Monday, July 7th 2008
It is John The Baptist's birthday so the Russian fleet is tied up at the dock. They also don't fish on Sundays. That would really test my beliefs if I only had two weeks to make most of my money and couldn't fish on three days during that time. Being a Kodiak heathen I don't have that problem.
Eight in the morning and the F/V Valli comes up with Bad Boy Joe who spots the Miller Lite in my hand I found unopened on the back deck I'd left there from the day before. He asks if we have any beer so I toss it to him and he drinks it on the spot. Did I mention it is 8am. Yes, I did. He has a black dude named Walter working for him. Black dudes in Bristol Bay are rare and on boats almost non-existent. The boat was clean for once and Walter talked of how he'd like to get a permit in a few years. He inquires about opportunities in Kodiak. I can't figure out what a hard working and motivated individual is doing on this rum raiding 32 footer but it seems Joe finally found himself a good keeper crew member as opposed to the derelicts who normally haunt that Rawson stern picker.
Walter was fired the next day.
I go back to my bunk and pass out waking a little after noon just when Andrea is there to unload her catch. How I'm I going to get to know her with only five minutes at a time a day? Probably not. To quote Hartford Howie again....
Eight in the morning and the F/V Valli comes up with Bad Boy Joe who spots the Miller Lite in my hand I found unopened on the back deck I'd left there from the day before. He asks if we have any beer so I toss it to him and he drinks it on the spot. Did I mention it is 8am. Yes, I did. He has a black dude named Walter working for him. Black dudes in Bristol Bay are rare and on boats almost non-existent. The boat was clean for once and Walter talked of how he'd like to get a permit in a few years. He inquires about opportunities in Kodiak. I can't figure out what a hard working and motivated individual is doing on this rum raiding 32 footer but it seems Joe finally found himself a good keeper crew member as opposed to the derelicts who normally haunt that Rawson stern picker.
Walter was fired the next day.
I go back to my bunk and pass out waking a little after noon just when Andrea is there to unload her catch. How I'm I going to get to know her with only five minutes at a time a day? Probably not. To quote Hartford Howie again....
Sometimes all a guy needs is hope
Shaved my head but kept the beard going so I can slice some biker bars on my face when I get back.
Back to Sandinistas studies, I conclude I want WR Marques Colston of the New Orleans Saints for my fantasy team but he's probably not going to be on the market come Labor Day/Draft Day. DAMNIT!
Tuesday, July 8th 2008
At midnight we get on the VHF and sing Happy Birthday to Manslut then eat his cake the Shwanee made for him.
After an uneventful docking and taking three deliveries while tied up one of the scales goes down. After switching batteries and pressing buttons randomly like chimps in a pre-orbit experiement it comes back to life. Better to be lucky than good, right?
By noon I get some land time and stroll to Hatfield's Bar to use the public computer. Check my e-mail: 152 messages. Only six from humans. Reply to the Big Carrot and log off. Hit the D&D for lunch and have the Philly Steak sandwich for the first time ever. It was closer to a steak sandwich and I'm not complaining. Barely finished that mammoth meal. Get a D&D tee for Dad. I wish he was here so we could split a pizza and greek salad like we used to.
Kick it into tourist mode and go t-shirt shopping hitting the Red Dog for a new red version. I still have my original one but its starting to flake. They don't have white available this season so I'm glad Randy El snagged me on a couple years ago. For the record, the red Dog shirt is the only red piece of clothing I own and yes, it is because I still hate Wasilla.
Sorry Sarah but yer people aren't very nice and I haven't forgot. From my understanding Soldotna is trying to out a-hole the Mat-Su these days but I'm out of that jock loop. Not my problem.
Back across the Alaska Peninsula Highway to Naknek Trading to find nick nacks. Find a sorta sweet shirt for my nephew that says The Great Land with a bear but is done up like the North Face logo. Pick up a really heavyweight navy sweatshirt and a dark blue hoodless Helly Hanson fleece pullover. Naknek Trading is better than f-wording Southcenter.
