June 17: Mother Nature on a bender

Even though Mother Nature has spent the past few days reminding us who's boss, still, we've come out with more going right (eventually) than wrong.

The morning started with a surprise – we expected a high tide. We took the trucks to high ground, parked the four-wheeler and ranger “up,” and everything was tucked up against the base of the cliff… but the tide was higher! This photo shows the effect of the tide on the bank - it washed away much of it from under the stairs. It isn't that the tide was half way up the cliff - I don't think it was - but it washed out the clay from the bottom couple of feet, undercutting the upper part of the cliff, so it followed in a crumble. It also washed away the bank under the ranger and it swept the big totes down the beach, taking the lid off one and putting it into the nets of one of our neighbors,

and it emptied three of our net bags, stretched the nets out a bit along the tideline and rolled it back and forth, mixing in an abundance of branches (big and small), a variety of tundra, as well as board with nails and a whole pallet with nail heads partially sticking out. It was a long, wet job getting it straightened out.

Roger and AJ worked on untangling one of the nets, Rohan and I worked on the other while David, Jake, and Jeff tended the nets. We're getting a few fish - about average for this time of the season. The time has gone past for the season to be ridiculously early, but it is still possible for it to be early. We'll have a better indication of that by Friday.

The high ground that the ranger was parked on was swept away from under it… so it wasn’t on high ground any more. Luckily, the ranger’s engine is high and its running parts are strong – probably not as resistant to the corrosive effects of salt water as I think they are, but more resistant than, say, my Honda Fit at home would be. The huge clump of tundra that AJ muscled the four wheeler onto the night before was unaffected by the high tide, so that was OK.

As I started to write this, I realized that we may have lost some lines – I had gathered up four that had been swirled by an earlier tide, tied them up and tossed them up higher on the bank, but that cliff was part of what washed away under the stairs. I drove along the beach on the four-wheeler and found two of the four lines that were washed away, in addition to another that came our way from somewhere else.

When David's crew hopped into the Grayling to get out to the nets, they couldn't get the 45 HP Evinrude started. Grrrr. I’m pretty sure that much swearing ensued as the efforts increased, but the success didn’t. So David went over to start on the inside site on foot while Jeff and Jake came to dig the rowboat out from under the water and tundra that swamped it in the high tide, and recover the paddles which also had been carried off by the high tide. Their goal was to row out to the Ambi, nearer than the Bathtub. They tried to row straight out, against the wind and current and wore themselves out staying in one place. David saw the folly and called them in and over to pull out on the running line (yep, the same running line that I don’t want to retire – I think this makes the 4th thing I want the running line for), and then paddle to the Ambi. Success. They ran to the Bathtub because it is so much easier for three people to use, especially in rough weather like we've been having… and found it shin deep in water – just from the rain. That helped us develop the new policy of checking on each boat each tide whether we use it or not.

We were still untangling the nets when they brought in the 23 salmon from the tide (“It’s starting,” said Rohan, optimistically) so we all worked together to recover from our insufficient preparation and increase our preparation for tonight’s tide. That included taking the ranger down to where we park the trucks on very high tides and after attempts to move the four wheeler higher on the cliff (attempts that ended with the four wheeler on its side and no one hurt) we also moved it up to the trucks' parking area.

After all this, it was a perfect day for corned beef hash and poached eggs. It’s the perfect combination of salty, fatty, crunchy, and comforting. Right now, I’m feeling like I won’t have to eat for another week.

At lunch, I asked the question I’ve been thinking about for a while: if Jake didn’t come in on the flight I was expecting him on, why did I continue to get alerts about that flight? David was sure he had canceled the ticket I bought when he purchased the one Jake used, so why did I still get alerts that directed me to pick Jake up hours after he arrived? It meant a call to Alaska Airlines. It was hard to figure out, but we finally found all the ticket numbers that made it clear that unless Jake was expected to take two flights from Seattle to King Salmon that day, both bought on the same day, a miscommunication had occurred that resulted in an unused very expensive ticket. Alaska Airlines didn’t argue or complain about just refunding the whole value of the ticket, but it did take us all a lot of effort to figure out what had happened and required the correct answer to the question: “Where is Jake now?” (Answer: “Right in front of me, here in Naknek, down the road from King Salmon.”) Once it was clear what happened, they were downright cheerful about making the refund. I appreciated that.

