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.
  

Green Eyes

First off, I have to apologize for the wonky blue and pink colors on my blog.  I don't know what's going on, they just showed up one day, but, not to worry, I have my IT department (AKA, me) on it.   Now, to our regularly scheduled PickFish Tales.

Green Eyes!

            Its 7:30 in the morning.  My feet are on the gunnels and I’m pulling my net in by hand with all my guts.  It’s like a game of tug a war.  First, I pull.  Then, I get pulled.  My deck and reel are full with green eyes.  I can hardly even stand up. Their spikes are everywhere.  They stink and slither all over.  Then Phil shows up and says “Watchya doin’?”

            It’s a nice calm morning on the Flats.  No wind, just the lazy but ever present ocean swell.  I decide to open on the beach.  Drug Beach.  Drug Beach got its name because it is between Grass Island and Kokinhenik or Koke, for short.  Hence, Drug Beach.   It was slack water, the right stage of the tide to make a beach set for it will be a while before breakers start to show.  I was in 7 feet of water and was hoping to catch a few kings.

            I had lots of room, meaning not too many boats were around.  This is not usually the case on the beach.  I was kind of excited to be here.  It isn’t very often I get to set on the beach.  Usually the weather is too bad or it’s too crowded or there are breakers.  Or all three.   

            The fishing period started off just like any other.  The clocked ticked 7 am and I threw my buoy over.  Slap!  It hit the water.  I throw the boat in reverse and start to set out my net.  It backs up almost in increments as it stops momentarily with each swell.  Moments later my net is out without any glitches.  “Easy money” I say to myself.  I’m in a good mood because it’s such a nice day.  I go inside and cut the engine.  “Ah, silence”.  I make a cup of coffee and check in on the radio.   Curly and Phil are near me, though I don’t see them.  Bill is still running and hasn’t set yet.  I could never stand that.  At 7 am I’d have to set my net no matter where I was.  But Bill has more patience than me.

            I’m sitting in my skipper’s chair with my foot propped up on my wall.  I’m enjoying my coffee while it’s still hot, chatting on the radio.  I’m happy.  Life is good.  I’m ready to relax a bit and have some breakfast.  I see a cork bob.  “Fish on!” I yell………..to myself.  I smugly report on the radio to the group that I’m getting a few.  I see another cork move.   And another.  Its 7:07.  My net has only been out 7 minutes and I’m in ‘em! I say this in code on the radio.  Bill asks where I am as he is going to head this way for his first set.

 But wait a minute.  What is that I see?  My cork’s are not bobbing up and down, the tell tale sign of catching kings.   They are shimming back and forth, the tell tale sign of catching green eyes.  “Shit!” 

            I sit up straight and fire up the engine.  I slam down my hot coffee and hop into my raingear and burst out the door.  I start to pick up my net, just to make sure what I’m catching.  I get a red.  “Shew”.  And another.   I get my hopes up again.  Then one comes aboard.  Green eyes.  “Ugh” I say in disgust.  Then another.  And another.   I run back in and hop on the radio “Green eyes! Green eyes!  Green eyes!” on our channel so the other’s have a heads up.  I don’t wait for response, I don’t have time.  I rush back out on deck.  I throw the boat in reverse and start hauling in my net as fast as I can.  I have to get my net out of the water as quickly as possible before it gets full of these retched fish.  A school of these hell creatures can sink a net.  Bye bye thousands of dollars.  Plus loss fishing time.  Bye bye more thousands of dollars.

            I rev up the engine a bit while in reverse.  I also need to get the net as tight as possible on the reel so the whole thing will fit since I’m leaving the green eyes in there.  They are extremely difficult to pick out of the net when they are alive.  Besides, it takes too long to pick them out.  The longer my net is in the water, the more of these things I get.  I do try to pick out the occasional salmon tough.  Leaving them on the reel is poor quality control.  They get all mushy like hamburger.

            I get about two thirds of my net in and my reel is full.  “Shit!”  I have to pull the rest in by hand. 

That's all the time we have for today.  Tune in next week for the rest.

 I'm out.