing season. 

            I race back out of the cabin and back to picking my net.  I look over my cabin again and now, I’m alarmed.  But, on the other hand, there is still a little sense of denial, like maybe I’m over reacting.  Maybe I just look like I’m in his path but he’ll really go around me.  I think there is often a little element of disbelieve when bad things happen to us.  A moment of “this can’t be happening”.    Although, that moment was fleeting and in an instant I’m back to reality.  This monstrosity is heading right for me there is no denying it now.   No time to pick the fish out of the net.  I realize I need to get my net in now!  I consider my options while picking up my net.  My mind is racing. With more than half of my net still out, there is no way I can maneuver the boat anywhere. My engine doesn’t have enough horsepower to just tow the net out of the way.  Besides, this thing is so big, it’s hard to judge if I even could tow out of its path.  I make the split second decision to either get my net aboard or cut myself free of it.  I stop and think for a second where my in case of emergency knife is.  The one that is brand new and I don’t use in order to keep is sharp for instances such as these.  I look over and it’s hanging in its little case next to the steering station.  I thank my lucky stars that it’s there.  I grab it and set in next to me, just in case I can’t get the entire net in and have to cut it free.  I figure with me towing on one end it should be pretty tight and relatively easy to cut.  Especially if the cruise ship grabs the other end of the net, it will be tight as a drum then.  But, I’ll have to be quick.  If I linger too long, I’ll get sucked into the bow wake of the ship and it will slam me against its side.  And at $5000 for a new net, I want to get my net aboard. Looking back, I can’t believe I was more concerned about a lousy $5000 fishing net than I was about my life!  But, I think there was still that element of denial going on.  As if I hadn’t accepted anything else except best case scenario of getting me and my equipment out of danger.   The reality of having to choose between myself and my boat hadn’t sunk in yet.

 Finally, I stop picking the fish out of my net and just drum it all aboard.  Everything is going on the drum, net, fish and all.  This is very poor quality handling of the fish and pretty much ruins them, but given the circumstance, I can't care about quality right now.  Yet, the idea of fish quality still flashes through my mind.  Nevertheless I remind myself that the quality isn't going to be very good if they are splattered all over the bow of a cruise ship and I’m at the bottom of the ocean, either.  But drumming fish aboard my boat is a risk, too.  If I have too many fish, they won't all fit on my drum.  Then my drum will be full and I'll still have net out.  In that case, I'll have to pull the rest of the net in by hand, which is doable but, takes forever and is not even an option this morning.

I look up again and now I am looking straight up at the bow of this cruise ship.   I bump up my hydraulics and put the boat in reverse so the net will tighten and fit on the drum better.  I wish I had thought of this sooner.  Otherwise, like I mentioned, my drum will fill up and I’ll have to pull the rest of the net in my hand.  This is not something I have time for this morning and neither is beating myself up for not thinking of things sooner.  I rev up the engine again to bump up the speed of my hydraulics, again, and am running them faster than they are designed to go.  I’m hoping I don’t blow a hose as I'm listening to them whine.   Actually, now I’m praying I don’t blow a hose. It’s funny; they say if you aren’t religious when you go out fishing, you will be by the time you get back.  I think there may be an element of truth to that.

 Looking up again, I realize now I’m seriously in trouble.  I have been out on deck about 7 minutes and awake about 15 minutes.  I am looking at this giant wall of metal getting bigger and bigger and as it gets closer it gets closer.   I am right dead center in its path.  If I don’t get out of its way, I will be run over. There is no longer any doubt, no longer any room for denial.  He is not going around me. He is heading right at me.  I throttle up again to speed up my hydraulics which are now screaming.  Fish are flying aboard and smacking the deck as they are going around the drum, thud, thud, thud.  Water, jellyfish, and fish blood are flying everywhere.  I grab my in case of emergency knife.  I am ready to cut my net in order to get out of the way.     It’s looking like I’ll have to cut my net after all.  Not my first option, it’s the last.  However, I am running out of options.   If I don't get my net aboard and this ship hits my net, he will suck me along side and I’ll be crushed against the side of the boat.  I’ve heard of this happening to guys down in Puget Sound. It’s a bad scene and right now, best case scenario.  If this ship hits me, well, let’s just say I won't be worrying about my net anymore. 

All the while, I’m thinking “This is it? This is how I go?  Really?  I don’t at least get the honor of being taken by a wave in Kokinhenik, the most dangerous bar on the Copper River Delta, like so many other great fishermen.  I have to be killed by a big, tacky cruise ship? How indignant.  I want a more honorable death.”

