Just back from this year’s deer hunt. Nick, Amanda, and I planned to hunt the outer coast out of the tug, but the wind forecast for the next week was so severe that running the boat myself and actually getting to the hunting spots we imagined wasn’t going to happen. So, we regrouped and decided to go to our cabin in Craig. It would be their first time hunting together since Amanda was mauled by a brown bear a little over a month ago while she and Nick were hunting on Admiralty Island near Juneau. Amanda seemed fully recovered, except for some lingering recovery with her hand.

We hunted for the week, in the best week of deer hunting weather I can ever remember: clear and in the 20s°F every day. It was a little windy the first day, but we quickly learned not to hunt spots directly in the wind. I’d drop the two of them off at a spot, travel to a protected anchorage, anchor the skiff, and hunt that area myself.

The first day, they hunted a spot that is usually good, but it was windy. I went to a new area. I hunted an east-west muskeg, then moved up a north-south muskeg. I didn’t see a thing. I decided to cut back through the woods to the first muskeg, making a triangle track for the day. In a little valley with a creek sheltered from the wind, I blew the call. A doe immediately appeared, staying out of the wind. No buck followed, but at least I saw a deer. When I picked up Nick and Amanda, they said they had hiked all over the good deer spots and saw nothing because the wind was howling.

The next day, we hunted an area I don’t think I’d ever been to. I thought it would be out of the wind. We followed the same routine, with them hunting a big area and me a smaller one. It was another clear day, and we were indeed out of the wind, but the ridge that blocked the wind also blocked the morning sun, leaving the muskeg cold. I called at the beach end of the muskeg—nothing. Moving to the ridge end, I called again and heard snow crunching. It sounded like a deer was approaching behind me, but then I saw it in front. It was strange how the sound carried. A doe came within 30 yards, checked me out, and kept going. She didn’t return to later calls, and no buck showed. The partners didn’t see anything either, despite covering a lot of country.

Amanda took day three off, so Nick and I hunted together. We went to the spot I hunted on day one. I stayed with him at the first muskeg, then sent him ahead since he could cover more ground than I could on my bum hip. Midday, I heard a shot—hopefully Nick’s. I got to the beach early, pulled the boat to shore, loaded my gear, and waited. Right on time, Nick arrived with a 3-point buck’s rack poking from his pack. He had called it from timber near a muskeg. A doe came first, followed by the buck, which stopped behind a tree. Nick kept the doe coming, and when the buck emerged, he took the shot. The doe stayed with the downed buck—a behavior I hadn’t seen before. Nick dressed and skinned the deer on-site, bringing back quarters, neck, ribs, backstraps, and tenderloins. His pack was heavy, and I wondered if I could still carry one of these big bucks out myself. I was probably happier than Nick, as seeing family succeed brings me the most joy now.

The winds picked up as we returned. We battled two- to three-footers back to town. At the boat launch, the False Island docks were rolling with three-foot seas. It took both of us to tie up the boat and trailer it out. Yikes. The forecast called for even stronger winds the next day. Amanda took her day off to have lunch with an old friend in town and learn about his wolf research.

Nick and I butchered the deer the following day while Ellen took Amanda hunting on the road system. They saw no deer but plenty of tracks and had fun. That evening, we watched episodes of Alone. It was season 10, the first Amanda and Nick had seen. I’ve watched every season, but we all enjoyed it together. The Starlink I installed earlier this year was great—especially since you can turn it on and off for remote cabins like this without an annual contract. For now, at least.

Ellen invited us to dinner for deer soup, but it turned into fresh king salmon on the grill, caught by Brian and his pilot friend that day. Brian’s brother and his wife joined us, bringing their own salmon dip to complement ours. We brought salad, and together we had a fantastic meal with lots of hunting conversation.

As the winds eased, we decided to hunt a distant spot where family and friends have had success in the past. I dropped Nick and Amanda at a promising location while I hunted a secluded muskeg. The sun was out, and the winds were calm. I didn’t see any deer, but the exercise and sunshine left me feeling better than I had in a while. Nick and Amanda also saw nothing, but the beautiful weather made the deerless days more bearable. The frozen ground was easy to walk on, and the crisp temperatures in the 20s°F made for perfect hiking conditions.