I also got in touch with Alaska Mining and Diving to ask why they hadn’t asked me about the length needed for the throttle and shift cables – and happily, they were about to call and ask those very questions. Yay. I asked Roy to measure and to talk to them to be sure we got what we needed, since he was the guy who would be putting it all together and making sure it would work. So we’re a few steps closer to having a functioning New Boat. I did contact Northern Air Cargo yesterday as well as Ace Cargo and learned that Ace is pretty backed up. NAC will cost about $100 more to ship the outboard to us, but it’ll come out on the next flight after they receive it. So I’m hoping for Thursday or Saturday.

The Ambi crew was planning to go out on the ebb only, but we got a call from Harry saying he had just picked up a few fish and urged us to check the nets at high water. So we hurried out there and indeed, there were a few. Here are AJ, Rohan, and Roger. This is a training week for AJ and brushing the dust off for the rest of us.

When we went out, the weather seemed (momentarily) temperate - but really, it was that brooding feeling right before a big storm. And indeed, we got the big storm - it deposited about 4" of water into the Bathtub in about an hour.

But after, we had some very shiny conditions and a breathtaking full spectrum rainbow. Here is the photo - note the width of the rainbow relative to the size of the cabin.

Getting out there before high water also allowed us to deliver to the Jacqueline W for the first time this season, getting AJ a little more accustomed to the routine. This photo shows the Jacqueline W waiting for us to deliver, while Rohan and AJ are reaching for the corkline to pull the net up over the bow of the skiff.

We came in after the flood pick - we were all hungry. A seal had raked one of the salmon, and David had saved one out from this morning's tide, so we made quick work of cooking them like my mom used to - breading with equal parts flour and cornmeal plus a few herbs and spices, and then frying them in hot oil. Our crew had no problem finishing off those two salmon. Let's see... four sides divided by seven people = a little more than half a side per person. About right for us. Each crew has its own way of marching through food - and its own tastes and preferences. It takes a while to get the hang of each one.

While we were in, I couldn't resist this photo that I think does a pretty good job of showing the moodiness of the day.

We got back out to find about half as many fish on the ebb as on the flood. Poor Roger - we reached the Ambi together, both of us at about the height of our waders and the gunwale of the skiff well over my head. I think the guys could pull themselves in from there - I don't know how - I think it defies a few laws of physics. But I know I can't. So I asked Roger to boost me. Ever gallant, he got me by the waist and at the count of three... he shrieked! And lifted me at the same time. At the top of our waders, when Roger bent his knees in preparation for boosting me, he took a load of the eastern-most arm of the Bering Sea right into his waders. I would've shrieked too... except that I was lying over the gunwale, too disabled by laughter for a half a minute or so to pull myself the rest of the way in.

We went through the nets and anchored the boats as far in as we could, still keeping them out of "swamping territory" on the beach. I handed Roger the camera and went out to check the anchor on the Bathtub - Rohan had noticed that it didn't look quite right. I definitely appreciate it when other people on the crew are scanning for little things that may become big things later.

One of those things - not so little - was where the Grayling was anchored. We have three basic levels of beach: sand, rock, and clay within about 70' of the bluff, then a thin strip of sand that is about 20'-30' deep, then about 500' of very very sticky and deep mud that goes from its border with the sand to and sometimes beyond the outside end if the inside sites. It feels vast and unending when we're walking through it - and when I was young, when we were packing fish through it: four on each hand (until the pinky gave up and dropped the fish).

Generally it's safe to drive a vehicle on the rocks and sand, including the strip of sand between the rocky part of the beach and the mud. But it's not a good place to anchor skiffs. When there's a wind - and we've had a brutal wind lately - it is very likely that a skiff anchored there will swamp. So I asked Jordan who is driving the Gehl (the giant forklift in the photo) if he could pull the Grayling out a little, though I knew he couldn't get it all the way to the mud where it would almost certainly be safe. He helpfully and happily agreed and began towing backward, turning to direct the skiff a little farther out... and got stuck. In the sandy part! This photo shows Mike in the deuce and a half (I think that refers to a 2 1/2 ton truck) preparing to tow Jordan out. The skiff was a little safer, and we walked the anchor as far out as we could get it. Mike pulled Jordan free and we set about preparing for a swamp by removing gas cans and other lose objects from the skiff. We considered removing the outboard, but we didn't have any place to put it, with the trucks already on high ground.

We put everything we could up higher yet, flipping over the rowboat so that the water wouldn't pour into it or lift it. When it's tipped over, the water usually just hammers the bottom and then gives up. And with a sunset like this, could it really get bad by the next morning?

