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This Old House

The washing machine leak had finally reached the point that I needed to replace it, since it looked like it was a pump replacement and the old gal wasn’t worth fixing. I’d garage-saled on Sat and saw now washers. On Sunday morning, there was a new advertisement for a rare Sunday garage sale that had a washer. I grabbed my tip money wad from the summer and headed out the door, hopeful it would still be there. When I arrived, it was still there, and looked to be in good shape. The couple said their new house had a washer and dryer so they didn’t need this pair. I paid them for the washer and the husband help me load it in the back of the Aerostar.

Our laundry room fits the washer and dryer. Barely. So first the dryer had to be disconnected and moved out, then the washer. So far, so good. After removing the washer I noticed the floor was spongy under the linoleum. Spongy like I’d felt on the Dutch Master decks when they were rotted. So I cut away the linoleum and saw there was some rot in the flooring.

No sweat. I’ll just cut out a square to the centers of the floor joists and put in a new piece of plywood. Of course when I did this, I saw that the ends of the joists and the bottom of the stud wall were rotted. Now it was getting interesting. At this point I realized I would have to go from the outside in to see what the foundation looked like and how far up the stud wall the rot went. I took off the cedar siding and tar paper, and saw I was in for a project. The wall was rotted down to the sill. When I cleared the rot out, it looked like there was no barrier from the cement foundation to the sill. Even though the sill was pressure treated, it transferred the water from the foundation cement up the wall. I could see the problem was not likely limited to this wall, either, but decided to tackle the rest next summer.

So, it didn’t look too bad. Just take out the old and replace with new, sistering where necessary. The water spigot came out this wall, too. As I was replacing the floor base under the spigot, I pulled it up to get the board under. Whoosh. The piping that teed off the line to the washer to the spigot gave way, and I had a full pressure shot of water coming out. Luckily I’d had a valve installed to easily shut off the water to the house years ago, and so turning it off was easy.

I set out sweat the spigot pipe back in. Got the flux, solder and torch and went to work. Problem was that I couldn’t get the pipe hot enough because of water still in the line. I you-tubed a solution and saw I needed to cut the line before and after the tee so I could drain the line, then rejoin and put in the spigot line. I tried doing it all like I watched on the you tube and Tommy on This Old House. Put it all together and turned on the water. And sprinkler city. By now it was late in the day, so I wrapped the pipe as best I could to keep the leaks to a drip so Sara could have water, and called it a day.

The next day, I remembered seeing another you tube about new fittings that worked for copper and pex called shark bite fittings. How could I not know about these? I recut the piece from the day before, went to Good Hardware for a length of pex and the fittings, and was back in business. You can even take the fittings apart with a simple little plastic tool, which of course I had to several times.

I finally got the piping tight, and started in on the floor joists. At 20, I might have thought this too big a job or would have tried to find a book about it. At 50, I’ve seen this stuff before. It was just a matter of sistering new lengths here and there, putting some extra blocking in between the joists so I had something to support the floor, and putting in a pony wall between the floor joist base and the section of wall that had rotted. Pretty simple work and a sense of accomplishment with every piece replaced. Of course it always takes longer than you think down the home stretch. Thought I was about done when the tar paper went up outside. Then realized I had to still put in the spigot, which meant going to buy a new one, and also a redo for the dryer venting. Then an extra piece of dry wall to cover up near the floor where the drywall on the wall was tore out. Then put the replacement floor pieces in under the units, and put in some
connecting rubber floor matting I’d garage-saled years ago under the washer and dryer. So 6 days after what was going to have been a simple replacement, we had our new washer. Mama was happy, so everybody was happy.

First deer hunt

Went to the cabin and picked berries for a few hours in the evening and planned to hunt Admiralty the next day.  It rained all through the night and I thought it was going to be another berry picking day as I didn’t want to hunt this early in the season in the rain, but then the rain stopped about 8 am and I got my gear together and headed out.  The wind was wrong to hunt the spot I wanted to on Admiralty, so I headed over to Douglas Island.  I headed to mostly new country today, and got into some nice spots for calling but didn’t see any deer.  I wonder how many the 2 wolves that appear to be living there are getting these days.  I did find some bumper crops of blue huckleberries, and almost got so obsessed with picking I was going to end up getting out of there at dark.  Planned on coho fishing on the way home but it was too late and I was too bushed and dehydrated to stop.  My water bottle is sitting full on the cabin table as I write this.