On the last day, Nick and Amanda wanted to revisit the spot where Nick got his buck and then cruise beaches as the tide fell. While they hunted, I put hand troll gear on the skiff and fished one of my favorite drags. I almost landed what I think was a king salmon and released a small lingcod. At noon, I picked them up; they had seen no deer but were eager to explore the beaches. We spotted one deer that retreated into the woods before we could identify it and another doe that emerged when they used the call.

As we headed home, my fuel gauge—always reading full—deceived me. The engine quit, likely because the tank’s pickup tube wasn’t reaching the remaining fuel. After trying unsuccessfully to fix it, Amanda called Ellen, and Brian came to the rescue. We drifted near town for an hour before Brian arrived, towing us back to the dock at dusk. His preparedness and skill made the process seamless, and we couldn’t thank him enough.

The next morning, clouds rolled in after a week of sunshine. A winter storm watch was in effect for Juneau. On the way to the airport, icy roads made for a nerve-wracking drive. I fishtailed on black ice and crawled at 30 mph to make it safely. The flight home was smooth, and now I’m processing the deer Nick gave me. It’s funny—I used to give away the deer when I was their age. Hopefully, Nick and Amanda will want to join me again for more adventures.

We brought the boat back from Craig this week. We caught a 3 day window of good weather between two blows. We left Craig on Wednesday morning. Our friends Peter and Nevette from Petersburg came to town to make the journey with us.

We left Craig about 830 am and headed north to El Capitan Passage. We had fair seas all the way to Calder Bay, just past the big limestone mine, and anchored at dark, about 630 pm. Sara made a dish with moose and coleslaw for dinner.

Next morning we left just before sunrise at 630 am and headed to Rocky Pass. Sumner Strait had a small chop as we made the 4 hour trip to the pass entrance. We saw several seine and other boats anchored in the area moose hunting, but luckily did not need to pass any vessels while we transited the pass. I followed my track on the gps from my trip south with Joe in May, and was somewhat taken aback that my track at one point went right through a little rockpile island. Not sure how that happens, but I learned to trust your eyes first, and electronics second.

We got through the pass without incident, and only a marginal pucker factor. We saw a blow was coming Friday night, so we ran right until dark again, making it across Frederick Sound to a little anchorage in a bull kelp patch I found on the chart at the entrance to Pybus Bay behind an island with a single row of spruce trees. I hoped from here we could run to Juneau before the storm hit the next day. It was a calm anchorage. The skies cleared off overnight and everyone remarked at the big starry sky they say when each of us got up at some point to pee.

I was up before daylight, pulled the anchor, and we were on our way at 615 am in the false dawn light. Stephens Passage had a slight northerly chop, and we had a hard time even making 6 knots much of the day. We must have been running at exactly the wrong time for the tide, but that’s how it goes. As the day cleared out, the sun came out, the winds calmed, and we rode glassy seas.

We saw many humpback whales along the way. They looked like they were on their fall migration to Hawaii, as they were mostly moving in groups and not feeding. We got quite a breaching show by a couple of whales that were in sight of each other. One would breach, and then the other would breach. Then one would slap its pectoral fin, and then the other would do the same.

We traveled from Pybus Bay all the way to Taku Inlet before we saw a single boat. Whew. Cruise ship season is over.

As we entered Gastineau Channel, the winds had changed around to southerly and increasing, as forecast. Now we had a slight following sea chop propelling us along the last 2 hours of the trip. We made the best time of the day the last 12 miles or so to town, and got in a little ahead of my estimated arrival time. Just as we walked our gear up the ramp to the parking lot, the winds started to blow. We got home just in time.

Chris and his son in law Phil came in for a week from Mississippi and Atlanta. The first day was a blow with heavy rain, so we went to Coffman Cove to the hamburger stand. The next day was calm seas and we headed out fishing. The boys enjoyed lots of whales, as they would every day. We fished near town, and scratched 2 cohos. The boys went beach combing at the anchorage and found a 4 point antler shed and sea asparagus. The next day we landed one coho and lost 2 nice ones. I set the skate at the honey hole. At the anchorage, the boys found a fork horn shed and abundant red huckleberry.

