Springtime Retrieval Friday

Larry and I put the bow ramp back on his boat yesterday, after he took it off to have a receiver plate welded to the top for ramps to attach to the bow ramp for loading tractors, etc. for transport. We also put on new “Ruth Evelyn” vinyl signage on the boat. It’s beautiful spring weather right now. Sunny and in the 40’s during the day. About perfect weather for me. I don’t need it any warmer. Lots of boat owners were at their boats, taking advantage of the spring weather, readying their boats for spring and summer use.

This morning, I drove up to road to load a big pipe I’m going to use as a culvert. My boat trailer is empty, and the 30″ diameter pipe was about the same length as my boat, so it fit perfect when the operator loaded it on with a forklift. Problem was getting it off when I got home. I tried jacking the rear end up with a floor jack, but now what?   I tried various iterations but no dice. Then I saw it. Back up to a nearby tree, chain the end of the pipe to a tree, and drive away. Perfect!  Now I have  my empty trailer back.

Next, I met Larry at the boat about noon. Another bluebird day, and finally the winds have laid down. We ran the boat around to my boat at Horse Island. I brought lunch because, well, after a year with Larry, you know to bring lunch. Smoked black cod, sharp cheddar cheese, and Ritz crackers. I could see Larry savoring every bite, and every other cracker sandwich he offered me. Such a treat.

As we rounded Middle Point, Larry pointed out a cow and calf orca whale.

We pulled into the anchorage where my boat was bobbing nicely behind Horse Island. We first pulled my crab pots and loaded them on board. Then Larry dropped me off on my boat, which I untied from the haulout line, and then paddled the boat out to deeper water, where Larry backed in and we tied my boat off to a tow line. We took a leisurely hour tow into the Auke Bay launch ramp. We saw a pretty big pod of harbor porpoises near Colt Island, then a little pod of Dall Porpoise joined us by the Colt Island reef. We could clearly see them speeding by the boat in the clear spring water. It never gets old.

We arrived at Auke Bay about an hour later. I had dropped my truck and boat trailer earlier in the day, and Kurt had picked me up and dropped me off at Larry’s boat. Larry dropped me and my boat off to the dock, and then proceeded to the idle up the coast to the drive down crane dock a little further north.

I put my boat on the trailer, and dropped it off at the boat mechanic to troubleshoot the injector error issue on the smart gauge, then returned to pick up Larry and we headed to town in more sunshine.

man on sled with moose on sled on bright snow of alaska

Dipnetting for Moose

man on sled with moose on sled on bright snow of alaska

Author headed south from the Yukon River to the Kuskokwim River with a load of moose meat.  Photo by Valerie Bue.

 

With Covid waning somewhat and a vaccine available, the stars otherwise lined up for another trip of a lifetime to hunt moose in the winter from Bethel. I arrived mid-day on Wednesday and Doug and Valerie had much of the trip preparations already taken care of. Their friend Phil would join us. Like Pat, he’s a wildlife manager for ADFG. I used Doug and Val’s extra snowgo, and Pat loaned us an extra tow sled. Weather was forecast in the 20’s with not too much wind.

We got started about 9 pm. We headed out of town. There was snow, but not much and certainly no new snow. The trail was hard and icy in most places, but not bad otherwise.

About 15 miles out, the mount on the main suspension shock on Phil’s snow go broke. We put Phil’s snow go into one of the tow sleds. Phil rode the snogo in the sled, and Dug said he could make engine sounds in his throat as he was towed back to town. We arrived back to Bethel, and Phil quickly swapped for another of his family snogos, and we were on our way by about noon.

Although I’d taken this same trip on the same trail a few years ago, it was like the first time. The earlier trip was thick fog, and while I returned on a fog tree trail that trip, the direction you are going in this country looks very different traveling north versus traveling south, as the horizon has different mountain ranges and hills in the distance.  We passed some dead snogos on the trail. One that hadn’t been abandoned very long had a coat hanging from it, and that was kind of spooky.

We traveled north to the Yukon River, about 70 miles away. Most of the trip is over tundra, with increasing brush as you reach the Yukon River drainage. We stopped for lunch about half way there. We had made sandwiches of sliced moose roast, raw onion, and either mayonnaise or horseradish, and they were the best sandwiches ever. We made camp about 15 miles from the river in a rare stand of small spruce trees, which provide a good wind block. There were tracks everywhere as soon as we left the tundra and entered the brush. Fox, marten, lynx, moose, and maybe wolverine. After an hour setting up camp, we headed on to the Yukon River, arriving about 430 pm.