            Needless to say, adrenaline is running high, my heart is pumping and I am doing all I can to get my net in a get out of this guys way. I keep looking at how full my drum is, how much net I still have aboard, and back at how close the cruise ship is. I’m practically giving myself whip-lash just assessing the situation.  Finally, in comes the end of my net. I rejoice a small moment.  Never mind the fact that I’m not religious, I thank god I was able to get the whole thing in without blowing a hose or filling up the drum.  My buoy comes flying in and smacks down on the deck. Thud!  Quickly, I run inside to shut off my hydraulics because my outside switch broke. I don’t want to risk the hydro’s blowing when I got full throttle to get out of here.  I think to myself I really need to fix that switch. My net is aboard but my boat is still in the way.  I race back on deck and push the throttle into full forward, down as far as it will go. The diesel engine roars and I feel the bow rise up and the stern squat down as it picks up speed.  I run out of there full bore, as fast as I can.  I look back and see that I am clear of the boat, except for his bow wake coming at me.  I quickly turn the wheel and I get my boat turned around just as his bow wake is hits my bow.  Because I’m so close, his wake is steep and fast.  Catching it on the side would probably flip me.  My boat climbs up then slides back down each individual wave, about four of five on them in total, each one about six feet tall, but becoming smaller.

            Finally, I am out of danger, with only about 100 feet to spare.  I look up in awe as this white monster fills my entire field of vision.  I watch it go by me and I feel my knees go weak. The rush of adrenaline was gone and my eyes fill with tears.  My knees give out and I sit down on my fish hold and cry.  Through blurry eyes, I see this giant go past me.  I imagine the passengers having a lovely breakfast, gaze out the window and see me, sitting on my boat.   I give them the finger.  

I didn't take this picture.  My boat is that small dot under the dip net. 

Cruiseship

Did I ever tell you about the time that I was almost run over by one of those real big cruise ships?  It was back in 2000, my first year fishing my own boat. I was up in Coghill, in the northwest of Prince William Sound. College Fjord is a spectacularly beautiful and pristine area of the Sound and a popular destination for cruise ships.  The fjord is about 20 miles long and consists of five tide water glaciers, five glacier valleys, and countless other glaciers.  It’s possible to see eight glaciers at once.  It is a narrow stretch of pristine, deep blue water, glaciers, and icebergs all surrounded by spectacular mountains dotted with birds and marine wild life.  There are rafts of otters floating around, cracking clams on their bellies and bald eagles soaring in the sky.   The crystal clear water is peppered with white and blue icebergs.  A sockeye run that goes through there and up the Coghill River.   

Running my net on f/v King-N-I

I’m awakened by Lenny, one of my buddies, calling me on the radio.  It’s early, maybe 4:30 in the morning, but is already daylight.   I had made a night set and finally hopped in my bunk around 1 am for some much needed sleep.  Typically, a set lasts about an hour.  If you are lucky, you can make a night set for about 2 or 3 hours without getting into too much trouble because the gill net acts like a big sea anchor and slows down the drifting of the boat. If you are unlucky, you might get tangled with another boat, wrap a buoy, wrap your own boat with your own net, drift across the line only to be rudely roused by the Troopers writing you a ticket for fishing over the line, drift up onto a reef and rip your net in two, or drift ashore.  There is a plethora of predicaments you can wake up in.   The possibilities are endless.  I know, as I’ve encountered most of them.  However, this morning I would add a new possibility to the list.

Still a novice at “the fishin’ position”, I set my alarm for every hour and half so I could wake up and look outside to see if I’ve gotten into any trouble.  The alarm goes off and I stumble out of the bunk and shock my eyes by going from dead asleep to looking out into the blaring daylight. It usually takes a few moments for them to adjust then another few moments for events to compute while I wake up.  But, if everything looks OK, I go back to bed and set my alarm for another hour and half.  This night was no different.  Now, granted, I do sometime have a biased opinion of “OK”.  I know this about myself.  When I get woken in the middle of the night, or precisely, in the middle of my three hour nap, I’ll deem almost anything as “OK” so I can go back to bed.

The weather is calm, clear skies with no wind.  Everybody is making a night set and I am on the outside of the fleet.   We were all spaced out nicely, with no signs of trouble, yet.  Sure, there were a few ice bergs around, but none so close that I was concerned with wrapping one.  Those are a bugger to get out of the net.  It’s impressive how well they can get entangled. They may look smooth, but in reality, there are thousands and thousands of little edges that like to get caught up in the net. As soon as one corner is free, another gets caught up.  It’s practically endless.  Also, it’s true.  For every bit of ice seen on the surface, there is at least another 90% of the burg under the water.  

