July 15: Smickled salmon, bears, and my brother the hero

Two days ago, Sarah and I stayed back at the cabin while the others went into town. We baked bread (5 loaves, plus one loaf of maple bars and two of cinnamon rolls), cleaned the cabin, and cut up some of the too salty smoked salmon and plopped it into the pickling solution, hoping it would dilute the saltiness... and we weren't sure what it would do to the flavor. Roger called it smickled salmon.
Bread accounting: Of course, the maple bars and the cinnamon rolls were gone the day they were baked, and the loaves of bread didn't last much longer. It's the Cornell Bread Recipe, so it's darned hearty (a complete protein). A few years ago Jake dubbed it "nuclear holocaust bread," because it will sustain us through just about anything.

Smickled salmon accounting: it worked. The uber-saltiness is gone, it retained the chewier texture of smoked salmon rather than taking on the softer texture of pickled salmon, and the taste experience is early pickle with a smoky finish. (Roger tried to figure out how to fit "unctuous" and "fruity" into the descriptions to help us feel like real connoisseurs.)

Superhero family accounting: Harry called earlier in the day to say goodbye from the airport. He and Makenzie were leaving for the season. But not before making a further impression on those of us left behind. Earlier in the season, Makenzie tried to correct the bad behavior of a deckhand on another boat who was making unwelcome comments and observations about a female cannery worker. I heard that she marched up to him and said, "You need to stop that right now!" He gave some sort of adolescent reply and she stood her ground, "No, I mean now. You need to shut up and stop doing that!" I'm so proud to have her for a niece. She's about 5 feet tall, looks about 12 and is the sweetest person I know. But she's no softie and no coward.

Not to be outdone, her dad (my brother), heard another obnoxious man behaving inappropriately outside his bunkhouse window at about 4 am. Harry works as a corrections officer in Palmer the rest of the year, and I think he is a particularly good one, using firm compassion and confrontation in equal measure, and kindness almost always. He ignored the disturbance until he heard the sounds of violence and then he jumped up, ran outside, and subdued the man, keeping him in a submission hold until the police arrived... 40 minutes later. Harry was in his skivvies for this adventure. I have it on good authority that he often performs his most urgent rescues wearing only his underwear. He confirms that these are plain blue boxer briefs, "I just find them much more comfortable than Fruit-of-the-loom." I think they may be the key to his super powers.

We caught a nice king salmon on the morning tide and decided that we should keep it to grill in honor of Will's arrival. Can you see why we're working so hard on our homepack? I'd hate to spend the year without being able to eat this once a week or so.

The bears begin: David and his crew went out for the evening pick, bringing back in more than we have been getting on the flood. He called my cell phone and woke me because the truck just up and died. Never a good thing. I think it was in that conversation that I learned that they had had the company of a bear during the ebb pick. Will was the first to spot it, first mistaking it for a floater in his eye. Sarah shuffled him, herself, and Jeff into the cab of the truck, while Jake and David were pulling in the rest of the fish. Jake was using his light to guide David to him. Jake stepped away from his sled of fish just about as David started the four-wheeler. When he trained the lights on the sled, he caught the bear running away from it. It seems to be a 2 year old cub. This is the bear time of the season and we now have to really remember to keep the garbage inside, and look both ways before we venture out to the outhouse.