XL

I'm down to my days of my overextended youth, staring down the barrel of 39 plus one. A decade where I finally got a hold of some demons and choked them out. I'm far happier now than I was in 2001 although I'd say I'm also not as sharp from being possessed by the spirit of Frank The Tank. I think the last ten years at Tony's has dropped my IQ somewhat but I'll take the peace of mind over a mind in pieces when I was 29.98 years of age.

Still, I'm going out like a college junior. I'm dead serious when I joke I'm an alcoholic. My weight gain has become a community topic. And I'm on-line 98% of the time. Am I in confession? This can't continue.

Anywho, my twenties were fun but at the same time rough and spent my thirties fixing a lot of that. Now the slate is clean for the next X. And ex. Although I do regret trading in my WRX for the STi and not getting a second Seahawks season ticket those pale in comparison to my failed relationships with human females... WARNING: I went to a wedding yesterday so this crap is in my head although I know some people like mushy schmitt. Specifically two. What was different was now I was the dumper instead of the dumpee like my younger years but the results were the same. The second guessing is just 180 and I'm beginning to think there is a salted rim around my cold, blended heart. So hopefully my forties will find some middle ground and be more open to L-word when the opportunity presents itself again before I totally monster out and what was humor on here becomes my actual attitude towards the Earf womens. Perhaps this a whimper for help.

And lastly I hate the say I'm ending this blog for a third time so I won't. But I'd like to to a joint venture instead so I'm looking to form a super group of Rock writers to joining forces with me and make sandinyerface a secondary site in my on-line existence. I'm looking at you, Ishmael.

Burn

I often wondered why 16Volt never had a music video after all these years. Well that changed this summer as they released one they filmed for the song Burn. There is actually a pretty long explanation on the inspiration for the video written by frontman Eric Powell.

Watch it and ask if I should have played the part of the father. I did last night.

They are currently they are touring with KMFDM.

Tender Moments 2011 MORE PICS

Tender Moments 2011

My homie TSA requested I get off my arse and pump out a report on the past sixty days in Da Bay. Since I talked my way out of getting pummeled by a guy from Boston last night at Anthony's Bar and No Grill plus no hangover I have no excuse not to start.

Like last year I didn't take notes and wasn't going to go into every single day taking to picture is worth a paragraph approach again. I took four cameras with me and have close to 1000 pictures and videos to work from.

We left Kodiak June 2nd on a sunny day. One of many that we would miss while getting rocked and windburned in the Nush all summer. Spotted this fancy sailing vessel outside of Ouzinkie.


That's right. Gone two months and short on highlights. I really can't explain how dull this season was. Mind numbing to the tenth degree. But it does get better than just seeing a wind powered yacht.

Once across the Shelikof we had to anchor up a couple times due to weather. One night there was another boat from Homer sitting alone doing the same. We ended up tying up with them (and later towing them), Francisco (pictured) and his crewmember Jason the wannabe organic farmer from back east. Way back east, like Vermont.


So after some delays we finally made it to Sand Point. The Shawnee and our bookkeeper Sweets flew in and joined the excitement of this coastal community. Yeah, heavy sarcasm today, like a f-wording anchor made of lead. But we did hit the Chinese restaurant next to AC for dinner one night, my first time to this establishment. Not bad at all. Ate til I sprained my colon.

It didn't take long to get the Wilghtnee in the water and start making our way to Bay of Bristol. Weather halted our progress at False Pass so we tied up at their fairly newish harbor. Along with the F/V Rebel that started traveling with us we were the only boats mooring there. Kinda spooky. This gave me an opportunity to walk around this tiny community. There was one girl in a car driving back and forth, or cruising, between the dock and the center of town. She went by me eight times and waved every single time. It must suck being the only sixteen year old for a 150 mile radius with 1/2 a mile of road and $10 a gallon gas. After the fourth wave I was beginning to feel uncomfortable.



Gotta have a cemetery shot, right? So once the winds came down we headed up the hill for our spot at the dock in Dillingham and deliver the beer we were transporting for the famed Mud Marshall of Tundra County. If I go back next year I'll say you can NEVER bring enough beer with you since it is twice as expensive as Kodiak up there. We had three cases and a box of wine to combat eight weeks of remote living which if you do the math isn't going to last long. I'm surprised we did as well as we did.