Moose Hunt

Bob, Kurt and I tried our hand at moose hunting on opening days (Sept 15-16).  I talked with a few people familiar with the area and got the general layout of the land from the cabin to where the moose might be.  We loaded our gear and headed to Amalga harbor for the trek to our hunting area.  When we got there, the parking lot was full, and it was pea soup fog.  We waited about 4 hours for it to lift.  When we could see about a mile we thought it had lifted and so headed out.  Only to find that it was just a break in the fog, and soon we were out in Lynn Canal in more pea soup fog.  All eyes looked for boats while I traveled by GPS in flat calm water all the way to the cabin.  We found the cabin easily, and got settled in.  The cabin is located right on the beach, so no long packs of gear and camping equipment.  Bob was on for dinner than night, and we had asparagus with steaks cooked over charcoal in the fire pit.
There was more fog the next morning but by about 10 am it had lifted enough to see. The three of us headed out.  It was about a mile and half or 2 mile hike from the cabin to the mainland over connections between land masses that were islands at high tide and connected at low tide.  We saw bear tracks in the sand – maybe a sow and 3 year old cub or so.  We also saw what looked like canine tracks of either a small wolf or coyote.  Geese were honking and flying regularly around the bay, and terns were diving on balls of feed in the bay.
It was kind of the blind leading the blind as we tried to decipher where we were an where my friend had told me to hunt.  When we finally found some moose scat in a small copse of spruce trees looking out on a little bog of alders surrounded by more spruce, we spread out and I tried to cow call.  I’d never really done it for real, but had watched some you tubes on it and practiced the days before we left.  I found a patch of high bush cranberries, then called and picked for awhile, called again and picked for awhile, and more of the same.  After maybe 45 minutes, I figured we’d move so I shouldered my pack and gun and headed over to where Kurt and Bob were.  Kurt signaled to me that there was a moose Bob had seen, and when I got close enough to whisper he said a big cow had come in.  When we got over to Bob, he said the cow had moved on, but had definitely come in to my call, advancing each time I called again, until finally drifting off.  I hoped there might be a bull around so I scraped a tree with a scapula and might have bull called (I forget) but no more moose.  Kurt didn’t see the moose, but heard it walking in the boggy ground.  I had not a clue, and was pretty happy my first try called in a moose.
That was the only moose we’d see.  We kind of drifted around from meadow to meadow, and it looked alot like Gustavus to me.   We timed our return to have enough land between the islands and were none too soon as the lowest of the land bridges was awash not long after we crossed it.  We were all bushed at the end of a day of several miles of hiking, and got right into the PBR as soon as we made the cabin.   Kurt made a fantastic dinner of coho salmon with rosemary on top and lemon slices on top of that cooked in a cast iron fry pan over a wood fire with a piece of tin foil placed loosely over the top.    We had some rice and squash Kurt cooked in water with butter.
The next day Kurt’s knee had had enough so he decided to stay put at the cabin.  Bob and I realized we could use the boat to cut maybe 3/4 of a mile or so off the walk through the islands and make it so we didn’t have to worry about making it back before high tide.  We found some meadows we hadn’t hunted the day before and did some more calling.  I wanted to get us over to another area between 2 rivers where we were told most of the moose hunting occurs, but ended up getting us semi-lost for about 2 hours walking around in some old second growth forest, walking around in a circle before I realized my GPS was not hooked to the satellites so the position I would see from time to time was false.  When I realized this, I put Bob in charge of navigation.  He figured out where we were, put the sun at 2 o’clock, and quickly got us back to a great area to call.  It also held a bonanza of cranberries and I picked a full gallon bag there.  But no moose.
It got to be late in the day as we headed back to the boat.  We went on the wrong side of the peninsula we had anchored the boat, and so had to walk around it back to the boat, but it turned out not to be as far as we feared.  We came across our tracks on the beach from the day before, and a bear had walked in our tracks at some time over the past 30 hours.  
When we reached the cabin, Kurt had had a great day.  He’d met a guy fishing in his skiff who was familiar with the area so got a little more intel on the area.  Unfortunately, he’d not made dinner as planned, so I took over as it was my turn anyway and Bob and I were in more of a hurry to rehydrate with PBR than eat right away.  I made moose burger with beans and onions and spices and cheese melted in at the end in the cast iron pot over the wood fire and then we went inside and made burritos with them.  I was surprised at how salty it came out, and Bob said the canned black beans likely made it that way, so I’ll remember that for next time.  Two days of flat calm weather with a little rain over night and perfect weather for hiking.  We told stories the rest of the night until the Jim Beam was empty and went to bed.

We got up when we felt like it the next morning, and had muffins Bob had brought with my cherry jam with coffee for breakfast.  We gradually started packing up our gear and carrying it out to the beach on another bluebird morning.  We loaded up and then cruised the entire bay hoping for a wayward moose out on low tide but did not see any.  It was a flat calm run across Lynn Canal back to Amalga Harbor, and I am really happy with my new boat, although still a few kinks to work out. I’m looking forward to taking Sara back there, perhaps a great place to spend Christmas.

