Mark Stopha - Alaska Wild Salmon Company

Monday in Betania

Today had a workshop on calculating yield and pricing for various fish products, estimating cost and benefit of shipping fish to Tana, and cost and benefit of investing in their business, such as buying more smokers, and salt and containers for salted fish. Mostly the women attended again. Not sure if men were out fishing or just not interested.

We also went over salting fish in preparation for a salting practical today. We bought a 60 kilo bag of salt for 7,000 Ariary, or $1.75 US, today at the port dock. A 60 kilo bag will salt about 200 kilo of fish, or less than a cent per kilo. A great deal. And hopefully an doable substitute for a refrigeration, as they don’t have power in the village.

If they salt fish when they are abundant and the price is low, they can freshen them in water and smoke them later and sell them when the fish are scarce and the fish price is high.

They can also stage fish in the salt when their smokers are full so they can meet their contract with a fish buyer, who pays them a better price than they get elsewhere.

It’s never as simple as it sounds, but let’s hope it might work.

Sunday with the Baobobs

We had today off. I worked on my workshop slides. And napped during the heat of the day. Had an “American” breakfast in our hotel. Omellete, half a loaf of french bread, mango jam, honey, butter, yogurt, a big cup of fruit, milk, cereal and a croissant. And coffee. It’s a meal for at least two. Now I know.

We went to the Avenue of the Baobob trees out from town a ways. The trees are incredible and look so out of place. People along the dusty road live in mud houses with thatch roofs. People here look healthy, but myett goodness, how to scratch out a living on the arid climate in this part of the country. The fishermen we are working with don’t have it much better. It’s somewhat surreal to be putting together talks to help them get more money for their fish when it’s pointless if there’s no fish. Hopefully the fish will show up.

Saturday in Betania, Madagascar

We had our first workshop today in Betania (not Bethany, as I thought was the name). We were delayed in getting to a spot we could get to our little ferry boat on the low tide, then had to move venues in the town so we could use the computer for a slide presentation, then had to bag using the projector and just use the computer due to the light. Once we got down to business, it went very well.

Most of the men were out fishing, so it was me and the women who process and market the fish. So, we talked about the fish business and fish products. There was keen interest in canning and salting fish to preserve it in lieu of refrigeration, so we’ll work on putting these practicals together.

Once we start in on the workshops, I sometimes wonder if I’m teaching my participants anything or it’s me that’s doing all the learning. Either way, the more we talk, the more we learn from each other about our respective fish businesses, and that’s what the point of the farmer to farmer program is, I think. The women in the room certainly knew their business. I left them with 3 cans of smoked coho salmon to try that I bought from Chris, and that was greeted with approval and gratitude.

This is the first place I’ve been where salt is easy to get and relatively cheap as there’s a salt mine or salt manufacturing nearby, according to Zo. And when we were waiting on one of the docks for the ferry pickup, there were 50 kilo bags stacked on the dock. When (and sadly, if, these days) the fishermen bring in more fish than they have capacity to smoke to fulfill a contract with a local buyer, the women can salt the excess fish to keep it until they have room in the smokers, and then slack the fish out in freshwater for half a day to freshen it before putting it in the smoker. It seems I always start out these assignments with trepidation about having enough material or practicals to cover, and then seem to find out where we can find something new to do together – that might be new to both parties – and move the learning on both sides forward. That’s the case with discovery that cheap salt is available here, and I’m excited to salt fish like they did for centuries before refrigeration.

I also found out they do have access to ice. Again, more surprises. They can make fish as good as I do. The ice will just melt faster!

Mangos are ripe and everywhere. I bought 5 yesterday for 50 cents. I stopped at 3, eating the smaller ones, and saved the two big ones for today. I remember gorging on mangos in Sierra Leone and getting a side ache like after eating too many green apples as a kid, only at the time I wasn’t sure if it was a side ache or appendicitis, and remember the relief when the ache went away as I was a long way from medical help in my Peace Corps village – just like everyone else who lived there was.