I decided I'd extend my time and walk to AC down the road only to find when I get there it is Napa auto parts. Hummmm. Why didn't I notice that on the drive here or remember that from last season. Oh well.
There is this fat, jolly golden retriever escorting me back towards "downtown". I love tundra mutts. They are all overweight, never tied up, don't even have collars, sleep on the side of the road, do what they want, and all friendly. This is what Alaska is. This is what we are slowly losing.
When I get back to the boat the Quality Control kid from the plant is on board. He's part of a block of whiteboys from Utah working for Baywatch. His job is to stick thermometers up salmon arses and write his butt findings on a clip board. Its almost as easy as tendering. He tells us a bit about having to do his Mormon mission next year. He's not exactly thrilled about it.
Floating again we get back to our hole near the Kevalaska barge and knock out 18 drift and 3 setnet deliveries in three hours. BOO YAA! It dawns on my that when you work on a commercial fishing boat you find all other employment kind of slow and boring. Its hard to do other things that will hold yer attention when you are accustom to a touch of danger and fast paced outdoor environment. I actually like being on the Fayette for 24 hours more than The-Job-I-Can't-Talk-About for yer standard eight.
And we always here about the risks but what about the health benefits of manual labor, eating salmon constantly, and being unable to access a tavern? Second to nukes, the cubical might be man's worst invention.
Wednesday, July 9th 2008
Fully loaded I have a license to kill time in the bunk. Here it is well into the second week of good fishing and they still have limits. Not just Baywatch, all the processors. Dear Agent Mulder....
End up getting a full night of sleep and follow that with a nap. Starting to wish we could stay busier. Read US News and World Reports, Newsweek, an old paper, anything I can find. Reading material has become a hot commodity. The F/V Aries had a Playboy on a shelf in their cabin I saw thru the window, would have offered them 50% of my crew share for it. For the articles, for the articles.
The wind is strong and it blows a rubber raft off the roof of the F/V Salmon Berry which has to pull anchor and chase after it. Har har.
Waiting. Thinking. Waiting. Thinking. Start jotting down notes for my resume that will need some updating soon. Its going to be hard to go back to work after this. Last year I felt recharged but this year I've pretty well talked myself into a new future which isn't helping me fire up for the rest of the summer at The-Job-Blahblahblah. Resume ideas turn into life goals and The Last Lecture (very long video) Boss Woman had me watch.
Goals:
1. Attend every Seahawks game, home and road, in one season.
2. Live in a Connex shipping container.
3. Live somewhere different every winter. Be in Kodiak every summer.
4. Sweden.
5. Befriend Drew Carey to get into the Playboy Mansion.
We end up back at the dock for ice and it is really not wise with so little water left. Sure enough we get stuck and the boat starts bumping the bottom. No complaints from the crew. The Shwanee and I look at each other knowing fully well the skipper was far too experienced to let this happen on accident. We decide he must be exhausted even though we got decent sleep today. Its the only thing that makes sense. Jesus speaks to me and tells me to go to the bars.
Heather, the Fisherman's Bar's deckhand doesn't do much for me. Customer service? Huh? Wha?
Hatfield's has some thug lookin' fools in front of the door and I decide I'm not interesting in whatever they are up to and head straight for the Red Dog. Holy schmitt....hotties. One hottie. Two hottie. Three hottie. And Haley. Babe 3 is named Shannon and its her 24th birthday but the sparkling thing on her finger says she's off the market. The other two's status is unknown. Mine is as well. They look pretty and all but for some reason I'd trade now for the five minutes of Andrea time that didn't occur today. Damnit. What's my f-wording problem?
Thursday, July 10th 2008
Before we leave I walk by "J" and he gives me a fist bump. Hang loose, bra. Anchor up at 7am and wait for fellow tender the F/V Cape Karluk to fill up so we can take fish corpses. That comes around 2pm and for some reason it is a steady stream of work. The young guys on the F/V Wild Goose II say they are looking forward to being done soon. After gear swapping with the F/V Lady Tillie we are loaded again. By far it was the most physically demanding day yet really it wasn't jack. I'm seriously out of shape.