We crossed the river to an island covered in willows, the primary winter food of moose here.  The willows were all about 7 feet tall, and not a single tree was unmolested. And, there was lots of moose scat. Clearly, there were lots of moose here. It took perhaps 15 minutes, when we started seeing moose, then more moose, and more moose. Groups of one or two here, 3 or 4 there, and some groups even bigger. The moose were a little nervous as I would stop to try for a shot. It wasn’t about closing the distance, but getting a clear shot at the vitals. Much of the time the moose was standing in the brush, with only the upper shoulder, hump and head visible. I’m not comfortable shooting a moose in the head at any distance over 20 yards as there’s so much mass there that could simply injure the animal, and not kill it.

Phil and I were the shooters, and he soon took a fork in a trail when he saw a moose. I continued traveling the trails, trying for a shot. Finally, a cow presented herself for a shot, and she fell where she stood. Phil already had a moose down, and I looked for more as the limit is two moose. Thankfully, I got my wits about me and thought – lets process these two first before we take any more. We’d already arrived late, and it was slowing moving towards dusk.

I’d taken a very large cow.  I pulled up alongside her with my snogo and sled. Doug unhooked the sled, and slid it under the side of the moose. Doug, Val and I then all got on one side of moose, and pushed for all we were worth and it piled right into the sled. I hooked up the sled, and returned to the fork where I left Phil, unhooked my sled, then proceeded to find Phil, who was not far down the trail working on his animal, also a large cow.

The 4 of us butchered Phil’s moose. We didn’t keep the hide, and laid the moose pieces on a tarp on the sled, and then bundled up the tarp to keep the moose in place and protected.  The sun was setting as we moved the short distance up the trail to my moose. We broke our headlamps out, and took a little break to stretch our backs before starting in on the butchering. A nice moose came out  in the open right next to use not 50 yards away. I don’t think any of us thought it would be a good idea to take a third moose.  Moose hunting here is like subsistence fishing for salmon.   Not with a gillnet though, since you can set out your net into a school of fish and before you can get it in, have way more than you want. Moose hunting here is more like dipnetting. You can meter your harvest and quit before you get too many.

Doug and I discussed this massive animal we were slowing taking apart. How would I ever pack a quarter if I had to?  Could I ever do it?  They just seemed too heavy to imagine I could. The four of us got the hide off.  Phil and Doug then did the cutting while Val and I did the the pushing and pulling of the limbs to get the quarters off. Then Phil and Doug worked their knives around the brisket. They pulled the brisket plate off, then pulled on the rope we’d tied around the esophagus and trachea to pull these towards the back, and then all the insides piled out of the moose. Next Doug started cutting off the rips while Phil worked on the neck. We cut the backbone in about half, loaded all the parts on the tarp in my sled, piled the tarp around the meat, and headed for camp. Snow white ptarmigan with their jet black tails exploded on wing in front of us as we traveled through the edge of the willows,

We arrived at camp about quarter past midnight. Valerie had made chicken and potato salad the day before for our dinner, but everyone decided to just crawl into our sleeping bags and hit the hay. What a day. Lucky for me, Phil had brought some super cool and skookum cots for the two of us. Called Roll a Cot, they only weigh 10 lbs, fold up into a compact carry, and are stout enough to hold my lard ass. Having learned from Brian than cots make all the difference in camping, I was thrilled. I felt guilty when Val harassed me the next day about not being a gentleman and offering her my cot, but I got over it pretty quick. She’ll have a cot to sleep on soon enough.

We got up the next morning about 8 am. It was well after sunrise, which surprised me when I exited the tent, since the double walls of the arctic oven blocked out the early morning sunlight. Of course we were all famished now, and Doug passed around the chicken. He also handed out some large chocolate covered salted caramel candies. The coffee in my thermos was still warm. When Phil started the fire in the little wood stove for the tent, we reheated the coffee in a pan, and enjoyed relaxing sitting on our cots and sipping coffee. Phil asked if I’d punched my tag and I realized I hadn’t, so I did that right then before I forgot.

We were in no hurry now. Doug tried to bait us to go back and get more moose, but nobody bit. We leisurely dismantled camp, loaded up our sleds, adjusted our facemasks and goggles, and headed for town in lovely spring weather of about 20 degrees. Like last  year, when we got near Bethel, we took a different route out to the Kwig River and then to the Kuskokwim. It was Friday now, and lots of activity. Lots of trucks were in one spot with people jigging for pike through the ice. Trucks were headed upriver on the ice road, some likely headed for Aniak for the camp out race back to Bethel the next morning.