My night set came and went without catching any icebergs or any other hitch.  It was morning when all hell started to break loose and it all began with that call from Lenny.  He was calling to make sure that I knew a cruise ship was coming around the corner and heading our way.  I had heard the ship make an announcement on the radio but it didn’t lure me out of my bunk.

            I roll out of my sleeping bag rubbing my eyes.  Not being a morning person by nature, it takes a little time for my brain to register information, especially on 3 hours of sleep.  So, I look out my window and had to shade my eyes from the morning sun.  After a few moments to get them to focus, sure enough, there is a cruise ship coming around the corner.  “Ah well”, I thought, diving back into my bunk as I was desperate for sleep.  I remember thinking “He'll go around.  Besides, I have the right-of-way”.  And I plop back in to my bunk.  A few minutes later, Lenny calls me back.  I begrudgingly get up and answer the radio, wishing I had an extension cord for my radio so I can talk on the radio without getting out of the bunk.  Since I’m up, I look out the window again.  Sure enough, there is a huge white cruise ship coming around the corner a few miles away.   It appears that the cruise ship is turning wide enough to go around everyone else fishing.  Everyone except me, that is.   It looks like he is heading right towards me. It’s traveling much faster than I initially anticipated and is a great deal closer to me than I would have thought possible in only a matter of a few minutes. If I stay in my current location, in a few more minutes I’ll be squashed like a bug on a windshield.  Now, a shot of adrenaline kicks in and now I’m awake.  I fire up the engine and stumble around getting dressed.  I hop into my raingear, which is positioned near my door fireman style, with my bibs wrapped around my boots just for instances like this and I need to get into them quickly. I figure there's no time to call this guy on the radio, I'm the one who needs to boogie out of there.  It’s a judgment call, but I know these things don't stop on a dime and even changing course take time. 

            There is no time to let my engine warm up this morning. I turn on my hydro's go outside to pick up my net.  The first thing I feel the cold, crisp air slap my face.  That’s the thing about glaciated areas; they are beautiful, but cold. But, no to dwell on my surroundings, I have a cruise ship coming at me. I start reeling in my net and picking fish.  Since my net has been out a few hours, there are a few fish in there.  And, I don’t say this often, but luckily, there weren’t too many.  I look over my cabin and see this ship is heading towards me faster than I anticipated. They are so big and that makes it difficult to gauge just how fast they are traveling. I look up and see the word “Princess” in big letters on the side of the boat.  She’s about 1000 feet long and 120 feet wide.  It towers fifteen stories in height and cruises 20 knots, approximately 22 miles per hour and is about to run my ass over. 


Tune in next week for the rest of the story.  Until then, eat fish!  Catch ya on the flip side.

Cordova

Finally, I made it! Now I feel like I can get on with my life. And I no longer have to say “Hi, my name is Jen and I live in a camper….in my boyfriend’s driveway.” Now, I live in a camper in a trailer court. I got my very own spot right on Lake Eyak and everything. It’s beautiful here. I wake up to the morning sun beaming in my windows and look out to see Queen’s Chair in the Heney Range I’m so happy to be back in Cordova, it feels like home.

This winter in Anchorage was good enough and all, I enjoyed having lots of time to write. However, I felt like I put things on hold. I found myself saying things like “I’ll have a job when I get back to Cordova. I’ll be able to hike more when I get back to Cordova. I’ll …(fill in the blank) when I get back to Cordova. I’ll move out of my boyfriend’s driveway when I get back to Cordova.” And, now I can finally stop nix that broken record because I’m back in Cordova!

This past week was pretty hectic, actually, more like the past 10 days. Actually, more like the past month. First, it was a mad rush to get things together to get to Florida. Once I got back from Florida, I hit the ground running after an 11 hour red eye flight. I put my fisherman’s endurance to use and put in 18 hours days, starting at 4 am. I rented out my condo for the summer, so I had to pack up things to bring to Cordova, pack up things to put in storage, pack up the rest for the garage sale, and clean the condo. I never even knew how much crap I had until I have to box it all up! Then it was time to clean the camper, vacuum up the 50 or so flies that sprung to life this spring, then pack up the camper. After that, time for provisions. A sweep or two through town buying all the things that, either I can’t get here in the ‘Dova or that are just cheaper in Anchorage. That entailed getting about 4 months worth of food, beer, and wine, plus new shoes, camper parts (potable anti-freeze, light bulbs, new pooh-pipe, etc) a new BBQ and pink duct tape. Two full days of shopping then we threw it all in the camper and headed to Whittier. The drive was uneventful (unless you were Hunter, my cat. He didn’t dig the truck ride so much) and only one piece of the camper flew off going 60 mph down the road. I couldn’t stop and could only hope I could either replace it in Cordova or it wasn’t important. We discovered later that it was the anti-sway bar, about a $150 item. Good news is I won’t need it here.