Salmon. Its what's for dinner, BIATCH! Watch Spiderman. I have some random thought of hitchhiking across Canada dressed as Boba Fett. Would people pick me up?
Friday, July 11th 2008
The run drops off and we only take 12,000 pounds. Extend arms and make airplane sounds. We have time to make a store run and walk to NT after we fail to get a working truck for the supply run. On our way back we get picked up by Joe and his homie.
Shwanee: "Thanks for the ride, Joe. We'll see you out there."
Homie: "If we don't get arrested."
The Noah comes to visit while the Shwanee and I are painting the upper part of the house. Its nice to see Lil Laura again and she says I'll see ya in October. Getting married? Yup. She's tying the knot with my dad's cousin's son who took my place of the Vanessa when I quit Low Tundra Drifting with my dad in 2002 to do The-Job-blahblahblah. Love at sea. How sweet. And not the only case either as the couple I'm going to marry at the end of July met at sea. Paige was tendering on the boat Cy's would deliver to four years ago and now they'll be cutting cake and swapping gold bands. Anything is possible.
Segway.
Andrea shows up with her auntie Angie who's often along for the ride. Angie always wears a sou'wester hat backwards so she has a super long bill. It occurs to me this looks exactly like the Alutiiq hats I've seen at school when worn like this and I wonder if she does it for this reason or just because it keeps the elements of her face. Or maybe because those hats are hard to wear with a hood as most rain jackets are equipped. Or maybe I have too much time to think about things. Besides the fact I'm crushing on a setnetter I've really come to respect their side of the fishery much more from when I was a drifter. Those skiffs they roll dirty/muddy aren't near as safe as a 32 of course but what I respect the most is the way they all stick together. And they aren't greedy, just fishing families trying to survive while using the month there to reconnect with each other. It would give Norman Rockwell a stiffy.
Not so family oriented, we watch Ferrell's Anchorman. From this point on the Shwanee and I say COMO ESTA, BITCHES, I THINK I ATE YER CHOCOLATE SQUIRREL, and I LOVE CARPET on deck at least twice an hour for the next three days.
Saturday, July 12th 2008
The Good Captain and his OK son can't believe I haven't seen Unforgiven yet so they play Rusty and fire it up. Eastwood is such a bad mudderphutter and Gene Hackman rules but I still like High Plains Driftnetter better. I think I ate yer chocolate squirrel.
Guess who unloads to us at 2am and puts a Jaggerbomb-like skip in my step the rest of the evening? Unknown to me this would be the last time I'd see her before I left. Double damnit.
We have 24,00o on which puts us over 400,000 pounds taken so far this year. Whateva.
As the sunlight increases so does the wind. Manslut tells me its going to blow 60 for the next three days and I'll never make it out (I call BS, advantage El Sandinsita). Fine with me. I've no desire to return to the Rock yet. I have everything I want here: food, a bunk, and a clear mind.
I'm not sure how this escaped me but the F/V Sweet Marie has a topless chick painted on the inside of the stern just below the roller. Motivational tool during hydraulic power roller failure? Does he have a mermaid fetish too?
Me, Myself and Irene.
The wind continues to blow and keeps the setnetters away so I device a plan to hopefully score a date at Peter's Sushi Spot with my favorite woman in hip waders next time I'm in Anchorage this fall. I cross my fingers and put my e-mail address on a sheet of Rite In The Rain paper, then slide it in an empty water bottle.
Sunday, July 13th 2008
The end has come. We take a early morning delivery from the Aries, Hillbilly and a setnetter named Twig. There is some fog but its lifting. Now that it is go-time I'm backing off the wanna stay statements. Tie up to the Natalie-less F/V Beachcomber at the Connie Lou and give the Shwanee instructions for the water bottle on my bunk. Laters, yall.
A cab snags me from outside the office full of other short timers. The guy in the back seat looks so much like Capt. D I do a triple take. Frostheavefrostheavefrostheavesairport. The terminal is on riot alert and I cork some Seattle types in line to check-in for the flight. Lots of sportys taking up space. One of them tells me about getting his 25 limit every day. Good for you, buddy, good for you (sucker). Everything is going too smoothly....