June 18: Rohan's birthday, Sarah arrives!

Despite the two excellent events of the day - Rohan's birthday and Sarah's arrival, it was a very hard day. It has been raining hard for a long time now so that we see standing water on the tundra and the deep truck tracks on the beach are filling with water... and holding it. That's on the beach that's no stranger to water. Little springs are spouting out of the bluff and it's sloughing off, depositing yet more sticky clay onto the wet part of the beach, eventually to be distributed to the muddy part of the beach to give us a work out as we slog between the beach and the outside sites.

I was the first one up and, as is my habit, I walked over to the cliff to see what had happened with the previous tide. Even though we took pains to prepare this time, lots had happened. The rowboat was gone, even though we flipped it over and leaned it against the cliff and I could see that as we had anticipated the night before because of where the Grayling was anchored, it had water in it and was wallowing, though it wasn't swamping and the tide was falling... so I thought it would be OK. Besides, we didn't have a rowboat and the water was too deep to get out to it, so I decided not to disturb the crew. That was the first mistake of the day. (It seemed pretty early for a mistake, but that was the kind of day it turned into.) Even though they couldn't have reached it staying dry, it may have made sense to wade out and get wet, or at least watch it closely and be ready to wade out and get wet... or bring down the old rowboat... or something that one of them might have thought of. In any event, it was a mistake not to involve them immediately.

I began to head north, in the direction the tide would have taken the rowboat, noticing that the Williams' skiff that had been tucked up against the cliff by their cabin... with the anchor out! had dragged that anchor all the way down the beach to come to rest about 1500' away from where they had anchored it. I realized that we were lucky it didn't hook onto our stairs on the way past, and take them with it. Walking in the direction of the stuff we needed to retrieve, I realized that I needed a vehicle so that if I found the rowboat and its accessories (like seats and paddles) I could bring it home. So recognizing my second mistake of the first 15 minutes I was up, I turned around and started walking south, toward the four-wheeler.

I rode past the Grayling again and it still seemed like it would make it, though it was struggling. So the third mistake of the morning was to still not rouse the crew on the second pass.

However, I found lost rowboat pieces, paddles first. I immediately tried to remember what was wrong with our old rowboat in case the lost rowboat was well and truly lost but happily, the lost rowboat was just a little beyond the Williams' skiff with only one leak that I could see (from a loosened bolt that, we discovered, could just be tightened). The coffee can in the photo is the bailer I borrowed from the Williams. Towing the rowboat back to our stairs, I scanned the base of the cliff, all tumbled in broken bits of tundra, for the two seats that hadn't stayed with the rowboat... and it felt a little like a miracle when I found them - in the lee of the Williams' skiff, as if it had been protecting them. Now that we had all the pieces, it was a matter of putting it all back together.

It was on the trip bringing the rowboat back that I finally recognized that I was wrong to assume that the Grayling would be OK since the tide was falling. It needed the crew's help. The outboard wasn't submerged but it was getting splashed a-plenty. I called David and he was right on it.

When the Williams saw the crew trying to get out to the anchor, they came running to help. (I don't think it's possible to have better neighbors!) Since the tide was falling, the easiest solution was to pull the boat in to shore. David couldn't reach the anchor, so he ended up cutting the anchor line and the crew retrieved the anchor later. Roger checked the outboard, draining the carburetors and the fuel lines and couldn't find any water, burgeoning our hopes that it hadn't swamped.

The crew all went into town to pick up Sarah and do various town errands, like check mail, get water, move fish around in the freezer, unplug the New Boat - Roy called a few times to let us know that it was getting full of rain water. They weren't back in time to help move out the Grayling, but it was still blowing hard and we had to get it out of the swamp zone. So I moved it out a little bit - but the surf and the length of the anchor line didn't let me go far and it was still somewhat in the swamp zone, so I climbed in with a bucket and got ready to bail if it started taking water, with the plan of getting out after it was out of danger and before the water outside the boat got too deep for me. I don't know whether my weight counterbalancing the outboard helped it not swamp, but it worked out OK and I got back in without getting wet.

We went out to fish just after the crew got back, to try to fish the flood. The tide was too high to walk to the boats and it was very rough: strong winds, high tide, and high waves. Roger and I first rowed out to the Grayling, with middling confidence the outboard would start. That was too much confidence. So we tried to row on to the Bathtub, but it was up current and up wind from us and that was too much for us, so we turned around and rowed back to shore. Then we went over toward the Williams' site which is up wind and up current of the Bathtub, with the idea of pulling out on their running line and when we were about at the same depth as the Bathtub, paddle downwind and with the current toward it. But the tide was too high and we couldn't see the running line, so we decided just to paddle from there without benefit of the running line. We did see it as we paddled and skidded along in the rowboat, right over it.

