June 2 2016: Matt day

Such a good day! It even rained a little bit. And the weather says it will rain more soon. My water barrel needs it.

We meant to get into town ahead of the tide today, but... well, that didn't happen. So we waited until after the tide and went then. Matt's flight was due to arrive at 6:20 PM. So we headed in around 2:30 to try to get the Friendly Ranger running - the one with the widest possible tracks and therefore the greatest possible hope of surfing the mud. After a little bit of fiddling and a belch of black smoke, it ran!! That felt like success.

We've had this ranger since 1980. It was our second ranger. We bought our first ranger in 1979 and we really needed it. We didn't use skiffs yet and that was a year with many many fish. I'm not sure how it compares with our heavy years now because we didn't really keep track of our poundage back then. Now with the skiffs, we are out on the nets, taking out the salmon and delivering them as the tide comes in and we keep it up the whole tide. Sometimes, if it's slow, we'll come in and have a cup of hot cocoa or take a short nap, but if there are fish, we're out there with them.

In 1979, we were still a few years away from our first skiff, so we could only watch as the nets filled up through the flood. As soon as the tide dropped enough for us to reach them on foot in our waders, we were on them - dressed in chest waders, rain coats, and cotton gloves with a 6' fiberglass dingy tied around our waists - picking fish furiously, trying to keep up with the tide. Every fish we picked in the water and then floated in to the drivable beach in the 6' fiberglass dingies tied around our waists, was a fish we didn't have to pick in the mud and then drag through the mud to deliver. Those little boats would hold about 100 fish - 500# - and keep floating. Our first goal was to keep up with the tide, but our most important goal was to avoid picking fish in the mud.

It takes about 3 times as long to pick the same fish after it's been sitting in the mud than when it was in the water. And that's not even counting what it takes to get them in to the beach so they can be delivered. It became a lot harder to beat the tide when we started fishing the outside sites. Even with the brand new ranger that worked hard to tow the dingies back to shore for delivery, in 1979 we still had too many fish out there on the mud flats to get them into the beach before the tide came back in to claim and scatter them.

When we realized that we were about to lose a lot of that tide's catch, desperation drove us to an innovation: we used about 10' long lengths of coated wire - the stuff we usually use for clothesline material - and threaded it through the gills of one fish after another until we had about 50 or more all threaded together. Then we closed the loop and gave it to the tide. We didn't know how it would work out, but we did know that even with the ranger running full out from the time the water was off the flats, we couldn't get all the fish in. We were thrilled to look out after the next tide to see the piles of fish out there by our sites, just slightly shifted from where they had been. We were able to collect them and deliver.

Those were the days of the peughs. Peughs are sticks about as long as a broom handle with a sort of skewer on the end. When we filled up a boat, we'd pull it in to the part of the beach that the cannery trucks could reach and tip it over, dumping the fish out onto the sand. When the cannery trucks came by, the drivers would pull up to a pile; one driver would peugh the fish by the head one by one into the back of the truck while the other counted them on a hand counter. Back at the cannery, they would dump them all into a giant washing tank, and pull out 100 to weigh to create an average poundage, the basis of our pay.

Back to the rangers - we loved that first ranger. But its tracks were only 12" wide and it couldn't tow or carry much through the mud - even itself. And something about it makes it a little unstable. It steers by its two hand brakes. It has three forward gears and it is necessary to come to a complete stop before shifting gears. The throttle is set by hand. There is no emergency shut-off. We hadn't had it for long when Harry decided to use it to help him pull one of our buildings away from the edge of the cliff. He drove down the beach to a low spot in the cliff and then drove back across the tundra. But the tundra is lumpy and when he hit a hard lump he bounced most of the way out of the ranger, just hanging on by his foot and dangling in front of it. The ranger was oblivious to its driver's danger and just kept crawling along on whatever path he had last set it on, at the speed he had last set. It could have taken him over the cliff or into one of the tundra gaps. He kept his wits and defying gravity, worked his way back in. We learned something about center of gravity there. It is also the ranger that fell off the planks he propped up onto the back of the cannery truck to take it into town at the end of the season. It even tipped over on me once as I tried to run it up the cliff to park it out of the tide. (I jumped off.) We call that one the Killer Ranger. In 1980, we bought the wide-track ranger and found that it went through the mud better and was much more stable. That one is the Friendly Ranger. The one we use now, and will soon test for its ability to manage this record-setting mud, is the Friendly Ranger. That's the one we got started before heading up to collect Matt.

Because our white truck is in the shop and we are relying on ol' Red, we borrowed a spunky little Tercel from our dear friend Phil to go to the airport. We had a little extra time so we stopped in for a cup of water and a tour of the Fortress of the Goat, the housing of the Goatroper captain and crew. They have stacked two container vans, the bottom one dedicated to fishing gear and the top one decked out as a comfortable and cozy summer cottage, complete with propane stove and oven, running water, a small refrigerator, three bunks, and even room to set up folding chairs. Pictures to come.

Matt arrived without his luggage. This isn't so surprising this time of year because people coming in have the need for so much stuff - way beyond normal luggage expectations. The planes fly in stuffed with people and cargo, and go back fairly empty (that's called the "backhaul").

Matt was philosophical about not having his luggage. And he is ridiculous in his ability to describe it. When we finally saw it, it was clearly a burgundy and black duffel witha woven design that might have come from Guatemala. Here is a photo of it. What do you think? How did Matt describe it? "A black duffel bag." Good thing the baggage people don't pay much attention to what people say and just go by their numbers. We decided that it was time for him to learn to ride the four-wheeler. I rode behind him to get him through town. It's a difficult route to describe but important to know because four-wheelers, all unlicensed, are not allowed on the road.

Once on the beach, he dove right into the tasks we'd set out for him. He completed opening the crew cabin, removing the boards from all the windows and he got the composting toilet ready for use while Jean and I continued to sort out and open my cabin. That was enough for the first new guy's first day.

It was a beautiful day so we all went for a 10:30 pm walk, just ahead of the sunset, to look for agates and to visit Pedersen Point (PPT). Jean found the only three agates of the evening and we learned that PPT will be processing this season. I wonder about those rumors to the contrary?