"Ladies and gentlemen, we will be diverting to Dillingham to pick up some people. It is only 17 minutes from here."
She failed to mention we'd sit on the tarmac for almost two hours. Yeah, two hours. Can't say my first visit to The Noosh was a good one.
I spy a Grumman Goose.
The guy behind me yells out we should get free drinks for this extended stay on our arses. Ask and you shall receive, my brother. Beer and wine no charge for the 48 minutes to Big City (but still filled out the "how-can-we-suck-less" card) I didn't know they changed the Alaskan Amber (Alaskan Amber) labels to from tan to red. Looks sharp. But my connecting jet is goner (evil smile).
At customer service there are two agents trying to help half my plane get back to the Outside homes and jobbie jobs. Agent Kimberly is smokin' yum yum hot. I get the other agent and she informs me all Era flights are booked. No way! "You can go at 2pm tomorrow." So be it.
I seek comfort at the Upper One (double Crown&Coke, Sam Adams) and start mobilizing for an evening of post-Bay debauchery. Prince Paul? Check. Randy El? Check. Paul doesn't get off work for a couple hours so I wander around the airport for a bit. Run into one of my Kodiak cabbies who I didn't recognize without his patented satin Starter jacket look. He's on his way to the Philippines but one of his four bags disappeared between Anchorage and Kodiak. How does that happen?
Downstairs by the barbershop I make a quick decision to have a pro take my facial hair off because it will take two days with a razor after three weeks of letting it grow out. No biker bars this time. I haven't sat in a barber chair in 15 years. Seriously. FOX News is on and I ask if he's going to make me watch this crap. He explains he's very conservative and I respond that I'm very liberal. Its a friendly debate and I listen more than argue, mostly about wolf control which doesn't really interest me much. His opinion that most liberals are blacks and women was a good point to pay the man and get back to the Upper One.
(Sam Adams x 2). A dude who works up on Alpine tells me about this pick up he converted to propane and how is Miss Sarah is wise she'll tap that permafrost so we can run the entire state of natty gas. Interesting. I get the Paul call and he informs me Peter's Sushi Spot burned to the ground yesterday. Omen?
I'm not sure why but we end up going to Henry's of Anchorage for a bite. Ricky D. of KRXX fame is managing the place and comes to our table to say Yo. Rock star. I get Crawfish Pie because it isn't Wednesday (pitcher of beer, can't remember what it was).
Back to the Shwanee's house to take a shower. Kind of weird he's not there. In a way I'm not either, my spirit still floating on a 52' Kodiak seiner five days from its homeport. I think of the boats and crews I liked seeing everyday like the RS 76, Tracey Rose, Wild Goose II, most of the setnetters and all the Russians. Those who fought with the Germans in WWII, not so much.
Word scramble: HBUS OC. (Bud Light ∞) Pretty packed for a Sunday night. Catch a full rotation of talent and no disease.
Monday, July 14th 2008
No stand outs. More into my watery 'Merican brewskis than my naked friends on stage. Hook P up with "Ivy" for a song and then go to that schmitty diner I like for a reuben.
Wake up on the couch around 9am and take another shower. We hit Fred Meyer for painkillers on our way downtown so Paul can go to work and I can kill time before my flight. Paris is preggy? Wasn't me. If OK magazine says so it must be true.
Buy a mini tripod for the Flipcam which I end up losing out of my bag hours later on the jet. Damnit. Leave the mall for one of the best stores in the state... ARMY/NAVY. In fact they have a second discount store which I visit first before hitting the real deal. Beats the hell out of Mack's (plus no tacky blimp overhead). Look at some fleece lined jeans for winter but decide to pass because in my mind I'm bailing for the 48 and won't need to be as geared for frostiness as usual. Why do I think about summer all winter and winter all summer? Like the full length Helly Hanson rain coat too but it doesn't have that Grunden's feel of ruggedness so it stays on the hanger.