One night at the bulkhead I was talked into pretending I was drunk and going on deck in my underwear to "entertain" some foreigners sitting above. This proves I'll do anything for pizza and a pitcher of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale.

As for actual tendering and what you call work, it was at best slow. Our biggest days came in June and by the 5th of July it was already starting to feel like it was over. This made for quick deliveries but didn't help us gain much sleep until I started taking more turns on the crane and alternating with the skipper. Sweets was hating it as neither of us do the books so the poor mudderphutter was constantly having to get up.


Starting this season we also had to start adding chlorine dioxide to our tanks as the cannery claims to be the last in the bay to use this schmitt. Its like half bleach, half Kryptonite. The vapors from it knocked out the Del the Funky Quality Assurance guy in charge of supplying us with it so we treated it like nerve gas. If there are no fish returning in four years you can point fingers at The Yellow.

We also spent the season in a different area. Our hostile takeover of Nushagak Point was another of the rare highlights as this zone is neck deep in lovely human females. We'd met a few briefly last season but this year we saw them hourly. It pretty much made up for the weather and lack of activity. Believe me, I could go into detail about each and every one of these hotties in their early to mid-twenties but I'm two weeks away from turning 40 and just feel dirty all the time now so I won't reinforce it with more words. And these aren't exactly the sandinyerface slutbags you Triple F* or whateva. They are really nice chicks. The kind you marry, impregnate, and idiotic concepts like that.

And to top of the Summer of Hipwader Hotties not only were we surrounded by small boat beauties and some Serbian cannery eye candy but we got to know the Queen of the Nush on one of the other setnetter tenders a bit better. Last season she started coming out of her shell, or at least the cabin, and in '11 she was a borderline socialite. Every guy who delivered to us knew her name which of course I can not use because she's on something like Stalker Threat Level Orange by now.

But if I had to name one thing that stood out more than any other it was the Eagle Burger at The Duct Tape China Restaurant. This half pound beast loaded with super thin onions, fresh mushrooms and jalapenos, and more bacon than I've ever seen on a patty. Right up there with Umi crunchy sushi and Pegasus pizza. Easily the best hamburger I'ver ever had and with battered fries on the side it was worth the $18 a plate. This burger alone could be the reason I come back for a 20th season in the region next year.

Of course there were the usual characters in the mix this year. Reefer Ray, the Beach Gang, Skin, Bear, Team Dylan, The Olenator, Dougie Heffner, Becker, that Palin kid, and of course Sam.

And like last year the local public library was a savior for sanity although there was one Moore reason to go there as often as possible. It's all about the WiFi as the book selection was geared for the more towards the locals. Hey, I'm not such a bad guy after all!

We finished our season on July 22nd and proceeded to get overintoxicated with some help from a bottle of Canadian Mist I'd stashed in the bow and some local setnetters who still practiced the long lost art of shotgunning beers in the parking lot. Bells were rung, heads awoke hung, there is no pussy at the Willow and we did the Sea Inn til we couldn't see out.

We anchored up in the Wood River on our last night in the bay to get out of the wind and were treated to a display of beluga whales all around us. I think I want to be reincarnated as one. If we were stuck there one more day I think I would have reproduced with one.



One our way back we had to stop in Egigik to get out of the increasingly hostile seas. In all my yeras I'd never been to this place and for some reason it felt like the end. Shaq retired after 19 seasons. Can I? Is it time to break the 39 summers in Alaska streak and try a Junejulyaugust in the city? Is the love affair with Naknek and Friends over?

*find'em, f-word'em, and flee

Catching Death: Hang'em Up

Hang'em up. Couldn't come up with anything better but I'm in a hurry. I need to go get five cases of beer at the liquor store before it closes and I just got done watching the show. We leave tomorrow after a three-day delay. Don't ask.