The next morning, we checked the skate. Nothing. I was starting to sweat. Would we rally as we always had and find some fish or was the coho run over?  We rallied. It actually seemed like slow fishing, but we were hooking up on each pass around the drag. We landed seven coho and lost several others.

We reset the skate and anchored nearby. The boys went to the beach while I got dinner ready. Tonight was the salmon frames – the meat left along the backbone after filleting each side. I pan fried them in butter. The boys picked it up and weren’t real sure about it, but after a few bites, they finished their plates and had seconds.

I was up before dawn the next morning. I put the coffee on to boil, and did stretches for my hip. When the coffee was ready, I sipped coffee and saw dawn approaching. The boys were up with the sun.

We checked the skate and nothing again. It was flat calm. I asked them if they wanted to fish for chicken halibut, as now was the time with no wind, or did they want to go back for coho. Halibut was the choice.

We were soon at the chicken hole. Phillip’s first retrieve was a double!  Four fish left to catch. It took a couple hours more, but we got there. I showed them how to fillet halibut, then left them to it while I powered up to the coho drag.

An hour later we were coho fishing. We dragged to the corner, then all the way back up the drag. Nothing. We were the only boat there. I wasn’t sure if that was because charter boats came in early and got nothing, or chartering was done.

Inclement weather was coming, so we headed for the harbor. Dinner at the cabin was panko crusted halibut with potato fries and coleslaw. It was the boys first ever meal of halibut, and they were impressed.

The next day was their last day in town. I’d let the boys decide if they wanted to fish in the pouring rain, or relax. Then serendipity set it. My brother in law asked if we wanted to go see a dead whale with some scientists he was taking to collect samples. From the sounds of it, it would be a quick trip of a couple hours. But I knew better.  The boys were excited to go. I warned them it might be all day, and to dress for the weather.

We headed out with 2 veterinarians and a veterinary tech, my brother in law, and another Craig resident who was friends of the vet crew and whose father had found the whale. As we headed out, one of the vets started to give a safety briefing. We were being conscripted as volunteers on their sampling crew! Exciting.

The whale was on the beach right around the corner from where we’d been coho fishing. A 33 feet sub adult male humpback. This was my first time to see a whale up close on a beach. The first time to touch one. The long white pectoral fins. The eye. The nine foot wide tail. The pleats on the lower jaw that stretch back 3/4 of the length of the animal. The whale barnacles. The whale had not been there long, so was largely fresh.
The vets started right in on looking over the whale for signs of injury. They pointed out some marks that looked like propeller marks. I saw next to the propeller marks scraping that looked like the keel of a boat.

After the initial assessment, the vets soon had all of us helping them to cut or bag samples. My brother in law cut out a sample of the jaw and baleen. Chris took photos at the vets direction. I helped the other vet bag samples of various tissues and fluids. The other Craig resident removed an eye. We were all focused on the work as we kept working against the rising tide, but I was able to look up once in a while to acknowledge we were in the mist on a wilderness island examining a whale. In Alaska. A place that still holds my being.

As the morning turned into early afternoon, the flood tide was nearing the whale. The crew started to cut into the blubber and down to the muscle. They pulled back blocks of blubber with gaffs around the boiler room of the whale. Soon we saw it – a spot of large bruising in the muscle. Just like a deer shows after being shot or hit by a car. The whale looked to me like it didn’t die of natural causes.

When the tide had us scurried up to the tide line and the whale was mostly floating, we retreated with the gear and boarded the boat. We were able to turn the whale over now by pulling on one pectoral fin with the boat, and the vets were able to get one last sample: blow hole fluid from the top of the whale. We left the whale to rest. The island he was on has no bears. I’m not sure if the wolves on the island will eat the whale or leave it to birds, crabs, and other carrion consumers. The boys from Mississippi were almost in a trance at getting to participate in this once in a lifetime experience and had smiles a mile wide. They left the next morning with a wealth of stories to tell.

Chris and Phil are the 10th group of friends here this summer. Tom and Sarah have already confirmed their return, and my friends Al and Don are coming too. It’s been a prosperous summer and I’m ready for a few days of catch-up before trying for some deer.

Ken and his buddy Lawren arrived in their own rental car from Ketchikan. A first for my visitors. Lawren is in his early 80’s, and Ken his late 70s. Both spry and still fishing as often as they can.