It was a good plan, but we hadn't given ourselves enough room to get out deep enough and we were going to miss it. This photo shows Roger and me in the rowboat, down current and downwind from the Bathtub. We did put on a burst of effort to try to get there. We were so close... but it felt like we were standing still.

June 16: Satellite dish technician?

First thing this morning, I bit a very big bullet and bought an outboard. I heard my credit card creak under the strain. It's a Honda 90, chosen partly because our current Honda 90 is so valiant, standing up for another season, despite a wounded fuel pump, carburetors with water in them, and whatever else it has suffered at our hands. The other reason is because it's a Honda 90 and we already have one of those, though it's a 2006. So I asked Andy, the salesman at Alaska Mining and Diving how interchangeable the parts are. The answer is: pretty interchangeable - the throttle, steering, and shift cables and the props, for example. Those are parts that we need to have on hand. The big difference is the new Honda 90s are fuel injected - all new outboards are fuel injected. Our old one has carburetors. At first, the fuel injection seems like it would be good for us - no more carburetors to mess with. But they demand a higher quality of fuel because there are no carburetors to collect the water. Andy told me that water in the fuel is the #1 reason they see these outboards in for repair. Uh oh. We'll need little umbrellas and houses for our fuel...

This is "free week" for fishing. Actually, we've had "free weeks" since the first of June. During those three weeks, we're allowed to fish from 9 am Monday to 9 am Friday. We've been fishing all those tides and so far have about 10 or so fish filleted and sealed - maybe a few more. Since at 9 am today the tide was falling and since yesterday, Harry got only 2 fish in his subsistence net, we decided not to knock ourselves out trying to do a deep water set and just set it on the incoming tide in the afternoon. Even so, we were kind of late getting out there so we didn't have the time to check all the tag lines and so on. Every year, I need to remember again that when we're going out to set, we need a little extra time to get ready while we're there. It isn't good to just meet the incoming tide. We always need to top off the gas tanks or untangle the anchor lines or check the knots or something. We need to be out there ahead of set time, ideally while the boat is still dry. Sure, sometimes we have to wait a little bit, but that's better than spending the rest of the tide trying to recover from being 10 minutes - or even two minutes - late.

Before going out to pick the evening tide with Roger, Rohan, and AJ, we tried to use the Internet and found again the warning "System degraded" because the "web acceleration is not operational." All that gives me no idea what the problem is or what to do about it. At first, I thought it might be the weather, but we've had that for a few weeks now, so finally, I called Will, the friendly HughesNet rep out of Fairbanks. He is really great and patient.

This is the front of the satellite dish, with the part that aims. I think it is aiming at a transponder on a satellite (??), way far away. Will thought we were probably having the "system degraded" problems because the aim of the dish has shifted a bit since it was first installed, but he worked patiently, coaching me through getting a better signal.

This is the back of the satellite dish, where is it possible to make adjustments to improve the signal (or make it altogether worse). Will has taught me to get into the program to talk to the modem and we could see that the signal strength was poor, giving Will more confidence in his diagnosis.

At the end of the first season with this dish, I drilled a hole through the sleeve and the post it fits over so that I could insert a nail through both to align the dish the next spring. That was Tom's idea, the guy who came out to point it in the first place. And it did help, but I was surprised when Will suggested that there would still be some play in the dish, and indeed there was... enough to improve the signal. At the initial setup this spring, I was on the inside and someone else was moving the dish and tightening the nuts, and he didn't tighten them firmly enough. So the first strong wind blew the dish out of whack and we needed to go through the process again. Then we had another strong wind and even though the nuts were tightened, when I got up there today to try to fix the signal, I was surprised to find another loose screw, so moved the dish around ever so slightly while Rohan reported on signal strength until we got it good enough and I tightened everything I could find to tighten. Maybe this will save a little frustration in the future - it is definitely saving some frustration now.

Before long, it was time to head out to fish, and fix the remaining lines that needed to be fixed. I was surprised last week that other crew members weren't clamoring to fix the hang of the net that felt obviously wrong to me, so it occurred to me that the other crew members just might not understand how this whole "tying down the leadline" works. The leadline and corkline have to be even, with even pressure. That means that the anchor line and v-line that come up from the anchor to the corkline and leadline (respectively) have to be the same length, including the buoy. I think everyone understands now what we're looking for. We'll see as the season progresses.