We start off with the Ramblin' Weasel not feeding the crew for 20 hours. Solution: bring a cook. A feeeeemale cook. That was actually a common position on a boat in dad's day but now it seems everyone takes turns. I make hot dogs. That's my specialty. "Face" says he ain't coming back and if I recall he was the guy at Catchcon scream about how miserable working on that boat was. Ow. But that wave....gnarly. Any wave that hits the wheelhouse windows makes chicks in Kansas vomit.

Red sky at morning, sailors be pornin'. Or something like that. That's one of the first weather things you learn as a child I think if you live on the coast. Whateva.

The phone call about the addicted shipmate. I told you. Bad kitty! Don't f-word around with that schmitt, it always wins. (But I always prefer a 11-month fisherman stuck on crack than a Bristol Bay setnetter addicted to whining) Somehow I think Sir Matt will be back for opies since Edgar is retiring. Not quitting, retiring.

We move to the Time bandit where they show focuses on Justin Tennison who as you probably know was found dead earlier this year in a hotel in Homer. Not sure if they ever gave the cause of death but I think we can suspect drugs. I wonder if he'll be on the fishermen's memorial there as Kodiak has acceptions for those who fish but didn't die at sea on our memorial. Debate your significant other if that's legit.

Scott plays doctor this time and goes kidney stone where I was calling hernia immediately. Need Wild Bill's medical expertise to break the tie. I want to see William make a cameo on House this fall on FOX.

No time to review commercials. Need to get that Rainier.

The Wizard's fighting the current to retrieve his gear but I wonder if he waits five hours will the tide will alter the situation. Since I've never fished in deep water way off shore I know about as much as your girl in Topeka with her dinner spewed all over her shoes.

The Chinese lantern trick was awesome I have to admit. I've wanted to play a UFO prank on Kodiak for as long as I can remember and that was very inspiring. On the bucket list. Couldn't Sig see them on radar and know something was up? Nevertheless I was sincerely entertained by this one. If those guys didn't have more guns than Serbia I'd like to play a Bigfoot prank on them in Seldovia for Punk'd.

Sorry but my alcohol comes before blogging so I'm cutting this short. They finish by naming the crew shares for each boat which is really what matters more than the quota limited crab count. By the crew share standard, the Homersexuals beat out the Northwestern. Math to consider: % > lbs. CM? In the words of the past owner, that's a double f-worder.

OK, this time I'm serious. Laters!

Crab Fest. Humbug.

I'm sure I've posted in the past of my dislike for our five days in May called the Kodiak Crab Festival so I'll keep this short. Thankfully you don't see the word King on there very often as we haven't had a season for those in these waters in about 30 years. Last year we left for Sand Point the day before Crab Fest started so I didn't have a chance to see it take another step back. In a nutshell I'll just repeat the words Wolfboy and I came up during the Golden Era of JOTR.

The Two Rules of Crab Festival
1. Low expectations.
2. Stay drunk.

Even as I type I'm skipping one of the few events I was considering either attending or participating in, El Chi's Taco Eating Contest, but I 1. had a big lunch 2. compare speed eating hard shells to swallowing broken glass and 3. been out the last four of five nights so I feel slower than W in a spelling bee. I'm pulling a Mayweather and ducking this bout with hopes of a License Plate Burrito sprint vs. that Odell kid at another date. OK, I'm ducking him, too.

Before I forget, there is a wet t-shirt contest Saturday at the same location but in this YouTube age is any chick going full Sandinista in front of dozens of iPhone4s and Flip camcorders? I don't think there is enough Patron on the island to take it to the level that engineer girl did a few years ago. Motorboat.

This year I read the carnival rides are ending a day early on Sunday night because of a ferry schedule mix-up. This is being replaced by Retro Monday which looks about as thrilling as killing tofurkys. The frog jumping and the Chad Ogden 42-mile ultramarathon are long gone now and I didn't see arm wrestling on the schedule. Usually I have substitute ideas for events but now maybe this old dog might just needs to be put down.

The food prices are so high it is cheaper to go to a restaurant. In the Anchorage airport. And anyone who claims to really like a Bruin Burger is lying. They aren't that good, its just tradition to have one. It's like watching people line up to take Crab Fest Communion without the wine chaser.

