Fish Tales

Can you friggin' believe it?  Some twits from Maine corked me on my own book title.  I saw it in this month's National Fisherman or some fish rag.  We were running, Gordon was driving and all the sudden I yelled some free flowing litany of curse words.  So much the Gordon stopped the boat to see what was wrong. "Someone stole my book title!!!"  Gordon didn't respond, he just reved 'er back up againkept running.  The book, Fish Tales: Sustainable fish, blabla and Recipes or something to that affect is about just that, I guess.  I couldn't bring myself to read the rest of the article, I was too pissed off and assume that they found my blog here and stole my idea.  Oh well, I'm over it now.  I'll just have to come up with a sexier title.  I also decided to nix the idea of putting recipes in my book, thinking now that its just too namby-pamby.  My book will be more gruff-n-X-tra-Tuff than that.  I don't think those guys are even fisherman.  On the flip side, there is a book out, by actual fisherman called "Fishes and Dishes".  These gals, who I met years ago in SouthEast, crab, pot fish cod, tender and whatnot wrote a fishing cookbook.  It can be found at http://www.fishesanddishes.com/.
OK, moving on.  I've been fishing the Copper River Flats since mid May now and the fishery is in full swing.  It's now wide open and we are fishing two 60 hour periods a week.  This is just one of the many changes since I last fished here.  Back then, a 48 hour period was about the longest we would have to endure.  Now, for those of you who have not done the math yet, two 60 hour a week openers puts you at a minimum of a 120 hour work week.  That makes for a grog filled head, to say the least.  And my left pinky does this weird twichy thing which I find very annoying.
Fisherman are never happy, we always have something to wine about.  Not enough fishing time, too much fishing time.  Whatever.  So, we fished our 60 hours, went to town.  Left the next day for another 60 hours.  Went to town for less than 12 hours and went for another 60 hours.  Lack of sleep starts to set in and a sub-humanness starts to take over.  You get this 1000 yard stare.  Tempers flare.  And you start not to care.  Everything rhymes, every time.  Ok, enuf.  Where's my Xtra-Tuff?  But, skipper decided we needed an R&R, go to the bank, and other things we haven't been able to do for weeks.  So we took of yesterday and ran to town.  I got home and found that I literally didn't even know what to do with myself.  I was tired, hungry and is desperate need of a shower.  So the question is, which do you do first?  I didn't know, so I had a beer.  Then I wandered down to my friends house for a shower.  Ran into a fellow fisherman who was done for the season.  He fished Prince William Sound, where they were fishing a 60 followed by a 84.  That leaves 12 hours between openers.  He had had a few days to rest up and regroup.  He understood where I was and offered to make me dinner.  We had this incredible meal of mashed sweet potatoes, tri-tips on the grill, this killer blue cheese and avocado salad and a nice red wine.  Thanks Mark!!  That super hit the spot.  Soon after, I took a 11 hour coma.  When I work I had an amazingly strong cup of coffee and am on my way to reducing my 1000 yard stare.  I think I'm about at the 350 yard line now.  By tomorrow, I should be right as rain.  Just in time to go out and do it again!
But before I go, I want to try to share with you some photos from the Flats. 

Jen and a King Salmon

Fishin' Again

Wowza. Bad blogger. Father, I have a confession, its been 61 days since my last blog. Sorry folks and followers, I fell of the wagon there. And speaking of falling off the wagon, I fell of the wagon of being a recovering commercial fisherman. Yup, I'm fishing again. I knew coming back to Cordova for the summer would be like an alcoholic walking into a bar. Its just too tempting, but, then again, I wanted to be tempted.
I decided to pack up and head over to Cordova for the summer. I figured I could do some net mending and see what happens. I got myself a trailer, filled it to the brim with everything I might possibly need, eat and drink the next 3 months, threw the cat in and took off. I caught the Whittier tunnel with 5 minutes to spare, hopped on the ferry and settled in.
Life has been cozy for me and the cat, Hunter in a 6x12 foot trailer. But all is good. Its at a beautiful location at the base of a ski hill. That's not to say life doesn't have its challenges, honestly, cooking is a pain in the ass, but do-able.
I've been busy mending nets and was on the dock one day mending when a buddy of mine drives up with his boat. He leans out the window and asks "wanna go fishin?" I say "yeah" he says "wanna go Monday?" Again, I say "yeah". And the rest, as they say, is history. That was over a month ago and that's all it took, I've been fishin since.
I'm still mending on the closures and fishing the Copper River Flats twice a week. Fishing is a little slow, but we grind away and make a go of it.
So, that's the haps here. Will have pix soon!