The net on the inside site, the bane of our fishing life because of how the net and the running line interact, once again fouled on the running line.

This photo shows Rohan and AJ pulling along the net, untangling it from the running line as we go. I know that an obvious fix for this is to eliminate the running line... but I don't want to. Here's why:
(1) It gives us a way to get off the beach when the weather is too rough. In calm weather, we only need to be thigh deep to be able to safely lower the outboard and get off the beach, but when the weather is rough, the surf lifts the bow of the boat and at the same time, pushes down the stern, driving the outboard into the mud, sand, or rocks - whatever is under it. So in rough weather, we need to get the boat out way deeper than usual, but in rough weather, that is even harder/more dangerous to do because the boat bounces more than usual, waves splash harder, and it's overall harder to control with worse consequences if we lose control. The easiest answer is to leave the outboard up and pull out on the running line until we are out of the surf break - that way, no one has to be outside the boat in those hard-to-control conditions;
(2) It gives us a way to deliver to the beach in rough weather. Instead of heading in to the beach bow first as we usually do (even though we might immediately turn the bow out into the waves if the weather is even slightly rough), when we have a big load and the weather is especially rough, we don't want our stern facing the surf break because water will just pour into the low stern of our heavy boat and swamp us, so we hang on to the running line and pull ourselves in, backwards, keeping our bow to the surf break; and
(3) It pretty much guarantees that if we have a deep water set, at least we'll get that one set even if we are unable to set any of the other sites.
To me, those are three good reasons, and they make it worthwhile to look for other solutions to the problem of the net wrapping over the running line, illustrated in the photo.

No matter how many fish we get, we still have to clean the boat. It seems strange to do it, but we clean the boat by dipping a 5 gallon bucket into the water outside the boat... and dumping it into the boat. (It always feels odd to do that because of the strong feeling that the water is supposed to stay on the other side of the boat.) Then we swirl the water to get the sand and mud into suspension, and bail it out. I think it is crucially important to keep the boat clean, including the lines folded up and not under foot, and everything put in its place. I am not this tidy anywhere else - you should see my desk at home! But on the boat, if we can't find something right when we need it, it could be dangerous, and if our feet are tangled in line that has just been dropped on the deck, that is dangerous. So people on my boat tend to hear, "fold up that line" until they internalize the principle and see for themselves when a line needs to be folded. That is a very rewarding moment for me.

Here is the season's first fish ticket, showing the 36 lbs we've sold so far (46 lbs total, minus 10 lbs of brailer weight). I'd definitely say that the excitement about an alarmingly early season is not panning out. Honestly, that's a bit of a relief. As long as they come, I'd just as soon that they aren't early. After all, we are now waiting on an outboard to be able to get our other first string skiff into the water.

June 15: Happy Father's Day

We started so optimistically today! I received a text from Roy saying he got the Ambi started. When the crew mounted the fuel pumps yesterday, the Ambi still didn't work but it wasn't clear why. Roy and Jerry worked on it this morning and found that some water had frozen in a carburetor over the winter, pushing a plug partway out and causing a fuel leak. As with so many mechanical problems around here, this one too was solved with a hammer. But it's not just any hammer applied in just any way, so I'm very glad Roy made the time to fix it.

We were already pretty sure the Yamaha would go. We had had it shipped down to Seattle so the outboard people could either tell us that we should give up on it and buy something new, or fix it. They emphatically said it could be fixed and it's not hard to get parts for it, even though it's a 1989. Roy's advice was not to trust it and to get something new. But that's expensive advice, and I thought maybe the outboard people knew something about this outboard that Roy didn't know - after all, he can't know everything. But apparently, he did know this thing, as the story below will show. He's not big on "I told you so," but that might be because I'll volunteer, "You were right," when I realize that.

We were so confident it would all work that I contacted Gabe, the beach boss, before we even got to town to find out if we would have a chance of launching today. He said he already had 15 skiffs in line before us, so if we could stand by, he would try. That was OK with me, but David is much more confident in our abilities with our trailer, which the Ambi was already on. So as soon as we got to town, David, Jeff, and Rohan attached the trailer to the truck and drove down to the Nornak dock (a fish camp that we don't fish for). They backed it down and launched it uneventfully. Courage pays off! Roger and Jake expected an equally easy launch of the New Boat and then they would head back to camp and start working on the hutch to keep our gas cans out of the rain. The best laid plans...