We worked our way back to Bethel. When we arrived back at the house, we stretched our bones for awhile.  I helped Doug put together a rack in his shed to hang our meat. He then cut several pieces of cord for hanging. Doug and I then manhandled the quarters into the shed and hung the quarters from the rack with the cord.  Now it was time to really relax. We had soup with fresh moose for dinner. Doug played a legendary cd of music about Bethel called Paris of the Kuskokwim, and I enjoyed it so much I ordered it online for home. Now that I’ve been to town a few times, I at least sort of get the fun in the songs.

Val and Doug invited Pat and Louise and Sam and Santina and their kids for dinner the next day, as they wanted to hear about the hunting. Val broke out some of the halibut I brought out with me for them to make her signature halibut pie.  Conversation centered around hunting and trapping. And dog mushing. Dog mushing in Bethel is like hockey in Minnesota or wrestling in Iowa. Everyone knows the mushers personally, having either grown up with them, or worked or socialized with them in the community, and/or married into their families. There was a weekend race going on called the camp out race, I think. The mushers run their dogs or drive with their teams in their vehicles up the ice road on the Kuskokwim River to Aniak, camp over night, and then race back to Bethel the next day. Non-mushers go up and camp and follow the teams back to Bethel as well. There may have been some prize money, but it wasn’t much. The race is more of a fun run and spring tradition.

On Saturday, Doug and I started in on the butchering in the shed while listening to old time country music on KYUK until it was time for the March Madness games streaming on XM radio on my phone.

I deboned the four quarters into game bags, and each quarter averaged about 45 lbs each in meat. Doug cut the ribs to size for their instapot, They love moose ribs, and there’s lots of ribs on a moose. Doug also trimmed the meat off the neck, which is considerable. We then cut out the back straps, the meat between the ribs below the back straps, and the tenderloins. Doug and Valerie ground this for burger and it totaled 50 about 1 lb packs, and they were happy campers. We saved the bones and brisket for their neighbor, and also trimmed a front quarter that Pat gave her.

The Camai dance festival was also going on. It’s a big deal, with dance groups from all over coming in, and this year’s event was the first semi-normal one after the event was cancelled for the past year or two due to Covid. Louise mentioned there were vendors selling wares. I noticed she was wearing some ivory earrings of Billikens. I thought- I should have gone over to get something for Sara.  Of course I had this revelation on Monday, after the event was over. I asked Louise about earrings, and luckily she found some vendors were advertising on Facebook after the dance. I found some earrings I thought Sara would like, and arranged to go get them after Doug and I returned from checking his traps.

On Monday, we headed out to some beaver ponds not far from town on the snogos to check Doug’s sets. He had three sets of 330’s set for beaver and otter.  We took .22’s in case we found some ptarmigan.  The sets were empty, and Doug reset them all. We got near a small flock of ptarmigan on the way home, and Doug got one.   Doug sent me a photo today and said he got a beaver in one of the sets.

We ran over to get the earrings. I was met by a nice elder woman who thanked me in Yupik for buying her creations. We refilled the gasoline jugs we’d used on the hunting trip, and I was surprised to see the fuel price was the same as Juneau. Modern snogos seem incredibly efficient, as Doug thought we’d burned about 10 gallons per machine going to and from the Yukon River, including the switch back for Phil’s sled. And pulling all the camping gear and  moose in the tow sleds.

One of Val and Doug’s good friends, and also a friend to my niece, asked us over for dinner on Monday. They have a new house on Brown’s Slough, and their 2 year old is like a grandson to Doug and Val. The mother is a nurse at the hospital, and dad works on the slope. The chili for dinner was made from chicken and white beans. I’d never had it before and it was fantastic. The couple had grown up together in Bethel and loved living there, it seemed.

The meat I brought home as luggage made it fine in two 33 gallon totes, and the meat I air freighted in two similar totes came in early the next morning. I butchered one tote of meat after working my part time job back at ADFG before the scout meeting, then a second tote after the scout meeting. I did about 90 lbs in 5 hours, so about 18 lbs an hour is my rate to dissect, trim, portion, bag, vac pack and put the meat into the freezer. Why I care about this measure, I don’t know. I did the front quarters tonight, and they took a little longer, but Sara helped by doing the vac packing and labeling. Part of the satisfaction of butchering is thinking about the whole trip you did getting the meat.

We had moose pepper steaks with onions and peppers over fresh salad both nights.

Tenakee Run

Went to Tenakee with Larry and his friend, Pastor Gordon Blue, and a couple people heading to Tenakee, along with a load of freight. Lumpy run down Chatham, and really lumpy across the mouth of Freshwater Bay as the tide was stacking up against the wind. Once we turned into Tenakee Inlet, it was flat calm all the way to town. We saw the usual group of sea lions lounging on their haulout.
We offloaded quickly with our extra help. Gordon was a career crab fisherman before a pastor, so was a great help. We picked up a short term deckhand from the crane dock, and took him with us to help Nick and Molly load their table saw at their beach to send it to their friend in Juneau.