I'm sitting on this "When Al Qaeda of Unalaska puts razor blades in the kids sawdust pile" joke and don't know how to insert it. Help.

At least the rain finally stopped. Just not in my cold heart.

CORRECTION: There was arm wrestling. I just missed it.

Catching Death: Super Trooper? No, The UnPolice!

Flicking channels Monday I unintentionally discovered (pun) a special edition of Orange County Choppers where they combine forces with Deadliest Catch to make a one-time hybrid reality show pukefest. Like dogs humping on the lawn, I couldn't look away.

Now I'm not a fan of OCC, Paul Sr., or even Harleys. Just not my thing. All the yuppies parading around in black leather the last ten-fifteen years pussified the image of riding so much it looks like a joke now. And although I haven't seen the chopper show much I do like Teutul's kids so this whole split thing doesn't work for me. I'd rather see Paul Jr. and whatever his sibling is called on a crabber than pops.

Anywho, they end up flying up to Homer in the winter which is about as much fun a poking yourself in the eye with in icicle. They meet up with the Time Bandit gang at a fishermen's memorial that has a massive white bird turd running down it. I know it is supposed to be reality but at least clean off the sea gull schmitt on the statue for the shot. Have some respect. Yes, I'm hypocritical when it comes to the subject of respect.

From there they take the boat out and go for a cruise to do some scream therapy. One of the OCC guys puts on a gumby suit (or as this recent article calls them, "red suits") and go full frat. My cousin from England is visiting and she made the funniest face when they pulled out the assault rifles and started shooting out the wheel house at who knows what. Bloody hell, what amusing savages! She also took pictures of the guns at Walmart the other day.

After the short trip they come in and the show quickly disintegrates into a Sarah Palin's Alaska knockoff (not to be confused with Sarah Palin's Arizona of course). They go dog sledding, ice climbing, and try fishing from the beach with some poles which I have never seen anyone do that time of year in my whole life. At least Bristol didn't make a cameo to talk about abortion.

And they blow things up. Didn't Discovery start out as a science channel? They really need to have a Time Bandit-Mythbusters show with nothing but C4 and tracer rounds.

In the end they go home and build a two-wheeler in eight days for Catchcon that I got to see up close. The elements of the bike by themselves seem "cool" but altogether look corny. But I'm not a guy who worked in a cubicle for 30 years and dresses up as a Hells Angel on the weekend so what to I know. The Harris boys get some face time and talk about how Phil liked motorcycles. But the question remains...who gets the bike? I say they ghost ride it off the end of the Spit on fire with two inflatable sex dolls filled with acetylene duct taped to the seat. Or give it to Edgar so he can be the captain of something.

So can we get the Tuetul kids to Kodiak to do a response to them thar Hillbillies and their father? I'm serious. And no faked "we're into nature" crap. Straight bar hopping. Maybe stop by Arc & Spark and build a bonfire at the Rodeo Grounds but other than that we Mall Crawl/bar hop...

...which is what I took my cousin out to do Tuesday. Unfortunately the DVR failed to record the show so I had to wait for it to repeat on Thursday. Ironically I saw the Seabrooke crew eating at El Chi's bar that night with the show on the TV above their heads but they didn't appear to be paying much attention to it. Nor was the guy drinking a White Russian at the bar who appeared on the show a few years ago when he went for a swim and ended up on the Homeriods black yacht. Cardinals suck, JW. Then this morning I ran into Dale at Safeway. Oh wait. My bad. He's in two weeks.

So after a 48 hour delay I saw the show tonight with its ominous opening in the darkness and the music in the key of doom (reminded me of Jan Hammer/Miami Vice). I thought Darth Vader was going to come out of the wheel house and force choke the whole crew. Captain D. goes "CSI" and starts searching the engine room which is actually where you go to rub one off after looking at Hustler too long. Or coke do other coke things coke. I'd think stoners are at least wise enough to do that outside but whateva, not my area of expertise. I'm an alcoholic, not a druggie.