The first big blow of the season came that night, and the next day was too windy and rainy to fish. We headed across the island to Coffman Cove to the famous burger stand. The boys were not disappointed for dinner. Counted 30+ deer along the road on the way home.

Ken was one of my early friends and mentors in Juneau. We both liked canning and smoking seafood, and Ken taught me about digging clams. His youngest daughter Lisa helped me sell fish during high school, and was a great help. I’d see the last of the family left in town, his middle daughter Claire, at Mudrooms, the monthly storytelling event, over the winters in Juneau.

Lawren grew up north of Edmonton on a Lake, where his family had a mink farm and commercial fished on the lake. They also trapped. How cool is that.

We got out on Monday bright and early. Ken is a notorious anti-early riser, so I I rushed the boys out the door and said we’d get our second cups of coffee on the boat.   We walked the green mile to the boat and were soon underway.

We headed for the nearby drag for coho, and put the gear out. Lots of whales around. We caught nothing. Maybe a few of these unknown rockfish looking fish we’ve recently run in to, which we released. I found out by the end of the drag the boys would rather fish for whitefish, since they planned to fish for salmon during their week in Juneau after they left here. So change of plans.

Luckily, the wind was light enough that we could go try the spot I discovered when Pat and Sean were here. It’s too deep for me to want to anchor there in nearly 300 feet, so the wind has to be light enough that you can get your gear down to the bottom. We were soon into chicken halibut, and the boys were giddy. Then some big Pacific cod, and the happiness increased. By mid afternoon, we had enough for the day. I headed to the anchorage while the boys cleaned the fish.

The boys were tuckered out by the time they finished cleaning fish. I brought the salmon cream sauce pasta leftovers from Jesse’s trip, and heated that up for an early dinner. The boys made short work of it. It’s one of those dishes that might be better the second or third day, but needs to be hot to be at its best. We spent the late afternoon telling stories and turned in early that evening.

On Tuesday, we went back to the same spot, as the wind was again favorable. The boys soon had several halibut. We decided to try another spot that might have bigger fish, and also was near the kelp and oyster farm of my friend. Ken was once the ADFG permitting lead for mariculture farms, so was interested to see it. We caught a yelloweye rockfish we had to return. We rigged a deep water release for it, but the fish was so big with so much buoyancy that we had to add several more little cannon ball sinkers to take it to the bottom. One more chicken halibut and we headed for the harbor. The boys had all the white fish they needed.

The boys cleaned the fish on the way to the harbor. We tied up in the harbor. I hooked up my hose to the freshwater on the dock, and we got to skinning, rinsing, portioning and bagging the fish for the freezer. We finished in about an hour, tidied up the boat, and headed for home.

I told the boys to relax while I got the fish into the freezer. They both had worked hard reeling up fish from 280 feet, then cleaning them all. They sipped on some red wine.

Ken mentioned in passing on the boat that he missed eating venison. After putting the fish on racks in the freezer,  I pulled out packages of moose  and black tail deer. When Ken asked if we should order pizza for dinner, I said no. I had a surprise dinner in store for them. I’d bought salad at the store on the way home, and topped that with a jar of sea asparagus I canned earlier in the summer, along with some Parmesan cheese, while the venison defrosted in the microwave. I pulled the meat when it was still mostly frozen so I could cut narrow steaks. I seasoned the pieces and put them out to thaw. Then we all took naps for about an hour and a half. I got up and cut most of the little bag of small red potatoes I bought with the salad, brushed on olive oil, and put them in the toaster oven to roast. When the potatoes were about 5 minutes from being done, I quick fried the venison steaks like Bob showed me so long ago now it seems in Ketchikan.

The boys awoke hungry, and obviously enjoyed their dinner. It had been some time since either had eaten venison. Their offspring are not hunters, and they were getting up there in age and not able to hunt like they used to. That made the meal more gratifying for me. I see that day coming myself.

I awoke at 3 am on Wednesday to vac pack their fish and weigh them for luggage. Ken popped his head in about 4 am. He’s got COVID, he said. His first time!  Lawren does, too. Not his first time. Second group this year that’s had it, and like the first one, not sure if they brought it with or caught it here. I had it last month from the first group so hopefully I’ve got the antibodies helping me.