He was a fun 30 something to talk to. He’s met his wife in Idaho, she visited his family in Tenakee, and said “let’s move here!”. So they did. The kid said he was doing odd jobs around town, which I think can be a full time job in this town of retirees and continuous construction, remodel, appliance repair, commercial fishing, and firewood cutting.  When I asked what his dad did, it sounded like the same thing. And his dad was a Toyo stove fixer, which is always in demand. I thought how refreshing it was to meet someone (and apparently his father) just living sort of in the moment, and not on some career path or corporate ladder or professional job with a mortgage. Remote, community life as in much of Alaska’s rural communities without a road system. A lot different perspective that those of us in larger towns with soccer practice and Costco and running around all the time. Every passenger we take to or from Tenakee seems to have their own unique story.

I did all the driving and maneuvering this trip. Earlier, Larry would do the close up work around the docks, and I’d take over for the open water driving. I’m finally getting the hang of twin jets with Larry’s coaching. The main thing to remember is whether you are going forward or reverse, turn the wheel in the direction you want the bow to go. When maneuvering, you generally put the boat in gear, at an idle, and then use the forward and reverse levers on the jets to move to the moorage.  Larry picked it up a lot faster than I did, and now he’s getting me there.

The way home was a lot better seas. We made it back in half the time as the trip down, as we had a lighter load and ran on step the whole way. Still not many boats out this time of year, and I saw one humpback whale heading north near the Kittens Islands at Funter Bay.

Tenakee Whale

Went with Larry on a trip to Tenakee today. As we rounded East Point into Tenakee Inlet, we noticed something different floating to the south. I thought it was some kind of big metal buoy with a lifting eye on it. Others thought it might be an overturned boat. As I idled over towards it, I looked through binoculars and………..it’s a dead whale with a raven on top.

This is the first dead whale I’ve seen up close.  It smelled a bit, but the smell was not overwhelming. As we were approaching the whale, a very live bull orca swam by at a distance. It did not seem interested in the carcass.  Tenakee being Tenakee, several of our passengers from Tenakee are on the whale entanglement response group or did other marine mammal work, so they all got busy taking photos of the whale, the gps position on the plotter screen, and speculating on why the whale may have died.

The whale was clearly a humpback whale, with long white pectoral fins, and it was floating belly up. About 10 to 15 feet of the pleated lower jaw was out of the water. At first I thought it was a juvenile whale. But as we came around to the rear of the whale, I could see the peduncle and the tail – 10 to 15 feet below the surface. So at about 30  feet, this seems to be an adolescent or young adult.

I wondered what this whale had seen in it’s life. From being born elsewhere- probably Hawaii – to it’s migrations to Alaska. Maybe it went back and forth to Hawaii most years, but maybe it stayed here some winters, as humpback whales do. I don’t know enough about humpbacks to tell it’s age, but they can live as long as we do, and maybe longer.

We off loaded people and goods at 2 beach locations in front of passenger’s homes. We arrived right at high tide, so lucky for the passengers to get their goods off loaded so close to their house for a short pack in. I’m still learning to drive the twin jets on the boat, and got backed in to one beach, but we were easily pushed off.

On the way home, we swung over to Corner Bay to pick up some yellow cedar heading to Juneau, and we were on our way.

On our way back to Juneau a couple hours later, a slight chop had replaced the flat calm seas we had on our way in. We could not find the whale again for the young mother and her toddler heading to Juneau with us to see. The whale may have drifted south, and we were heading north, and the chop made seeing it at a long distance more challenging.

We did sight what we thought was the same lone male orca whale we’d seen near the humpback whale, heading the same direction as we were.   Shortly after seeing the whale, I noticed the port engine was a little over normal temperature. I reduced speed to an idle, and turned off the port engine. Larry cleared out the intake screen, where I’d likely sucked up some debris when I got backed into the beach. I restarted the port engine and turned off the starbard engine and Larry cleared that one, too, just to be sure. That solved the port engine issue and we made our way home in about 2 hours. Another trip to Tenakee, and no two are the same.

89

Down in Petersburg again for Superbowl. When I’d last visited my friend at Thanksgiving, I noticed he’d slipped abit both mentally and physically. He’d had a car accident over a year ago, and I was hoping he was still recovering from that. I was hoping, perhaps naively, that it wasn’t just a function of approaching 90. Two and half months later, I was pleasantly surprised. He is getting around much better. He was now walking every day and his balance is much better. Likewise, his mental state was very good. His state of confusion is gone. He was back to his old self.