Ray finds a seal bomb and congress re-ups the Patriot Act to get Al Qaeda of Unalaska and a bag of lighters. I don't know, man. I don't know many fisherman that don't blaze a J once in a while. It really could have been anybody. The schmitt should be legalized anyway and the zero tolerance laws on boats need to scale back a bit to protect boat owners from idiot crew members. And people are basically smoking pot on the streets of Seattle anymore. High times are a-changing.

Having said all that if I had to side with anyone it would be the skipper. Being out of the game for years and going after the eluuuuuusive blue crab seems like Ditka coming out of retirement and trying to take the Bengals to glory. Not happening. If I had to run a gillnetter in Naknek this summer I'd probably be clueless where to set now and do everything I did in 1999 which might not work anymore. But hey, General Hospital may be gone but these guys made some mudderphuttin' television drama GOLD in just the first ten minutes.

Since I'm seeing this as basically a first run rerun the commercials appear to be different, most notably Maker's Mark. Sorry, but western Alaska is Crown Royal territory. Purple bag > red wax. Wild Bill needs to get that endorsement pronto. And I had trouble counting all the cavemen in that GEICO ad.

The "I Still Love You" bit on the Northwestern was good comic relief for the viewers as well as the crew after the CM soap opera. I still don't think the odds of being a skipper in that fishery are very good, kid. Learn all you can but don't expect to leave that deck for a long time, especially of Sig discovers e-cigs.

Great camera shot of the hook coming at it. Must have been done with a pole I'm guessing. I'm thinking Emmy. And the editors who go over all the hours of film to cut it down to 40 minutes per episode must have Buddha like patience. Maybe they trained doing The Simple Life as that would be boot camp hell for reality show editors I'd think.

Compass direction, miles away, blah blah blah is the F/V Kodiak rolling around and down to three guys on deck but the two missing soldiers find their way back to the deck. Happy happy joy joy.

So is Mattel making replica toys of the boats yet? I'm calling dibs on that idea. OHH OHH OHH....Lego versions! $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ can you picture a Edgar Minfig?

Halfway thru the show we see the Ramblin' Thorn and Darth Elliot takes away breakfast and 'Merica goes batcrap crazy at home. You can take away a man's pride but don'r deny him his eggs and bacon. JC and a side of rice, kid. I think the camera crew saved his life by just being there. They may have come back with TWO missing crab pots if you know what I mean.

OK, superfans. I saw there is a DC Marathon on Memorial Day but seriously, you have the DVDs, you seen every episode in syndication, get out of the house on Monday. Pretend you are on a reality show and there is a camera following you around and you need to make life appear more interesting than it is. Here is your homework. Start a fight. Make soap out of human fat. Build 32 bunk beds in your basement. You get the idea.

Eric Anderson. 32 years in the biz. 50 years old. Tough SOB. I salute you, bro. I found this to be the most interesting part of the program actually just thinking about what his future holds. Fishermen (me) are notoriously bad with financial planning so I wonder where he will be in five years. I still want to know about the guys who lost their jobs when the Crab Ratz program was instituted. Did they go into other fisheries or say to hell with it all and get a land job? Or are they homeless? How did the massive fleet reduction and redistribution of a public resource change real lives?

The show ends with Officer Kelly of the UPD (sounds like a dangerous birth control device) waiting at the dock. Was it me or did he seemed a little nervous about being on camera? I like how he asks the cabbie about "Little Jake". Cab drivers to fishermen are like hair dressers to all womankind. Got mine on speed dial. Your my boy, SuperDave/Cab 4.

After refusing a drug test Jake punishes himself by taking Pen Air. That's some karma right there. They outro with another Bic in the air musical montage moment. If I was a stoner I would have loaded my pipe right there and ordered six pizzas content to pass out on the couch but I'm not and will be heading to Tony's Bar (center of the sandinyerface universe) as soon as I click PUBLISH POST.

So this is very likely my last DC post as I have my orders to depart from da port Sunday for Sand Point. Not sure if I'll pick this back up in the future long after the fresh date has expired on Season 7. I have my own drama to document for the next 100 days. For the new folks here I hope you enjoyed this and for the locals I'll be bitching about Crab Festival for a final post before I go.

Questions? Comments? Kodiak curious? Or just need relationship advice? sandinyerface@hotmail.com