July 22 2016: I guess the season's over

It took a little while to accept that all the losses of yesterday mean that we're done fishing. If it were the middle of the season, we'd fix things (well, have them fixed) and replace things and keep going. But at the tail end of the season, I figure it's time to take a hint. But acceptance of that hint can take a few hours. We ended up concerned that sending us out there with only one functional boat felt a little thin for security... plus, what about those ebb fish?

When we're going into a season, I often describe it as knowing we're standing on train tracks and knowing that that train is heading toward us and we'll need to deal with it. We don't know what it's carrying, how fast it will be traveling, or from what direction. But we do know it'll run right over us and we'll need to be ready to pick up the pieces. I think we've seen the train this year and it was the wind.

Although we've started on our homepack, I didn't have mine yet, so we decided to keep the inside net in and just fish it the old-fashioned way: on foot, putting the fish in the little sleds as we remove them from the net, and pulling them into the beach as they fill.

This method of fishing requires a little more precision time-wise. If we are late to the net (and there are fish in it), the seagulls will start pecking at them as they lie on the sand, no longer protected by the water and we may end up with dreaded fish-in-the-mud. If we are too early to the net (and there aren't enough fish in it to keep us busy) we have to wait for the tide to drop to reach the end of it.

This morning, as we were going out to pick at 8:30 AM (without a skiff, it's ebb pick only), I looked at the weather and saw that we were in the beginning of the only hours without high winds for days. This is the time to get the New Kid out of the water. We'd have to tow it with the Ambi. After a little bit of thinking about it, we realized that we should just get the Ambi pulled in the same trip. That demolished our plan of anchoring the Ambi out near the outside sites and putting the buoys in it, and then running them in with the tide. Need to come up with another plan.

I consulted the tidebook and just looked out at the beach and saw that the New Kid was about to go dry. So I called AGS to see if they could pull us out of the water (yes) and Jeff, Austen, Matt, and I quickly got into our gear, threw ourselves into the skiffs and took off... at a rather stately pace. It's only about five miles between our place and AGS, but it's a long five miles when towing another boat.

Here we are, the crew bringing in the Ambi with the New Kid in tow. Remember, I only said it was relatively calm compared to many days before and after; I didn't say the weather was fine. Here is Matt, the photographer for this part of the trip...

Here I am, driving the easy part that requires little old lady speed. All those nets in the boat are the remains from yesterday's roundhauls.

And Jeff, who is about to take the helm when precision and a steady hand are needed to land us next to the pump barge tied up to AGS' dock.

And Austin who has said many of the best things I've heard this season, the most recent one being, "Put me in, coach" when I called on him to drive a trailer, something he just told me he was pretty good at. I just love having a multi-talented crew!

The beach gang asked us to drop the New Kid off at the pump barge (some of the beach gang climbed down to help us land, something that Jeff's piloting skills made pretty easy). They wanted to lift the Ambi first (maybe they were afraid I'd change my mind...).

Here is Jesse from the beach gang helping to ease the Ambi into the slings they'll use to lift us. Jeff and Austin, on the port side, and Matt, on starboard are helping to place and hold the slings. The beach gang is very careful to balance the skiffs before they lift them into the air.

Here they are, the guys we are entrusting our flagship to. They are so far away because the tide is getting pretty low. We got in when the water was about 2-3' deep at the dock. We didn't have much time to spare.

Once they get it balanced, they have everyone get out so they can lift it with minimal risk to the people.

This is the Ambi flying. They're about to swing her over to the dock. From there, they move her either with extended forks on a big fork lift, or on a truck.

And now the crew that's been tending the New Kid prepares it for the pull. And with this, the season is largely over.

But the work isn't. This is the part of the season where we have to shift into low range and dig in to climb the mountain of closing up work. Over the years, I've created a five-page checklist... and the only reason it's that short is because I know how to use tables. It takes some time to put away four skiffs, four trucks, two four-wheelers, four sites, and five cabins. And the crew is exhausted to their bones.

We are experiencing different kinds of grueling days. Yesterday was a day of things flying apart, sort of spectacularly. Today is a day of carefully and meticulously taking things apart. Those filthy nets in the Ambi need to be stripped, meaning, we need to cut each knot that holds the web onto the leadlines and corklines, figure 8 the lines and ship them south for hanging for next year.

We need to clean the inside of the boat - I don't know how it got so dirty. It's kind of like greasy mud. It's probably best not to think too hard about what that stuff is. And the roller and power pack need to be removed, winterized, and stored. Of course, we needed to shovel out the New Kid. By the time the boats are put up, they need to be empty and clean with disused raingear firmly covering anything that might be adversely affected by the weather.

Roy took a few deep breaths and went to survey the damage in the New Kid. We got a hopeful report. Apparently because the console is so high, it took most of the pounding when the boat turned over, giving some protection to the outboard itself. The steering wheel is on the console and it was broken off. The roller was ripped from its hinges, but stayed with the boat thanks to the hydraulic hoses. Landon, Roy's handsome and able assistant, gave us quite a bit of help, washing off the prodigious amount of sand that was packed into the engine under the cowling, flushing the cylinders, trying to drive water out of where it shouldn't be and overall, applying rescue strategies until the fully equipped outboard hospitals in Seattle can work on it. Cross your fingers!

At the same time, part of the crew was assigned to processing more homepack. The brailers needed to be washed, dried, and folded up and stored, the slush bags needed to be washed, dried, and returned to Debby's cabin. The slush bags are a little sensitive - they are waterproof, until they get a hole. This is a place with heavy boots and lots of gritty sand. So far, no holes, but the environment is perfect for creating leaks. We also needed to prepare the net locker to receive all the fishing equipment for four sites in such a way that we will be able to restock the boats next spring with minimal frustration. That means labeling things well.

Those long days in town are doubly exhausting, even if, as Matt put it, we got to mug up three times. Donuts and tea can take you only so far. This was also fishtival weekend, with fishing-related events, activities, and music. In most seasons, I can find both the time and the energy to go listen to the music, but not this season. Neither the time nor the energy.