and Yin (our photo journalist) got a photo of Trevor apparently about to consume a fairly hardened lemming. Really - we aren't that hungry. The more I work with this crew, the more I like them (and I already started out liking them plenty). Getting the skiffs ready is a confusing and frustrating task, but they all stayed with it, alert, and willing to step in and help.
- And they face the future with courage and hope!
Hugh and Roger have taken the lead with handling the wrenches and Evan knows a thing or two about boats and knots. Jake, the most senior crew member (until Josh arrives, followed by David and Sarah) is stepping into a leadership role. After we had been working with the skiffs for several hours, Chris took a team of him and Trevor to go tend the nets, getting another 21 fish, heading and gutting 10 of them for Harry's trip home for the week.
And just for the heck of it, I wanted to include this picture of Trevor, Hugh, and Chris - ready for a boat ride! Part of what's difficult about getting the skiffs ready is everything has to be done first, and every time we turn around, we're told that the fish are going to be early. Eek! It's a figure-it-out-as-you-go kind of place. One of the things we need to do is test the outboards before putting the skiffs into the water, and the outboards need to have water running through them to cool them. The outboard shops have water tanks set up to lower the outboards into. Not us. The other pretty convenient solution is to use the little ear muff devices that attach to the end of a garden hose and clamp over the water intake spots on the lower unit of the outboard. We have the hose and the ear muffs; just need the hose bib. Appropriately, there are fire hoses all over the place... but few garden hose attachments. We found one and our hose, a pretty long one, reached to within 10 feet of it, starting at the outboard. Dang. What to do: remove the outboard and bring it closer? Ask the beach gang to move the skiff closer? Find an extension for the hose? Maybe that. But it was too late - we were out of gas and the stock room was about to close.
There are so many skiffs, and so many components of getting each skiff ready. My mental checklist for minimum preparations is: a way to go; a way to stop; and a way to get the water out. But there's more to it than just that. The way to stop, for example, requires an anchor with the right length of chain and the right length of anchor line and the right knots, and double-checking the shackles that hold it all together. The way to go entails knowing which outboard use mixed glass, which straight gas and which are precision blend machines. And of course, ensuring that they will come up and go down (one doesn't right now - Harry suspects the solenoid (I didn't even know how to spell it, let alone what it is though I think it's an important electrical thing)). And the issue of being able to get the water out of the boat also encompasses keeping the water out in the first place. All the skiffs have drain holes so they can be stored outside all winter without filling up with water. But that means we have to a) remember to close the drain holes and b) find the plugs to do it with. It's a surprise when the boat is lowered into the water and the crew (and the beach gang, and seemingly everyone in the whole fish camp) suddenly notices water gushing in through the drain hole. Oops. That's embarrassing.
In addition to the minimum, we also need to get the power rollers on (changing the oil in the power packs first and making sure they run), the tie-off lines in place, the brailers loaded in, the nets stacked in and the various assorted handy things that I slowly remember over the course of the season.
It's a long day.
When we got back to the cabin, we learned about one of Hugh's claims to fame: the last time he let a long drool escape his mouth to be retrieved by sucking it back was in elementary school when he brought back not only the drool, but also a blade of grass.
For now, back to the skiffs and to pick up Jeff.
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