On the Bright Side

When sailing, you have to fly the flag of the country you are from and the country you are in. This is the Mexican flag. As you can see, it has taken a beating and symbolizes how we are starting to feel. Don't get me wrong, sailing is great. But after a while, the salt and sun start to take is toll, on everything. Even my bobbypins are rusting. Plus, it's a lot of work. And life on a boat is work. Things always need to be at least adjusted if not fixed. And things are just starting to wear down, like this flag.

The skiff has a few small leaks and the seats are being held up by tires. We are down to one oar, well, three, technically, since one is in two pieces. The fresh water pump stopped working. The air mattress has a slow leak that's gaining speed. The sails need repairs, the lines are starting to fray, the solar shower fell over board months ago. We've been using a 2 liter Coke bottle with holes in the bottom. And, the worst of all, the coffee situation hasn't been the same since a French gal accidentally deep sixed part of the coffee pot in Panama. Otto dove on it twice to find it, but in 30 feet of murky water on a cloudy day, it was lost to us forever.

We limped along OK with various efforts of making coffee. We found another percolator pot, but it was small and was difficult to use. Sometimes its hard to make coffee before you've had coffee. Then we went with the cone route. We found filters, but no cone. Now we are rolling with cowboy coffee. Where you just throw in a few tablespoons of coffee into water. Shut if off as soon as it boils. That worked OK with the good Costa Rican coffee. But now that we are back in Mexico........We are both staring to feel a bit like this flag. Still flying, but the sun and salt are taking its toll.

So is limited funds. No money equals no fuel. No fuel equals no charging the batteries. No batteris equals no navigational equipment, no lights, no fridge, no toilet, no recharging the ipod. Things are getting skinny here in the Crystal Blue. Lucky for us, its near a full moon so we can run at night without lights. Sorta. When ever we get close to a boat, we run down and turn them on until is passes. Its risky, running without radar at night, but we are betting everyone else is. Besides, men have been sailing thousands of years before it was even invented. And, on the plus side, since the water pump broke, Gary installed a foot pump, so we at least have water again. And we had to use the last of the ice before it melts. Yum. Vodka and Passionfruit Kool-aid coctails. Maybe things aren't so bad after all...........

Pictures

Its a good thing sailing is easier than posting pictures on this blog site! I've tried every approach I can think of and can't seem to get it right. However, I don't want to deprive you, dear reader, of a nice visual experience, so bare with me.

Red Skies at Night, Sailor's Delight

Red Skies at Night, Sailor’s Delight,

And we were indeed delighted to finally be off and sailing again! With only a few minor injuries from pushing the skiff through the surf (mine was very minor, a scrape on the shin, but it left a funny purple scar visible now when I wear a skirt) we were ready to pull anchor. We, as in Gary. That’s his job. He heaved-ho by hand the 35 lb Dansforth anchor and 100+ feet of anchor chain and line. Just in time, too as we could see a black cloud coming our way. Not weather, but soot from burning sugar cane. We motored away just as the black ash started to sprinkle the decks.

We motored out of the anchorage, dodging boats left and right. Clearing the point, we raised the main sail then the jib. Killing the engines, always a moment I savor on any boat, we found our course. A 700 mile straight shot at 359 degrees takes us to Huatulco, Mexico.
Well, the saying “Red skies at night, sailor’s delight” was wrong. It wasn’t long before we were in 25 knot winds with gusts up to 35-40. Lessons learned sailing in a gale:

1. How much power the wind has
2. That it’s all but impossible to steer a 55’ cat into the wind when 1 engine won’t start
3. How much noise a sail makes as its getting ripped to shreds
4. What an accidental jibe is
5. That one will toss a 6’4” man around like a ragdoll
6. That even getting almost launched overboard in gale force winds and 4’ seas still doesn’t cause Mr. Laidback California to lose his cool.