For the first time in my life, was early at the Whittier Tunnel, a 2.2 mile tunnel originally built for a train but since has been paved and open twice an hour for car traffic. Since we were early and I had plenty of time for dinner before the ferry for a Buffalo Burger at the Inn at Whittier and a beer. It was a great 12 hour ride across Prince William Sound, it was as flat as a mill-pond. We arrived Cordova on a beautiful blue bird day. It’s always nice to arrive in the sunshine, opposed to arriving in the normal weather, gale force winds and sideways rain. That always makes me wonder what I was thinking but arriving in sunshine make for no regrets.

We got the camper all set up and level with no problems. Ran around town doling out deposits for the all the utilities, met the neighbors (whom I already knew) and settled in. Grabbed Rockfish Taco’s at Baja Tacos and began the greetings and welcome backs. Actually, the greetings began in Whittier before I even got on the ferry, but they hit full swing at Baja Taco. It was there that I found out that I am mentioned in an article in the latest issue (May, 2011) of the magazine National Fisherman, page 18, http://www.nationalfisherman.com/.  The article is called Winter’s chill can’t keep Fisher Poet fans away. There is a picture of me, quotes, and everything! I ran into about 5 people telling me they saw me in the magazine before I got my hands on one. I was beginning to worry if I could continue to show my face, not knowing what the article said!

That’s Cordova for you. It’s great to be in a place where everyone is so friendly and knows you, however you do need to budget that in your time. I was at the post office for 20 minutes before I even made it inside. And that’s is one of the reason’s I love it here so much.

That’s the haps here. Catch ya on the flip side. Until then, eat fish!

Spring Break: Fort Lauderdale, 2011!

Who says you have to be in school to enjoy Spring Break?!?  Granted, last time I was in Fort Lauderdale, I was in school and it was spring break.  The Ohio State Sailing Club drove down here, rented 5 boats, grabbed a bunch of bear and sailed around the Bahamas for a week.  This trip is a bit more mellow than that one was, but Fort Lauderdale is Fort Lauderdale.  Pink flamingos, blue hairs, and HAPPY HOUR!!  Gotta love pool side happy hour.  Happy Hour is one thing we in Alaska don't get to enjoy, strick alcohol rules. But, none of that malarkey here!

And, if you are new to this blog and are wondering what Happy Hour in Fort Lauderdale has to do with commercial fishing in Alaska, I'm here to tell ya.  Absolutely nothing!  But, a gal has to get some vitamin D and red tomatoes before the fishing season starts up next month.

Speaking of fishing, we did a chartered sport boat, paid a few hundred dollars to go flop around in the ocean and get skunked.  We even paid extra for bait. $80 a pound for bait fish!  I'm so in the wrong fishery!  Our $37.95 worth got us jack, and I don't mean a jack tuna.  I mean jack as in we caught jack shit.  Well, we did have a shark on for a bit.  Then the skipper was watching the shark and not where he was going and almost ran us right into the navagational marker.  I mean, really, man, even Jimmy Buffet likes to keep it between the navigational beacons.

We are getting lots of water time here.  There is a system of canals and water taxis http://www.watertaxi.com/.  We took one yesterday and cruised around the city via multi-million dollar homes and yachts.  One yacht, built in Holland, costs a million dollar a meter to build.  That's what, $33,000 a foot?  Wowza.  The water taxis are a good way to get local dirt on all the rich people.  Its like reading People for Fort Lauderdale.  "This person fired all his employees then added on to his mansion, where property taxes alone costs $425,000 a year. " That's almost as much as I make a year (haha, just seeing if you are paying attention, it is April Fool's after all.)  But, the water taxis are a cool way to travel and go grab dinner, shopping or a beer.

view from our room

The canals are right outside our window and from the 18th floor we have a nice view. 

canal where we saw the manatee

Even saw a manatee yesterday, right from the balcony! Go go digital zoom!

manatee from 18th floor

ocean to the east!!

All in all, the 85 degrees temps, the thunderstorms, fresh fruits and veggies, red tomatoes, key lime pie, its all what the doctor ordered.  And not a monent too soon either.  Sure makes break up in AK a bit more bearable.  That's the haps for now, I gotta get down and catch the rest of happy hour.  I'll catch ya on the flip side, until then, eat fish!