After a long time browsing the shelves I make my way down the street passing gift shop after gift shop before giving into temptation. Didn't catch the name of it but I've never seen so much worthless crap with big dippers stamped, engraved, and silk screened on it. There was a tourist wearing a moose head hat who looked liked an escaped Special Olympian with a Nikon D60 around his neck. Maybe he will wear it a week from now but I'm betting it comes off his head in five minutes or 50 yards from here. Maybe less if he's married. They should have a Dress Like A Tourist theme party at Koots when the last RV leaves Tok in early September.
I opt for the 7A bus to the airport over a $20 cab ride. This bastard must be cold arse cold in the winter.
I get the pat down treatment by TSA but I can't blame them, lots of people want to touch me. I hear someone call my name but see nobody at first. Its The Playmaker! He's going back from a golf tourney and shows the the awe inspiring power of his MacBook. Down by the gate is Drago who's returning from Egigigigigigigik. Tells me his wolf story. Sounds more exciting than a bear.
With Afognak in site I make my gradual decent from Deck Animal to "Mr. Nick". I don't like "Mr. Nick" anymore. I like Deck Animal.
Back to Sandinistas studies, I conclude I want WR Marques Colston of the New Orleans Saints for my fantasy team but he's probably not going to be on the market come Labor Day/Draft Day. DAMNIT!
Tuesday, July 8th 2008
At midnight we get on the VHF and sing Happy Birthday to Manslut then eat his cake the Shwanee made for him.
After an uneventful docking and taking three deliveries while tied up one of the scales goes down. After switching batteries and pressing buttons randomly like chimps in a pre-orbit experiement it comes back to life. Better to be lucky than good, right?
By noon I get some land time and stroll to Hatfield's Bar to use the public computer. Check my e-mail: 152 messages. Only six from humans. Reply to the Big Carrot and log off. Hit the D&D for lunch and have the Philly Steak sandwich for the first time ever. It was closer to a steak sandwich and I'm not complaining. Barely finished that mammoth meal. Get a D&D tee for Dad. I wish he was here so we could split a pizza and greek salad like we used to.
Kick it into tourist mode and go t-shirt shopping hitting the Red Dog for a new red version. I still have my original one but its starting to flake. They don't have white available this season so I'm glad Randy El snagged me on a couple years ago. For the record, the red Dog shirt is the only red piece of clothing I own and yes, it is because I still hate Wasilla.
Sorry Sarah but yer people aren't very nice and I haven't forgot. From my understanding Soldotna is trying to out a-hole the Mat-Su these days but I'm out of that jock loop. Not my problem.
Back across the Alaska Peninsula Highway to Naknek Trading to find nick nacks. Find a sorta sweet shirt for my nephew that says The Great Land with a bear but is done up like the North Face logo. Pick up a really heavyweight navy sweatshirt and a dark blue hoodless Helly Hanson fleece pullover. Naknek Trading is better than f-wording Southcenter.
I decided I'd extend my time and walk to AC down the road only to find when I get there it is Napa auto parts. Hummmm. Why didn't I notice that on the drive here or remember that from last season. Oh well.
There is this fat, jolly golden retriever escorting me back towards "downtown". I love tundra mutts. They are all overweight, never tied up, don't even have collars, sleep on the side of the road, do what they want, and all friendly. This is what Alaska is. This is what we are slowly losing.
When I get back to the boat the Quality Control kid from the plant is on board. He's part of a block of whiteboys from Utah working for Baywatch. His job is to stick thermometers up salmon arses and write his butt findings on a clip board. Its almost as easy as tendering. He tells us a bit about having to do his Mormon mission next year. He's not exactly thrilled about it.
Floating again we get back to our hole near the Kevalaska barge and knock out 18 drift and 3 setnet deliveries in three hours. BOO YAA! It dawns on my that when you work on a commercial fishing boat you find all other employment kind of slow and boring. Its hard to do other things that will hold yer attention when you are accustom to a touch of danger and fast paced outdoor environment. I actually like being on the Fayette for 24 hours more than The-Job-I-Can't-Talk-About for yer standard eight.