We went to dinner when we got back at about 730 pm. As we walked down a little breeze way from the street to the restaurant, we passed by a woman with a good size orange rockfish-looking fish, apparently looking to sell it to the restaurant. The fish was stinky, as it wasn’t iced and may never have been since it was caught. I had a nice local beef (Zebu) Malagasy dish with large beans over rice. I’ve tried fish here a few times, and don’t particularly like they way they cook it. Lots of local beef and pork and chicken to choose from, and that I have liked.

We got a good little thunderstorm come in and dump a bunch of rain. It started just as we finished dinner about 830 and lasted an hour, or maybe less.

After a week here, we finally got rolling yesterday with our first real workshop, and now we have tomorrow off. Africa time.

I’m up early this morning as I seem to do when I’m on these assignments, and listening to the Mississippi State football game, streaming XM radio through my phone on the hotel wifi. Still a wonder and contradiction to watch fishermen leave the beach under sail in dugout canoes and listen to a football game half the world away.

Friday in Morondava, Madagascar

We arrived in Morondava, Madagascar a few days ago from the capital, Tana. A 3 hour ride to Antsirabe through endless agriculture fields worked by hand, a very cool town where we had rooms overlooking the town square, which is not square but a big long oval. The roads here are very narrow. Not room enough for 2 semi trucks with trailers to pass I don’t think. The next 11 hours were through scrub and high arid country, a good 8 to 9 hours of it on poor roads. Did not pass many vehicles this time of year. Much less population and seemed to be mostly cattle herders here. Not much wildlife – a few birds and lizards. When we dropped out of the highlands to the coastal plain, we stopped for lunch. Local tilapia from the river nearby. Not bad. Malagasy food is not very spicy – much unlike West Africa foods.

Our hotel in Morondava is right on the beach, and we can watch the fishermen leave in their brightly colored canoes starting at 3 in the morning, and then return all day. Many of the canoes are rigged with sails and an outrigger on one side. The boats just glide through the water.

We went to Bethany yesterday. We had to cross a small shallow river, and went by a motorized canoe. On the way back, we waded half way across the river because it was low tide, to an island in the middle, then the canoe took us the rest of the way. It was not a far crossing, nor dangerous.

Our meeting with the fishing families went well. We went through the usual feeling out of each other. After asking for a freezer and outboard motors, neither of which I happened to have in any of my pockets, we got more comfortable with each other and I started to ask them about their fishing operations, their fish processing and fish selling, the type of smoker they use, prices they get for the fish they sell, how they decide what fish to smoke and what fish to sell fresh, etc., etc. It was a very productive meeting for me. I often – I’ll say always- come into these assignments with a lot of trepidation – am I going to be able to provide any real advice to the peopleth hosting me? – and always I find I can and the trepidation turns into a sort of – high?- maybe? – putting together slides on the computer to talk about. Often I find my brain outpacing the speed of my typing. Sometimes I’ll just put down the subject ideas in rapid fire so I don’t forget them and come back and fill in the blanks.

The meeting ended in the early afternoon, and it was hot. Real hot. The normally stiff ocean breeze had laid down. The sand was so hot I could not walk on it in bare feet. My supervisor (Zo) and translator (Andry) accompanying me were as hot and worn out as I was when we got back, which gave me a little solace. Zo had proposed at the meeting we go out fishing all day with the men and then have a workshop in the afternoon. I think we all saw that might kill us………

I was so hot when I got back I stripped off my skanky clothes, and put them in the sink to hand wash. It’s relatively dry here so the clothes dry quickly on the veranda. I put the shower on the coldest setting, which of course was not very cold, and it was just enough to take the edge off. I then crashed for a long nap to recover.

Today, we went to a second village where we’ll work next week, just to see it. We drove as far as we could, then hiked maybe a quarter mile down to the beach. Fishermen passed us with their small gillnets draped over their canoe paddle that they carried on their shoulder.

We watched a couple fishermen skillfully surf their canoes to the beach. Women then helped to get the fish out of the boats. Men fish. Women process and sell the fish. Neither does the other job from what I can tell. One of the women came over with a mackerel looking fish about 15 inches long, and a couple smaller fish to see if we wanted to buy any. We didn’t, but were able to engage her about the price of fish. From what we could tell, the price of mackerel – which she said is rare now – was about $1.75/lb. Which is a good price to fishermen for whole fish of many species in Alaska. Of course, that’s the dock price, and not what it would cost in a store or further down the supply chain. Great information.