Had Jesse here the past few days. He is the husband of one of Sara’s early students, Hanni, who is like our niece. She knows this because I gave her my prized possession—a Swiss Army knife with all the gadgets—when she left for the Peace Corps. The knife was given to me by a Japanese dentist at Wood River Lodge who could not break me of my habit of cutting my fishing line knots with my teeth. Hanni met Jesse in the Peace Corps in Guyana. And of course, he’s known as Jesse the Body in our household, after my favorite professional wrestler and governor.

Jesse came over on the ferry. I thought we’d go right on the boat that evening, but it was raining and foggy, so we started first thing the next morning. We were on our way to my outer fishing drags when we saw a pile of charter boats in a cove where I’ve fished before, but never caught anything. We dragged around there for several hours and got 3 nice cohos and a small one. We went on to one of the favorite drags, but not much—just a pink and a rockfish, which we released.

We went back the way we came so I could set the two-hook halibut skate. We anchored right next to the set location, near a favorite deer hunting spot. Jesse enjoyed a paddle in the Tucktec folding kayak while I made venison over salad for dinner. Loving this kayak—super light and seems to handle well.

The next morning, we were up early to check the skate, as I was wary after we almost lost the last two to sand fleas. As soon as the skate line was picked up, there was a nice halibut tugging away. When it came up to the boat, I saw the circle hook wasn’t all the way through the jaw, but somehow it was solid. I got the fish around to the swim step, got the harpoon through the jaw, and that was it. I stunned it a few times, then cut a gill, and we relaxed for a while to let the fish bleed.

The big fish came up through the swim step and onto the deck just fine. We measured it—68 inches. When we looked up the weight from the length in the tide book, it came out to 160 lbs. Dang.

I described to Jesse how to fillet the big fish, and he got to it while I motored to one of the favorite king salmon spots near the outside. By the time we got there an hour later, the halibut was filleted into the four big pieces and onto the frozen water bottles in the cooler.

We lost a nice fish at the king spot, and then nothing the rest of the day. We fished all the way around the island. With 80 lbs of halibut meat in the cooler, we decided to head to town to take care of it, and run out closer to town the next day.

We tied up to the harbor dock, hooked up the hose to the water hydrant, and got to work. We tag-teamed skinning the big fillets. Then I portioned them, and the portions went into the first rinse bucket. When that was full, I took the fillet portions out, rinsed them again, and put them into the colanders to drain. When all the portions were well drained, we each took a Costco yogurt container with the bottom cut off and a cut up the side, and used these to insert into the vac-pack bags to keep moisture off the top of the bag that gets vac-packed. We slid the portions down through the container into the bags.

We loaded the bags into clean buckets, and when we had them all ready, we loaded them into the collapsible cart and walked the green mile from transient moorage up to the parking lot. We drove to my in-laws and borrowed their freezer to freeze the fish in the open bags overnight.

The next morning, we were up and going at 5:30 am. We fished close to town that day as that’s where we caught the fish on the first day. We dropped the gear along the Prince of Wales Island shore across from the cabin at a regular king salmon drag. We lost our first strike, which looked like another nice fish. We fished the drag all the way to the corner and caught 5 nice cohos.

We crossed over to an island and put our gear in there on Mikey’s advice. We saw a cruiser come up and drop their gear not far in front of us, so we figured this must be the place. The cruiser was a local boat, and turned out to be run by a good friend of my in-laws. She was on the kicker tiller, and her young crew was mooching. We trolled around them. We caught 2 nice cohos trolling, and they caught many more than us mooching.

We called it quits a little after 4 and headed home. Back at the dock, we did the same program as with the halibut. I cut off fins and the head, then Jesse filleted and portioned. Then I spooned off burger that was left along the backbone after Jesse filleted. We loaded up the bagged salmon and walked the green mile back to the truck.

We picked up our halibut from the night before and got to vac-packing in the shed. I got the battery-operated radio from the bunkhouse to listen to the Democratic Convention in Chicago on KRBD, where Sara was in attendance.

When the halibut was done, we started in on the salmon. Then we weighed out the fish so we could get Jesse’s box packed quickly in the morning.