And we always here about the risks but what about the health benefits of manual labor, eating salmon constantly, and being unable to access a tavern? Second to nukes, the cubical might be man's worst invention.
Wednesday, July 9th 2008
Fully loaded I have a license to kill time in the bunk. Here it is well into the second week of good fishing and they still have limits. Not just Baywatch, all the processors. Dear Agent Mulder....
End up getting a full night of sleep and follow that with a nap. Starting to wish we could stay busier. Read US News and World Reports, Newsweek, an old paper, anything I can find. Reading material has become a hot commodity. The F/V Aries had a Playboy on a shelf in their cabin I saw thru the window, would have offered them 50% of my crew share for it. For the articles, for the articles.
The wind is strong and it blows a rubber raft off the roof of the F/V Salmon Berry which has to pull anchor and chase after it. Har har.
Waiting. Thinking. Waiting. Thinking. Start jotting down notes for my resume that will need some updating soon. Its going to be hard to go back to work after this. Last year I felt recharged but this year I've pretty well talked myself into a new future which isn't helping me fire up for the rest of the summer at The-Job-Blahblahblah. Resume ideas turn into life goals and The Last Lecture (very long video) Boss Woman had me watch.
Goals:
1. Attend every Seahawks game, home and road, in one season.
2. Live in a Connex shipping container.
3. Live somewhere different every winter. Be in Kodiak every summer.
4. Sweden.
5. Befriend Drew Carey to get into the Playboy Mansion.
We end up back at the dock for ice and it is really not wise with so little water left. Sure enough we get stuck and the boat starts bumping the bottom. No complaints from the crew. The Shwanee and I look at each other knowing fully well the skipper was far too experienced to let this happen on accident. We decide he must be exhausted even though we got decent sleep today. Its the only thing that makes sense. Jesus speaks to me and tells me to go to the bars.
Heather, the Fisherman's Bar's deckhand doesn't do much for me. Customer service? Huh? Wha?
Hatfield's has some thug lookin' fools in front of the door and I decide I'm not interesting in whatever they are up to and head straight for the Red Dog. Holy schmitt....hotties. One hottie. Two hottie. Three hottie. And Haley. Babe 3 is named Shannon and its her 24th birthday but the sparkling thing on her finger says she's off the market. The other two's status is unknown. Mine is as well. They look pretty and all but for some reason I'd trade now for the five minutes of Andrea time that didn't occur today. Damnit. What's my f-wording problem?
Thursday, July 10th 2008
Before we leave I walk by "J" and he gives me a fist bump. Hang loose, bra. Anchor up at 7am and wait for fellow tender the F/V Cape Karluk to fill up so we can take fish corpses. That comes around 2pm and for some reason it is a steady stream of work. The young guys on the F/V Wild Goose II say they are looking forward to being done soon. After gear swapping with the F/V Lady Tillie we are loaded again. By far it was the most physically demanding day yet really it wasn't jack. I'm seriously out of shape.
Salmon. Its what's for dinner, BIATCH! Watch Spiderman. I have some random thought of hitchhiking across Canada dressed as Boba Fett. Would people pick me up?
Friday, July 11th 2008
The run drops off and we only take 12,000 pounds. Extend arms and make airplane sounds. We have time to make a store run and walk to NT after we fail to get a working truck for the supply run. On our way back we get picked up by Joe and his homie.
Shwanee: "Thanks for the ride, Joe. We'll see you out there."
Homie: "If we don't get arrested."
The Noah comes to visit while the Shwanee and I are painting the upper part of the house. Its nice to see Lil Laura again and she says I'll see ya in October. Getting married? Yup. She's tying the knot with my dad's cousin's son who took my place of the Vanessa when I quit Low Tundra Drifting with my dad in 2002 to do The-Job-blahblahblah. Love at sea. How sweet. And not the only case either as the couple I'm going to marry at the end of July met at sea. Paige was tendering on the boat Cy's would deliver to four years ago and now they'll be cutting cake and swapping gold bands. Anything is possible.
Segway.