The woman returned to the boat to help offload the boat. A young girl of maybe 3 years old was out playing in the heavy surf. Having the time of her life. Laying down and body surfing and just bopping around like 3 year olds everywhere do. Her mother chastised her several times to come in from the surf, but the girl kept playing as long as she could get away with it.

Women on beach in Madagascar organizing fish

Closing up shop

Took a couple in their young 30’s over to the cabin yesterday. They are about the same age as Sara and I were when we bought it back in 1996 from Pete. Kurt had helped me start cleaning out some things there the day before, and these two said they’d be pack mules for a ride over to take a look at it.

Lots of memories in this cabin. A walking stick I cut for my mom that I’d saved. An afghan my grandmother made for me, and a blanket my mom sent with me to college, I think. Two fleece blankets given as a wedding present by Ken and Audrey Dunshie. A statue of a dolphin my Uncle Ted gave me as a memento from Tampa. A set of wedding goblets from Erik’s first wedding that I won at a gift exchange auction at the Campbell’s. A photo of Nick Campbell in his scout uniform just returned from 10 days at scout camp in Whitehorse hugging his television. I stopped and gave that to his mother to give to Nick’s kids next time they see them. A photo of me with the biggest buck I ever got on Admiralty that walked right up to me. My grandfather’s whitetail deer racks from the 1930’s from New York state. Several needlepoint (?) pictures made by my grandma of farm scenes and Polish dancers. Old card game scorecards from the Josephsons. And lots of good hunting gear that I didn’t bring home, from nice gun cases to fancy flashlights – all left by people who used the cabin and didn’t take their gear home with them and didn’t put their names on it. A little ammo bag with Sara’s Dad’s name Leo Hannan on it.

Many of our family have been there over the years, and lots and lots of friends. We packed up 3 back packs of stuff and 2 hand bags each.

Then we took a tour of the original lot that was subdivided among 4 buddies. A cabin behind us now occasionally used by the owner’s kids, who were on their parent’s backs when Sara and I first moved in. Another lot next to it that was never built because the friend died over on Douglas when his boat started dragging anchor, and he tried to get it in his punt and capsized. The last place is a sauna owned by people from Fairbanks, last I knew.

We returned to the cabin, and hauled the gear to the boat. I got, as expected, an email today, from the couple. They’ll take the cabin. I knew they would. Just like Pete knew I would when I looked at the place he’d built in 1988. All I needed was their word. Just like Pete did of me. No security deposit necessary. They’ll put the financing together and we’ll figure out a closing date. I left everything else – pots, pans, dishes, bedding, chain saw, splitting malls, radios, a good supply of firewood, a long ladder to get up on the roof, a leaky skiff for going to Admiralty, and all the tools. Felt good to pass on a rock solid cabin to younger people who will use it and love it like it should be. And both of them are Juneau kids who went to school with Jeff and Teri and Jeanne and Ron’s kids. I’m sure I’ll go back to pick berries, but don’t have remorse from selling the place. I hadn’t been getting there even once a month anymore, and friends who used to use it sometimes now have wives and other lives. I’m excited for the new owners. And feeling a little old.