My friend lives on a rocky beach overlooking a long a channel leading to the mouth of the Stikine River. There’s a mountain range on the other side of the channel. He’s got a small flock of resident gulls, and some resident diving ducks. On the other side of a sliding glass door that leads to a small deck, he has a bird feeder. He told me that he is missing one of his pet gulls (Jonathan) and a particular kind of song bird with an altered tail whose species I forget. They had become like family and he misses them. He has a journal next to the window he’s kept for decades, and denotes things like when the first first geese arrived in the spring, and when the first sandhill cranes flew south in the fall.

Another friend was just back to Petersburg. His brother suddenly passed away recently, and he was returning from the funeral. He and another retired teacher joined us – our usual foursome for Superbowl.

The man who lost his brother related how hot it was where the funeral was, and all the traffic. We each in turn concluded how much we all like the winter season here. One liked to have the quiet time to work on his model airplanes. I enjoyed the skiing and the snow. The retired teacher told of going to his place up in the Yukon Territory with friends from Petersburg for a week of skiing during the day and drinking beer and telling lies at night.

This morning, another retired teacher video called from Mexico and told of taking a neighbor who was not in good health and a vaccination denier to the hospital. It took 12 hours to find a hospital who would take her as she had Covid. As he was talking, my friend and I looked across the bay on a flat calm day in February at the snow covered mountains, with the sea gulls out in front, each picking a rock to sit on to enjoy the sun. My friend related on how good it was to be here in his Senior years, where he had care when he needed it, and where he knows everyone. I thought – this was a view I’d want to have if I couldn’t get out for awhile.

At 89, he still has lots of stories to tell that I haven’t heard. He grew up in his early childhood in Montana. His father was a lawyer, and one way or another, ended up being a lawyer for then Brigadier General Eisenhower. Yes. THAT Eisenhower.  His parents wanted to travel overseas to work, but Eisenhower wasn’t having it, as he’d come to depend on the dad’s counsel.

When his dad had to go overseas with Eisenhower, my friend was sent to relatives in Nebraska during his middle school years, where his grandfather was a professor at Wayne State Teachers College. He had always enjoyed running places. Just running. He also stuttered, and that made him keep to himself to avoid teasing. When he got to Nebraska, he and his classmates were lined up to do some sort of a run- maybe for a fitness test or something. It was something like a run around a quarter mile track, and he said he came in first by 200 yards. This got the notice of the track coaches, and he went on to set records in Nebraska and later in California, where he finished high school  More importantly, it allowed him to gain much needed self esteem, and eventually he cured his stuttering. He went on run track at Cal, and he still closely follows track and field.

This morning, we talked for a couple hours before I had to be at the airport to head back to Juneau. His mother was Ms. Montana in 1934 (I think it was 1934). His grandfather in Montana was a plumber, and would take his young grandson to the saloon for a soda pop. He saw Crow nation Native Americans come to the saloon on horseback, and tie them up outside the saloon. It sounded just like the movies.

February Trip to Tenakee

After postponing due to seas on Tuesday, Larry and I tried again to make it to Tenakee.  We had loads going down and back.  We were delayed about an hour at Auke Bay as passengers were doing last minute shopping, and it was probably a good thing.  A squall came through spitting snow that looks like the insides of a bean bag.
We headed out out about 9 am, and seas were 1 to 2 feet with no white caps.  With our load we were making 14 knots.  I snoozed from Auke Bay to North Chatham, then woke up cold.  I moved up to the captain’s chair and took the helm from Larry to get near the heat.  Seas continued to be fair as we headed south across the mouth of Icy Strait.  We seemed to have caught a weather system change just right.
We arrived in Tenakee between 1 and 2 pm.  I took the opportunity with the light winds to practice steering the jets in tight spots, after watching Larry do it for all the trips till now.  I made it fine into the small boat offloading dock, and our passengers disembarked.  We moved over to the tight spot under the crane along the big dock, and after several tries, I handed it over to Larry, who nestled us in.
Lots of people were up on the dock, including an excellent crane operator, who made the offloading and reloading quick.  We were headed back to Juneau shortly after 3, with just Larry and I on board.
We had a lighter load and made over 22 knots on the way home.  We were back to Auke Bay by 530, and this time I was able to maneuver the boat into a fairly tight spot.  I’m starting to get a feel for it, and Larry’s a patient coach.
Seems like this was the first trip where nothing happened.  No alarms or water where we didn’t want it.  The lack of heat was as expected, and I’d worn my red union suit long underwear in defense.  Hopefully this will be the norm now!