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?