Pink Salmon, Sockeye, Canadians, and Cherry Jam

Spent a day canning about 30 pink salmon worth of fillets.  The fish came out great as the pinks were big and bright.  It kills me people who think they are “true Alaskans” turn their nose up at pink salmon.  The fish were bled and handled like king salmon and taste great.  I cut the fish into chunks when still semi frozen and packed the jars, which I realize now was not wise since some jars weren’t plumb full after the fish fully thawed but live and learn.  I also used reusable lids for the first time, and went through a little learning curve on those, too.  Did the canning on a single burner propane stove up in the garage, so didn’t even smell up the house.
Then Ron and  I went to Haines weekend before last. Up on Saturday, get off the ferry, hook up Roy’s boat, and head to the river.  We arrived at the river at 2 pm ish and had 30 sockeye by 530 or so.  Ron called it a day so we would not have to clean at night.  We got back to Roy’s, pressure-bled and cleaned the fish in about an hour as Ron and I have been doing this trip together now for 4 years or more so know the routine – including ordering pizza for dinner.  
Next day I got up pretty early eager to pick cherries.  Roy thought they were mostly past due, but they looked great to me.  I got out ladders and started picking cherries.  I think I got about 4 gallons of whole cherries.  I put them in a bag, and the bag in a box, and then used a hand pitter to pit them on the ferry ride home.  I figured nearly a 1:1 ration time for picking to pitting – 2 hours to pick and 2 hours to pit.  

I pureed them the next day, and then put them in the freezer as I wouldn’t have time to make jam for about a week.  My friend from the Peace Corps, Joe, came up from Smithers, BC, with his two children – aged 7 and 11.  Joe and his main squeeze came up to fish with me my first year on the Dutch Master, and I went down to their place a few times, but all before the kids.  So this was my first time to meet them.  I picked them up from the ferry and told them I’d been waiting their whole lives to meet them.  Could not have had 2 better-behaved kids.  No whining.  No crying.  No fighting.  They were up for doing anything we were doing, and never said “I’m bored” or “It’s raining” or “I don’t like that food”.  Not being used to kids around full-time, I had to explain that many of the words I said meant “happy”.  Kathryn said there sure were alot of words that meant “happy”.  

Could not catch them a fish or a legal crab.  We walked around Horse Island and they enjoyed tide pooling and exploring in general.  They loved the smoked salmon and deer kabobs and spaghetti with moose burger sauce. They swam at the pool while I delivered fish on Friday, then all 4 of us went for an open skate, and those kids looked like they were born with skates on their feet.  I was sad to put them on the ferry home.
After they left I pulled the cherries from the freezer to make jam.  Wish I’d had more rhubarb, but it’s late for that now.  Ron donated about 6 cups from his freezer.  I used 30 cups pureed cherries, 6 cups pureed rhubarb, 2 cups water, 2 cups sugar and 2 cups birch syrup, along with 10 packs of no-sugar pectin.  Set up pretty good, although not quite firm.  Might leave out the 2 cups of water next time if I use the birch syrup, and add another box or 2 of pectin.  Tastes great, though, and likely won’t last long, and handed out half pints to my coworkers yesterday.  With the jam and pink salmon jarred for the season, we’ll have plenty for the winter.  We’re off to a moose hunt near Juneau on Sunday, and hoping for some good weather and at least a look at one.

Prince William Sound Pink Salmon

Spent much of the last 2 weeks in PWS.  I first went out on a boat to test fish with purse seine gear for pink salmon coming into the sound.  Since this is an even year, the pink return is expected to be lower than the odd year, but it looks like it will be another strong year.  Valdez Arm may be a record return.  We make three sets, estimate how many fish we catch, then let them go, except for about 30 fish that we pull otoliths to see what the wild to hatchery ratio is at the time.  The thing I look forward to most going to Cordova is eating at Baja Taco.  Best food I’ve had in Alaska.  The fish burrito or any breakfast meal is fantastic.   
A few days later, I went back to PWS, this time to chase pink salmon up their spawning streams.  Baja Taco was again a highlight of the trip.  We were there to collect otoliths and tissue samples for a genetic study.  We traveled on a 28 foot planing hull with an outboard that was a tight fit for the 4 of us, but everyone was good natured about it and knows going in about the tight quarters.  We anchor near the stream, then take a small inflatable raft with outboard to the stream mouth, and then walk upstream maybe half a mile and start collecting pink salmon with a beach seine – and if that doesn’t get all we need, we collect more with landing nets.  On the very first stream, my two collegues were in front of me, and I was trailing behind saddled with a backback of the sampling gear.  As they came to bend in the creek, I decided to cut across a grassy area in a straight line to catch up with them further up stream.  I heard them say “hey bear” as they rounded the corner, thinking this was just a practice to let any bears know we were there.  Then I heard a quick growl, saw the grass moving across my horizon 40 yards away, then heard one of my collegues say there were 2 bears (grizzly bears, it turns out) that they’d scared up into the woods.  So glad I wasn’t further across the field or they might have scared them right on top of me.  Each day, during the time we’d travel from stream to stream, the weather would be overcast with little or no rain.  As soon as we got to the stream to start work, it would start raining.  And not just a drizzle.  Torrential downpour.  We’d do our work the next 3 hours in the pouring rain, then pack up, and head back to the boat.  Within 20 minutes of arriving back at the boat, the rain would quit until our next stop.  This happened time after time after time.  We tied up in Valdez on day 2 near the Coast Guard station.  I bought a new poly pro hoodie as the cotton one I had was not appropriate for all the rain.  2 days later we landed in Whittier, then back to Anchorage and I caught the noon flight back to Juneau after 5 days of good  exercise in the PWS wilderness.