When we were done, I put pasta to cook in the instant pot and started the cream sauce with the salmon burger, red onion, a little sea asparagus, some leftover artichoke antipasto, butter, and the rest of the milk left from the Morgans. When it cooked down, I added a little pancake mix flour to thicken it. When the pasta was done, I added it to the sauce. Jesse and I both had seconds.

Brian and Ellen bought me a Big Chief smoker for Christmas. I’d used my home-built smoker to smoke salmon for canning, which is a bit easier to do than hot smoking, since all you’re trying to do is get a nice pellicle (outer sort of hard layer of skin on the flesh) and smoke flavor. You don’t want it to finish drying and smoking on the inside. The canning will finish the cooking process and then some.

Hot smoking is both the nice pellicle on the outside and cooked all the way through on the inside. It’s been a long time since I hot smoked salmon, and my past attempts were edible but not consistent, I’d say. Kevin makes great smoked king salmon in the same kind of smoker, so I asked him for advice. He uses a 2:1 brown sugar to salt dry brine, brines the fish 6 to 8 hours (or overnight), dries it for 8 hours till it’s shiny and tacky on the outside, then smokes it about 4 hours. Howard added advice to use a meat thermometer so you can take off pieces that are done while leaving thicker pieces until they are done.

Paul’s birthday (Feb 29—only happens every 4 years) and the day he passed away (Aug 1—opening day of deer season) are easy to remember. Smoking fish seemed like a good activity to remember him. So the night before his passing date, I started.

I didn’t have brown sugar, so used white sugar instead. I mostly had large king salmon steaks, as that’s how I like to cook king salmon. I thawed the fish in water in the sink and mixed the brine. I coated the first piece of fish with brine and put it in the bottom of a bowl. I coated the next pieces in the brine and layered them on or around the pieces below till all the fish was coated in the bowl. I left the fish in the brine overnight, monitoring as the brine became liquid, and moved pieces around so they stayed coated. I freshened the fish the next morning (i.e., rinsed it repeatedly in freshwater) to remove some of the salt so the product isn’t too salty. I hung the rack over the dehumidifier and in front of an open window for drying.

I called Tyler and Nevette on FaceTime or whatever it’s called, and Steve on the cell phone. All of us knew what today was and each was glad someone called to talk about Paul. We all miss him.

After about 6 hours of drying, the fish looked ready for the smoker.

I put the fish on the racks, with the thickest pieces on the bottom rack and the thinnest on the top rack. There are 5 racks, and I had 4 racks’ worth of fish, so I didn’t put anything on the lowest rack nearest the heat.

I used the alder wood shavings that came with the smoker for the first round of wood in the pan on the heating element, then used alder sticks I’ve gathered from our land and peeled for the next 3 batches of smoke.

I tested the thickest fish pieces at 4 hours, and the gauge showed 140 degrees—just about the 145-degree target. I left the fish another half hour and pulled it out. I cracked pieces on all racks, and it all was done. I transferred the fish to a pan to cool. I tried a few pieces. Perfect! Well, that was easy. I’ll have to learn better how to monitor with the meat thermometer so I don’t overcook some pieces, but none of these looked too dry. Now eager to try smoking some more fish, which will have to wait till we catch more. (Which I did, by the way. I used 4 cups brown sugar to 3 cups salt, and it was a little less sweet, which I liked).

Also my first time picking thimbleberries. In Juneau, it seemed there was just a few berries per plant. Here in Craig and in this particular area, they are coming on like crazy. Thimbleberries are good to eat, but there is not much to them. It takes a lot of picking to make a pile. I picked for 3 or 4 times around our place. There might be 10 berries on a bush, but only one or two are ripe. I had a tad over 4 cups of mashed berries. I added 3 cups of sugar and put the mash to boil in the instant pot. From what I’ve read, thimbleberries are loaded with pectin, so no additional pectin is needed. When the mash temp was between 200 and 220 degrees, I jarred the mash. It made 7 half pints, which exactly fit in the instant pot for a 10-minute boiling water bath can. It thickened up nicely. A lot of work for 7 half pints, and it looks lovely. When I tasted it, I determined it was worth it. Some of the best-tasting jam I’ve ever made. The thimbleberries have a hint of raspberry taste, but not the big seeds of raspberries or salmonberries. This instant pot gizmo is very versatile. The more I use it, the more I like it.