After we got our asses handed to us, we did finally manage to get the main down, and it stayed down for 2 days until it finally let up enough to repair it. Sailing with only a jib didn’t get us very far, but we didn’t have a choice. Once the wind stopped, we raised the main, accessed the damage and got out the repair kit. We had three significant rips to patch up. We worked as quickly as possible so we could finish the necessary mends before the wind picked back up. And the next 8 days were spent with a fully raised main and no wind. While it’s frustrating to sail slower than one can swim, there are some perks. Viewing lots of wild life is one of them. We were practically sailing through turtle soup! We saw about 50 turtles a day, nearly running over most of them. And dolphins by the dozens would come and swim next to the boat. One was an amazing acrobat. It would jump about 10’-15’ out of the water while doing flips! It was quite a show. Another appeared off the starboard side of the boat and spy hopped, which is a slow and controlled movement akin to a human treading water. The dolphin raised and held position partially out of the water, exposing its whole head and look inquisitively at the boat, and perhaps me. We also had a few stowaways of the feathered variety. One even made himself at home down on the chart table for the night. Lets us little presents, too.

Limited money equals limited fuel. Limited fuel equals limited motoring. We sailed as much as humanly possible and only used the motor to charge the batteries of the boat and when absolutely necessary. Like during my 4 AM wheel watch when I had to stare at a red light on the beach that never moved past us after three hours. I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life gawking at the red light. I had to fire up the engines and motor past it. Turns out, we were stuck in a river current and would probably still be there had we relied solely on wind.

Taking a straight shot from Costa Rica to Mexico allowed us to bypass Nicaragua, Honduras, El Salvador, and Guatemala. We wanted to avoid the infamous red tape of entering these countries, especially the Nicaraguan Navy, who will board you and site you for anything and everything. But, we were 60 miles off shore when we passed Nicaragua, so we were safe.
After nine and a half long days of sailing and round the clock wheel watches (OK, we did get to tie the wheel off a few times and both get a nap) we arrived Huatulco, Mexico. Well, we arrived seven miles off shore of Huatulco. Under normal sailing conditions that would take less than an hour. With our lack of wind curse, it took us a maddening eight hours. Finally arriving just outside the harbor, we dropped the sails and fired up the engine to motor in. After docking, we checked our fuel levels and discovered we didn’t have any! We must have motored in on fumes. Later, we had to haul our fuel jugs, by foot, up to the gas station for diesel. Returning to the boat by Taxi with a trunk full of diesel, we lugged them back down to the boat and fueled up for the next leg of the journey.

Entering Mexico in Huatulco is about as pleasant experience as it gets. Instead of running around to various offices, everyone comes to you. We had Immigration, Customs, International Health, and someone government office aboard, all at once! This may sound intimidating, but mostly it was young giggly girls who flirted with Gary as they gave us all our proper stamps and paperwork. The trip to the Port Captain, on the other hand, was a different story as was the usual hassle. Nevertheless, we got all checked in and it felt good to be on land again after almost 10 days of sea.

Huatulco is a tourist town in the southern part of Mexico, in Oaxaca State. Unlike most Mexican towns, Huatulco exhibits signs of city planning and landscaping. It’s freshly groomed, trimmed, and hedged. Almost like a Mexican version of San Diego. After spending a few days exploring, (most of which, I was still rocking) we had our fill of burgers and beer, we grabbed some grub and were ready to take off. We both took one more nap and left at 11:59 PM so we wouldn’t get charged for another day at the marina. And we were off for Zipolite, Mexico!

Sailing North, up the Pacific Coast

After spend about 30 seconds in Anchorage at the end of January, I decided to head back to the tropics. I cashed in my miles account and flew back to Mexico. It was great to be back in the warm and sunny. I visited with my friends, Molly, Eric, and Sully in Puerto Escondido, a hip surf town. Its always fun to see AK friends in other parts of the world. From there, I scooted over to Zipolite a small beach town with yoga. I met some amazing people and did some great yoga. Also got killer massages from Molly. Her place is the top floor of a building right on the beach. One wall, no roof. I actually saw a whale once during one of my massages. Got rained on a lil' bit too, but its all good.

From there, I flew back to Costa Rica to get back on the Crystal Blue Persuasion, the 55' catamaran I'd been sailing on. It was good to be back, though a little deja vu-ish. After a few days of hanging out with Gary, the captain, and prepration, we are ready for our 700 mile sail north to Mexico. Just need the exit papers.

Things happen differently down there. Red tape is an understatement. We were jumping through hoops left and right to get all our paperwork done. First, the Port Captain. No, no no. You need 3 copies of this, three copies of that, you don't need this, you will need that. No you can't make copies here, go across town to the Grocery store. Then you need to go to the bank and pay your exit fee. Immigration, then Customs. Customs is in another town, 45 minutes away. We go to the bank, but its closed because their computers are down. Gary hops of the bus to Liberia, for Customs. He gets back just in time for Immigration. But the office is closed. No info is posted as to when they will re-open. We go back to the bank. Oh lucky day, its open!