Andrea shows up with her auntie Angie who's often along for the ride. Angie always wears a sou'wester hat backwards so she has a super long bill. It occurs to me this looks exactly like the Alutiiq hats I've seen at school when worn like this and I wonder if she does it for this reason or just because it keeps the elements of her face. Or maybe because those hats are hard to wear with a hood as most rain jackets are equipped. Or maybe I have too much time to think about things. Besides the fact I'm crushing on a setnetter I've really come to respect their side of the fishery much more from when I was a drifter. Those skiffs they roll dirty/muddy aren't near as safe as a 32 of course but what I respect the most is the way they all stick together. And they aren't greedy, just fishing families trying to survive while using the month there to reconnect with each other. It would give Norman Rockwell a stiffy.
Not so family oriented, we watch Ferrell's Anchorman. From this point on the Shwanee and I say COMO ESTA, BITCHES, I THINK I ATE YER CHOCOLATE SQUIRREL, and I LOVE CARPET on deck at least twice an hour for the next three days.
Saturday, July 12th 2008
The Good Captain and his OK son can't believe I haven't seen Unforgiven yet so they play Rusty and fire it up. Eastwood is such a bad mudderphutter and Gene Hackman rules but I still like High Plains Driftnetter better. I think I ate yer chocolate squirrel.
Guess who unloads to us at 2am and puts a Jaggerbomb-like skip in my step the rest of the evening? Unknown to me this would be the last time I'd see her before I left. Double damnit.
We have 24,00o on which puts us over 400,000 pounds taken so far this year. Whateva.
As the sunlight increases so does the wind. Manslut tells me its going to blow 60 for the next three days and I'll never make it out (I call BS, advantage El Sandinsita). Fine with me. I've no desire to return to the Rock yet. I have everything I want here: food, a bunk, and a clear mind.
I'm not sure how this escaped me but the F/V Sweet Marie has a topless chick painted on the inside of the stern just below the roller. Motivational tool during hydraulic power roller failure? Does he have a mermaid fetish too?
Me, Myself and Irene.
The wind continues to blow and keeps the setnetters away so I device a plan to hopefully score a date at Peter's Sushi Spot with my favorite woman in hip waders next time I'm in Anchorage this fall. I cross my fingers and put my e-mail address on a sheet of Rite In The Rain paper, then slide it in an empty water bottle.
Sunday, July 13th 2008
The end has come. We take a early morning delivery from the Aries, Hillbilly and a setnetter named Twig. There is some fog but its lifting. Now that it is go-time I'm backing off the wanna stay statements. Tie up to the Natalie-less F/V Beachcomber at the Connie Lou and give the Shwanee instructions for the water bottle on my bunk. Laters, yall.
A cab snags me from outside the office full of other short timers. The guy in the back seat looks so much like Capt. D I do a triple take. Frostheavefrostheavefrostheavesairport. The terminal is on riot alert and I cork some Seattle types in line to check-in for the flight. Lots of sportys taking up space. One of them tells me about getting his 25 limit every day. Good for you, buddy, good for you (sucker). Everything is going too smoothly....
"Ladies and gentlemen, we will be diverting to Dillingham to pick up some people. It is only 17 minutes from here."
She failed to mention we'd sit on the tarmac for almost two hours. Yeah, two hours. Can't say my first visit to The Noosh was a good one.
I spy a Grumman Goose.
The guy behind me yells out we should get free drinks for this extended stay on our arses. Ask and you shall receive, my brother. Beer and wine no charge for the 48 minutes to Big City (but still filled out the "how-can-we-suck-less" card) I didn't know they changed the Alaskan Amber (Alaskan Amber) labels to from tan to red. Looks sharp. But my connecting jet is goner (evil smile).
At customer service there are two agents trying to help half my plane get back to the Outside homes and jobbie jobs. Agent Kimberly is smokin' yum yum hot. I get the other agent and she informs me all Era flights are booked. No way! "You can go at 2pm tomorrow." So be it.