While David and crew were launching the Ambi, the rest of us stayed at AGS, Roger and Jake doing last minute things on the New Boat, and AJ and I finishing up the painting on the Janice. Here is the Janice, with her new coat almost finished... and even more important than that, you can see my nephew Everest on the ladder.

And here is a better picture of him, showing his simultaneous smile and scary All State football grimace. I think that gives a pretty good clue about him.

Hannah is also part of the Harry's crew this year and here she is, just having crawled out of the cabin where she was trying to reassemble the floor. I think Harry had been working in the bilge, and I also think he is teaching both Ev and Hannah how to do mechanical things. I figure in a few days, I'll be able to go to her for help with our mechanical problems.

And here is the captain of the Janice himself, Harry. I do realize that very little of the painting we did would actually do much to help them fish, but I figure it would feel better to them every time they approached the boat... that was worth a few paint stains, I think.

Gabe said the beach gang was moving boats quickly enough that they would be able to get the New Boat in so when David came back with the trailer to take the New Boat (after anchoring the Ambi just away from the Nornak dock), we decided to go with Plan B and have AGS launch us.

This is NOT the New Boat. This is one of the drift boats, a big one. The beach gang's strategy is to bring down one of the big boats with their giant trailer and launch it while a skiff, which has been brought down by forklift, is waiting in the wings. Then they launch the skiff - or sometimes two skiffs - while the trailer is going back for the next big boat. It's an efficient system.

Here is a skiff waiting in the wings, in this case, our New Boat. And here is the crew, saying "Happy Father's Day" to their fathers. I took another photo farther up the hill where they all waved and smiled. But Jeff was off doing something else, so when he joined the group, I asked them to do it again, this time on the dock. They didn't want to wave and Roger did an excellent imitation of an 11 year old boy, "Awww, don't make us do that when the Beach Gang is watching." I thought it was perfect!

Look back up to the launch of the big boat and compare it to the launch of our skiff. That's the difference. We are zippier and more maneuverable, but we are a lot smaller, we hold a lot less and we are much less comfortable.

David and Rohan have climbed down off the dock and here they go, headed down to meet up with the Ambi. The plan was that Jeff would run the Ambi home while David and Rohan ran the New Boat and AJ would follow along the beach on the four-wheeler in case either skiff had trouble. But the New Boat had trouble even before it reached the Ambi. It what!!?? After sending it south to be worked on and after all the acrobatics to get the missing part... it doesn't work??!!

Roger went down to join Jeff's efforts to see if there was some easy thing that we just missed. There wasn't much for AJ to do, so he befriended a four-legged observer and apparently was doing tricks for him. Rohan caught a picture of it.

Finally, Roger and Jeff surrendered and the Ambi towed the New Boat back with Jeff at the helm. Sigh. Gabe courteously lifted it out of the water for us and Roger worked on it a little more. Roy came over to see if he could do anything to help us - it sounded like an ignition problem to him... and it sounds to me like a new outboard is in my very near future. Even Roy was unable to persuade it to work. It is fascinating to watch him work. You know how a doctor will listen through the stethoscope and be able to interpret the meaning of what she hears? Or probe at your neck and tell you that you have a thyroid problem? Roy can do the same thing with engines. I see him touch it just so and cock his head slightly while concentrating on the constellation of symptoms... but even with all his magic, the skiff remains on the dock, choking away.

When David and Rohan came back, David started to climb up the ladder and decided to leave his phone with Rohan. Not wanting to climb back down the ladder, he just dropped it to him (something he knows I would have shrieked at him not to do - if someone misses, you can't just go and pick it up)... and Rohan missed it, though it did bounce off something hard before falling entirely out of the boat and into the water. Kerplunk. So we had to wait around until the tide went down enough to see if it could be found, and then if it would work. The waiting wasn't so bad because we were wrestling with the Yamaha outboard then anyway. And here are two of today's miracles: (a) David found the phone and (b) it still worked even though it had been in brakish water and icky mud for 4 hours... with a cracked screen. Go Samsung!

We were all relieved when it was finally time to go home. While we were in camp, we got the last of our barge shipment, which David put to good use on the trip home.

June 14: Harry, Hannah, and Everest arrived... with parts for us!!