October Deer Hunting

Went down to Craig soon after I returned from Ecuador. Charlie was supposed to join me soon after I arrived. Then he slipped on his deck when drinking coffee and smoking a heater, I’m sure, as that’s why he was out there – and he fell on his hand and sprained his wrist. So no Charlie this year.
The weather was back to regular October weather. Pouring rain and blowing the rain sideways. The rain without the wind is tolerable as it allows travel by boat to hunting spots. But the wind makes the travel and safe anchoring marginal, plus worrying about your boat dragging anchor all day if you do get there.
The first day was in middle October, when the bucks are not moving all that much. But I hoped there would still be some salal berries out as I was getting low on jam I’d made a couple years earlier, so I went to a berry hotspot where Charlie and I have taken several deer. My hip has been bugging the crap out of me ever since I returned with Kurt on the tug from Ketchikan, and I’ve been getting worried about my hiking abilities. But the hike in went well. I got a couple big Costco nut jars full of berries, and called in a few deer but no bucks. A real nice day.
Ellen mentioned a friend’s advice to freeze the salal berries whole, on the stem, before picking them off the stem. The salal berries grow more like grapes than they do blue berries. And the berries don’t pick off their stem that easy. Her friend was right. The berries separated from the stem much easier, and there was very little chafe in the berries like there was the last time I made jam. Nice.
The weather was crappy the next few days, so I made jam. I put about 1/2 the volume of sugar as the volume of berries and when the berries were good and cooked, I used an immersion blender I got at Vera’s garage sale to pulverize everything, then canned the jams. I think I got half a dozen half pints. I gave one to Barb when she brought by a dozen of her hen’s eggs.
I didn’t get back out for several more days due to weather. I returned to berry patch site as I knew it would be a safe anchorage compared to some others in the weather. I hiked in further than I did on the first day to spots we’d taken deer. I saw some doe but no bucks. I picked some berries on the way out, as I found some really honey holes near the beach. Then it started pouring again and I thought: are you really going to keep picking berries in this downpour? I hiked out to the beach, swapped my cork boots for regular Xtra Tuffs, pulled in the boat, then pulled on the punt, and headed towards home. I cranked up the heater today, and it felt good to be warm.
After a few more days of sideways rain, I got out one more day. I tried a new island I’d not hunted on the advice of my brother in law. I found a nice muskeg on OnX. As I entered the bay, there was a deer on the beach. Or so I thought. When I looked through the binoculars, I thought it wasn’t a deer now, as it looked like rocks. Then the rocks moved, and I saw it was a deer. From the way it moved, I thought for sure it was a buck. But I needed to be sure sure. I idled in and it wasn’t all that nervous, and then I saw it was a buck. A medium fork horn.
The beach wasn’t very long and I didn’t think I could run to the end of the beach to get off and shoot and think the deer wouldn’t go back in the woods. I thought I’d try to idle around the point out of sight of the deer, and then come back through the woods to the beach behind him. But just as I got to the point, he’d had enough and walked back into the woods. Oh well. As I headed further into the bay to get to the muskeg, here comes a doe and yearling down the same beach to the water’s edge.
I went in the bay a little further and when I got across from the muskeg I wanted to go to, the anchorage wasn’t good, so I kept going til it was. I’d side hill it to the muskeg.
As I got into the woods, it looked alot steeper than I expected it to be, but I started side hilling it up the hill. Once I got going, my hip actually feels better when I get it going. Probably took me 30 to 45 min to get up to the muskeg. It was a perfect setting, with me perched above and where I could call and not be seen too easily and be in a spot where deer could come from lots of directions without me seeing them till they were close.
I called for an hour or two. I called a couple of doe in, but no bucks. It was a beautiful day in the sun and I didn’t want to leave. I figured I’d take a short cut and go straight down to the beach, then follow the beach back to the boat. The going down was nice and easy for the first little while. Right down through some muskeg grass. Then I came to the edge. It wasn’t sheer, but almost. I picked my way down slowly and carefully. I eventually got to the beach fringe, and started back to the boat. Across some creek bottoms and around deadfalls. I got to a spot I could make it easily to the beach, and I took the bait. I got down to the water’s edge, and followed it back towards the boat. Then I ran out of beach and into rocks that fell right off to 4 to 6 feet of water. So I had to scramble up the rock with tightly knit brush until I got back up the to the beach fringe, then finally made my way back to the boat. I’ve never been happier I didn’t get a deer! It would have been a serious chore getting it out of that place. I doubt I’ll go back there.
Made my way home, and decided when I got back and looked at the forecast I better get back to Juneau. With another volunteer consulting trip coming up, it looked like I’d have a one or two day window where I could fly and then it might be shut down again for another week, and I didn’t want to risk not getting back to get ready.
I started to button things up, and by the next day was ready to head home with no deer. Approaching 60, getting deer isn’t as big of importance as it used to be. Hopefully when I get back in early December I’ll still have time to take a trip on the tug closer to home.