I seek comfort at the Upper One (double Crown&Coke, Sam Adams) and start mobilizing for an evening of post-Bay debauchery. Prince Paul? Check. Randy El? Check. Paul doesn't get off work for a couple hours so I wander around the airport for a bit. Run into one of my Kodiak cabbies who I didn't recognize without his patented satin Starter jacket look. He's on his way to the Philippines but one of his four bags disappeared between Anchorage and Kodiak. How does that happen?
Downstairs by the barbershop I make a quick decision to have a pro take my facial hair off because it will take two days with a razor after three weeks of letting it grow out. No biker bars this time. I haven't sat in a barber chair in 15 years. Seriously. FOX News is on and I ask if he's going to make me watch this crap. He explains he's very conservative and I respond that I'm very liberal. Its a friendly debate and I listen more than argue, mostly about wolf control which doesn't really interest me much. His opinion that most liberals are blacks and women was a good point to pay the man and get back to the Upper One.
(Sam Adams x 2). A dude who works up on Alpine tells me about this pick up he converted to propane and how is Miss Sarah is wise she'll tap that permafrost so we can run the entire state of natty gas. Interesting. I get the Paul call and he informs me Peter's Sushi Spot burned to the ground yesterday. Omen?
I'm not sure why but we end up going to Henry's of Anchorage for a bite. Ricky D. of KRXX fame is managing the place and comes to our table to say Yo. Rock star. I get Crawfish Pie because it isn't Wednesday (pitcher of beer, can't remember what it was).
Back to the Shwanee's house to take a shower. Kind of weird he's not there. In a way I'm not either, my spirit still floating on a 52' Kodiak seiner five days from its homeport. I think of the boats and crews I liked seeing everyday like the RS 76, Tracey Rose, Wild Goose II, most of the setnetters and all the Russians. Those who fought with the Germans in WWII, not so much.
Word scramble: HBUS OC. (Bud Light ∞) Pretty packed for a Sunday night. Catch a full rotation of talent and no disease.
Monday, July 14th 2008
No stand outs. More into my watery 'Merican brewskis than my naked friends on stage. Hook P up with "Ivy" for a song and then go to that schmitty diner I like for a reuben.
Wake up on the couch around 9am and take another shower. We hit Fred Meyer for painkillers on our way downtown so Paul can go to work and I can kill time before my flight. Paris is preggy? Wasn't me. If OK magazine says so it must be true.
Buy a mini tripod for the Flipcam which I end up losing out of my bag hours later on the jet. Damnit. Leave the mall for one of the best stores in the state... ARMY/NAVY. In fact they have a second discount store which I visit first before hitting the real deal. Beats the hell out of Mack's (plus no tacky blimp overhead). Look at some fleece lined jeans for winter but decide to pass because in my mind I'm bailing for the 48 and won't need to be as geared for frostiness as usual. Why do I think about summer all winter and winter all summer? Like the full length Helly Hanson rain coat too but it doesn't have that Grunden's feel of ruggedness so it stays on the hanger.
After a long time browsing the shelves I make my way down the street passing gift shop after gift shop before giving into temptation. Didn't catch the name of it but I've never seen so much worthless crap with big dippers stamped, engraved, and silk screened on it. There was a tourist wearing a moose head hat who looked liked an escaped Special Olympian with a Nikon D60 around his neck. Maybe he will wear it a week from now but I'm betting it comes off his head in five minutes or 50 yards from here. Maybe less if he's married. They should have a Dress Like A Tourist theme party at Koots when the last RV leaves Tok in early September.
I opt for the 7A bus to the airport over a $20 cab ride. This bastard must be cold arse cold in the winter.
I get the pat down treatment by TSA but I can't blame them, lots of people want to touch me. I hear someone call my name but see nobody at first. Its The Playmaker! He's going back from a golf tourney and shows the the awe inspiring power of his MacBook. Down by the gate is Drago who's returning from Egigigigigigigik. Tells me his wolf story. Sounds more exciting than a bear.
With Afognak in site I make my gradual decent from Deck Animal to "Mr. Nick". I don't like "Mr. Nick" anymore. I like Deck Animal.
FROM ALL OF US AT CHANNEL 9, GO F-WORD YERSELF SAN DIEGO