We (we as in Gary) row our water-logged skiff back through the surf with the one oar he has left and we go back to the boat for the night. We try again the next day.

Immigration is still closed. I think, hey! Lets go to Immigration in Liberia, otherwise we are stuck here another day. We have to hurry, though, as the Port Captain is closing early today. We just missed the bus. Lets take a cab and catch the bus. There's the bus, catch it! No can do, cabbie wants the whole fare and drive slow. We take a cab the whole way. 15 bucks. We wait in line. Wrong line. We finally talk to someone. No no, can't do that here. Paula will be open today in Coco Beach. Go there. She'll be there at 2 pm. We cab back deflated. Another 10 bucks and 2 hours wasted.

2 pm. No Paula. 2:30, no Paula. 3 pm, finally Paula. Then another boat captain corks us. Slippery bastard. Finally, its our turn. Its 3:45 and the Port Captain closes at 4. And we still have to walk across town to get there. We need this, we need that. No, no. This is no good. Make new copies. No, you can't make copies here, I'm out of paper. (She was literally saying this as she was grabbing a scene of paper!) Go to the grocery store and make new copies. OK, this is fine. Do you have your papers from last year? Do you have your 5th grade report card? No! We don't need those. Yes, you do. No, we don't. OK! OK, fine, these will do. Hey, Gary. Gary? Hey Gary. I'm very thirsty. Very thirsty. Can you go buy me some water? No, not that kind, this kind. No, not that store, go to this store. I'm so thirsty.

Finally, finally, finally, she signs our papers. But, its after 4. OK, come back if the Port Captain's office is closed. We practically run to the Port Captain's office. Closed. But, she will return in just over an hour. We go back to Paula. Oh, yeah. The Port Captain will re-open. She just had to take her son to little league. I can't do anything for you, you'll have to wait for her. We wait. We are so close to finally leaving. We have been at this since 9 am this morning. Well, since yesterday, really. But who's counting? OK, we are. Shit!! We remember high tide and the skiff.

I head back down the beach while Gary waits for the Port Captain. I see the skiff, the tide is up to it already and I'm about 300 feet away. Just then, swoosh! It goes out to see and gets caught in the surf. Then another wave comes crashing over it! Oh no! Its going to be smashed to pieces!! Then how will we get out to the boat? I start running down the beach, all our groceries flopping along with me. I watch, helpless, in horror, as another wave smashes over our skiff.

Just then, I see some local kids dive in after it and retrieve it. Thank you, thank you. Have you seen the oar? Over there? Great. Thanks again. We lost the baler, but that's no big. The skiff is still in one piece. Barely.

The surf is building as Gary comes down the beach, paperwork in hand. Oh, happy day! Finally! We put the groceries in the skiff and can only push it through the surf as we dive under it. Gary scampers aboard, but I don't have the strength and am afraid I'll roll it. I cut my leg in the attempt. Here, just take my shorts, I'll just swim out to the boat. Lets just get out of here!

Finally, finally, after 2 days of running around for paperwork and buying thirsty clerks water, we can pull anchor and leave Costa Rica for Mexico.

Now, the adventure begins!

Pics from the sailing trip (take 3)

Obviously, the proof is in the puddin'. I don't know how to post pics. But, perseverance, my friend. I will try again. If I could just will the text to come first........or figure out how to add the text after I posted a picture. Or, even, figure out how to add anything after I accidentally hit 'preview'. OK, so technology is not my forte, nor my friend right now. Neither is organizing my sock drawer. But hey, I get by.

So pics are of: The Crew. A pirates grave in Isla Mujeres, Mexico. Door knobs, Mexico. Portrait from a Smoker. Mama's of Colon, Panama. Self Portrait in front of the Centennial bridge (formerly known as the Bridge of America). A man relaxing in Roatan, Honduras. Fish delivery in Quepos, Costa Rica. The Centennial Bridge. Beach in Costa Rica. Stowaways. Cleat during a squall. Sails.

So, these photos will be out of order and sans explanatory text, so it is up to you, dear reader, to go that extra mile and put the pieces together yourself. I know I am asking a lot, but I have full confidence that you can handle that task. I know we are used to having everything spelled out for us these days, and it is my job as a writer to make things easy peasy for you. So please forgive me for dropping the ball this one time. Besides, this could be a new adventure for you. But, as I said, I have full confidence in you. More so than I do in myself on figuring out this task. I'm already over it.