It is a beautiful thing when a group of people joins forces to accomplish a goal. We do that when we're fishing, and it's yet another kind of delight when it also happens outside the boat. Today was like that. With just the second day of sunny weather, our crew joined together to tackle the project of finishing the painting of Harry's boat. By the time I brought Harry, Ev, and Hannah back from the airport, the boat was really beautiful. Not completely done, but I was proud of what we accomplished in our little windows of dry weather. Pictures will follow of the boat once all the tape is off, and of Harry, Ev, and Hannah once I pull the camera out at the right time.

Harry was able to bring all the parts we've been starving for - the Yamaha parts arrived from California to Anchorage as Steve, the guy from Dewey's Cook Inlet, told us to expect, and also as promised, he called Harry to let him know. This gave Harry time to swing by and pick up what turned out to be a tiny nut, a little plastic thingie, and a small screw-looking thing - the last one in the country. My kingdom for a horse. Roger and Jeff got it installed and I think the New Boat is now ready to go. Yay!!

Harry was also able to bring the fuel pumps for the Honda. The crew was able to install these, but there were problems: unknown o-rings, and tricky (and crucial) clamps. After they got it together, they saw that fuel was coming out of the top of the outboard - it's not supposed to do that. Roy thinks a float may be stuck in the carburetor so we'll have to wait until he has time to try to un-stick it. Tomorrow, I hope we'll be able to get the New Boat launched so when we start fishing on Monday, it will at least be in the New Boat and the Bathtub, if not the Ambi.

We returned to the cabins tonight to a dinner of bangers and mash, and a beautiful evening.

June 13: Rohan arrived!

After picking up Rohan very very early in the morning and then returning to the cabins to make hash browns, bacon, and biscuits with bacon gravy our workday started with working on Harry's boat and ended in a bonfire. But the events were otherwise unrelated. Here you can see Roger in the foreground with AJ and Jeff behind him, and Jake up in the boat trying to keep the fenders off the hull that is about to be painted. A strange weather thing happened while we were painting: we frequently were rained on, despite blue skies all around us. Sometimes it just sprinkled; other times it poured, but somehow the boat we were painting seemed to be right under a rain cloud, surrounded by blue skies.

Even though he had just arrived and brought many of the items we needed, this pictures shows that Rohan was not exempted from painting. His sleepless night in the airport the night before might have impaired his ability with a paintbrush.

One of the great highlights of being in town is mug-up. I've mentioned it before, but haven't provided a photo until today. When I am feeling nutritionally correct, I try to avoid the experience, but usually, I don't manage. This crew does not even comprehend the idea of trying to resist these offerings.

Mug up is almost a sacred experience. My crew likes to plan its trips to town around mug up - 10 am and 3 pm, and I think they might consider the provision of mug up to our buyer's most important responsibility. Why do I think that? Everyone calls on Roy a lot. Especially early in the season, he is pulled in many different directions. He has to keep all the stuff running: beach trucks, fork lifts, help out in the processing plant, staff vehicles, tenders, fishing boats and skiffs, plus miscellaneous tasks like keeping propane tanks filled. That's a lot for one person, though he does have good help now (up until they will be needed at the freezer plant across the street). His job is to keep it all moving so that by the end of the season, AGS makes its pack. That means the fishing fleet has to keep fishing, tenders and beach trucks have to keep taking delivery, processing equipment has to keep running, fork lifts have to keep moving the product and other stuff around. So he has to go through a sort of triage process to figure out where to allocate his time among the many requests he receives. He would like to do it all, and I think it is a bit painful for him when he has to give a lower priority to some tasks. I was explaining this to Jeff and mentioned as an example that I saw Roy working on the mug up van (the van that they use to bring the donuts from the kitchen down to the mug up room on the dock) and Jeff immediately responded: no matter what, that should be the top priority. And that's with two of our skiffs sitting on the dock, out of commission. Hence, a mug up photo.

Phil and Tom of the Goatroper have moved to Silver Bay, a new fish processing plant that is fisherman-owned... and we all miss each other. So we decided to have a bonfire. At first, the idea was just to get together around a fire. But

my crew needed to eat so Rohan (still with very little sleep), AJ, and I left the boat painting job and rushed back to the cabin to start getting the bratwursts and s'mores together, as well as the multiple salads we would feed ourselves and our guests. Happily, our guests were running a bit late, so we were ready by the time they arrived.

Phil, Harry, and Tim are part of a radio group, meaning they look after each other on the water, and let each other know if they find fish so the others can come and share in the bounty.

I was happy to see that Phil and Tom brought Tim, his crew (son Jack, daughter Leah, and brother John). Tim and Jack are in this photo,

and Leah, standing with Jeff, is in the next one.

This photo of John foreshadows the next section about the great musical talent that visited us at the bonfire. It took a bit to persuade him to play since rain isn't good to guitars.

Carbon and Millie (their captain's daughter and Carbon's deckmate) also caught a ride with the radio group.

Here is Carbon, tending the fire.

We were also happy that our new friend David (from Hawaii) got a ride from his captain (Ralph).

Here are David and Millie are sitting together, listening to our live music(!!!). But we'll get to that in a minute.

The rest of the crew was also at the bonfire. They got it started in the first place, and I'm happy to say that no petroleum products were involved.

Here is AJ, the newest member of our crew. He is an eager learner and a willing worker. After cutting up many of the vegetables we needed for our salads, he went out and helped the rest of the crew start the fire.

Luckily for AJ, David has been his main teacher so far instead of me. I can't really say where David got his patience, but he has a lot of it, to the benefit of just about anything we want to do. Here, he is explaining solar power to someone. As he's been explaining his work to me, I find it astonishing that people aren't lining up for access to a free solar power system. I wonder if they fear they are being tricked, having learned probably through many harsh experiences, that if it seems too good to be true, it probably is. But as far as I can see - and I've asked a lot of questions - the opportunities David's company is providing are as good as they seem. If the customer will agree to have a solar power generating system installed on their property - at no cost to them - they will get the benefit of the power it generates. Why not agree to that? Again, David's excellent supply of patience benefits everyone as they try to wrap their minds around the opportunity.

This is a photo of Roger the day the last piece of his welding equipment made it to Naknek. I think it was a big relief... now he has to decide whether he wants to try to generate business. It is so great to have him on the crew. Even if he doesn't know how some piece of equipment works (and he does understand how many of them work), he has confidence that it actually makes sense and that he is capable of understanding it. That's a huge advantage when he's trying to fix something.

I think Rohan was doing remarkably well, especially considering that he arrived this morning at 7:30 am after arriving in Anchorage the night before at about 1 am. The Anchorage airport is not a restful place, but here he is, just a little before midnight the next night still awake, no longer covered in paint, participating fully as we can just about always expect him to do.

After those of us who wanted to eat did so and we had a break in the weather, we started to learn about the depth of musical talent in our little group. Here are Phil and John, singing together sometimes and in turn other times. Live music, especially when it's intimate like this, has a big effect on me. It feels like it sort of cranks my heart open and I think it's the feeling that the word "thrill" was invented for.

As I listened to them play, I started thinking that even though I always wish I had been born with musical talent - or maybe it's just musical courage - maybe if I were, I wouldn't get this feeling of a thrill whenever someone plays music in my presence. I'm sure that people who do have musical talent still feel something pretty darned great when they use that talent, but maybe those of us without talent get a small extra benefit of the appreciation of the preciousness of the gift. After Phil and John played for a while, Jake blended in with his mouth harp - it was like eating this delicious ice cream, and suddenly finding a caramel ribbon you didn't expect. That's it: Jake's harmonica was a caramel ribbon.

And when we adopted David (from Hawaii), we had no idea that he was talented as well as kind and brave. So imagine our pleasure when he took up one of the guitars and started playing along. For me, nothing really compares to being where people are making music. However, the rest of the evening was also just pure joy.

It was a beautiful night with a brisk breeze blowing onshore. It was a little chilly, but we had the fire. I remembered that I've had a stunt kite hanging in my porch for more than 20 years - maybe more than 30. We've used it during that time, but in recent years, it seems like we've always been too busy. So I was glad to remember it tonight. Phil, Tom, their guests, and Tim and his family had to leave just about as the kites came out, but the rest of us weren't done with the day yet. It turns out that operating stunt kites is yet another skill area for Jake. After I tried twice to get it up in the air, Jake got it right there and was able to do tricks with it. I would love to post all the photos, but I decided that I should just choose one. I liked this one because I think it shows the playfulness of the kites, against the moody sky.

And I couldn't resist this picture of the kite fliers, with the picture taken toward the sunset.

And speaking of the sunset, I can say that I still haven't grown tired of them. They aren't always so beautiful, and it isn't always possible to predict which ones will be so glorious. But here is the sunset from the night of the bonfire.

We finally called it a night and took the trucks up to save them from the high tide, taking Carbon, Millie, and David to their vehicle in the process. After Jeff came in, he said something like, "Yeah, it's the biggest moon I've ever seen." And there it was, rising over Naknek, just a few miles to the east of us.