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.
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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 the 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 and not much. A pink and rockfish released.
We went back the way we came so I could set the 2 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 2 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, and got the harpoon through the jaw and that was it. I stunned it a few times, then cut a gill and we relaxed for awhile 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 just 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 and rinsed them again and put the portions 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 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, and 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 inlaws and borrowed their freezer to freeze the fish in the open bags overnight.
The next morning, we were up and going at 530 am. We fished close to town today as that’s where we caught the fish 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 coho.
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 inlaws. 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 bac k 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 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 artichoke antipasto left over, 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 that 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 passed 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 day he passed away (Aug 1- opening day of dear 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 the 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 moving 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 were glad someone called today 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 ho
ur 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 til we catch more. (Which I did, by the way. I used 4 cups brown sugar to 3 cups salt, and a little less sweet, which I liked).
Also my first time picking thimble berries. 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. Thimble berries 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, thimble berries 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 jams I’ve ever made. The thimbleberries have a hint of raspberry taste, but not the big seeds of raspberries or salmon berries. This instant pot gizmo is very versatile. The more I use it, the more I like it.
Sean and Pat came in for a couple weeks of Alaska on the tug. Kind of an adventure for people to get here now rather than Juneau. Flying in on the jet from Seattle to Ketchikan is pretty routine. But then taking a small plane here, or schlocking your luggage down to the airport ferry, then down the steet a quarter mile to the Prince of Wales ferry and the 3 hour trip to Hollis are new to most.
We got out fishing and didn’t catch much the first day or two. We got a tip from Brian like we always do on where to try, and once there we caught one, but that was it. One or two humpback whales worked along the shore, and it seems like we were conscious of them and they of us, and we stayed out of each other’s way.
The next day was more of the same, with just one fish in the morning. Then Brian showed up, and his boat was catching fish one after another on the same drag as us. We lost a few but not getting nearly the action he was. He called and asked what kind of lures we were using. Spoons I said. What color? Cop car, I said. He hung up, then swung over and tossed a lure on the boat. It was black, green and blue. We put that on one rod, and on the other rod, the closest thing I had to Brian’s spoon: a green needlefish spoon I had from my trolling days that I never had caught a fish on in the waters of northern Southeast Alaska. Life got good after that.
We soon started getting kings on. Another first – never seen a specific spoon color make that much difference. We saw a lone sea lion along the shore. At one point we had a double on. Pat, the more experienced of the two, played his fish to the net, and we got it on board. Sean was letting his fish play him, with the his rod going every which direction, including all the way forward, where it slipped behind the Jeanne Kay name plate screwed to the bow. I climbed forward and released it. Sean’s line was now slack, and I feared the worst: he’d lost Brian’s spoon! But wait! There was a little weight still on the line. When the end of the line came up, the lure was still there! Along with a salmon head neatly clipped just behind the gills by that lone sea lion we’d seen. No wonder the fish was turning Sean every which way. A large mammal was on its tail, and he couldn’t get away. We found a nice anchorage in a sheltered cove on Baker island for the evening, after setting the two hook skate and the crab pot.
The next day was more of the same. I was up about 430 am and we were out fishing on the drag by about 530 am. First one’s there. The fishing was good, and we’d caught several kings by 930 am, when the bite trailed off. Rain was setting in, too. So, we reeled up and headed to check our skate (nothing) and crab pot (nothing).
The third day there was slower. We caught one big one the first pass in the morning, then that was it. Then we saw some boats across the way on the Lulu shore. Brian had told me that was another place to try, but I wasn’t quite sure just where he meant. Now I did. We picked up and got behind one of the boats to learn the drag. We got another nice fish there. Another day of learning and catching. By now, the boys had the hang of the gear. They could set the downriggers and rods alone. I would still go back to help when a fish got on, as it wasn’t yet a regular thing to get a king salmon on.
A blow was coming, and it wouldn’t be much fun fishing this spot tomorrow, so we headed for another spot that would be fishable. As we approached the channel to cross to there, I saw a big white boat. With a big red square on the side. Coast Guard. Friends called and said they’d been boarded. I love the Coast Guard and what they do. Except boarding my boat and home while I’m out on the water, armed to the teeth, without asking. We changed course and went around an island and on to town to avoid the hassle.
The next day, it did blow as expected. The first order of business was to get to the store and find the magic spoons. When we got to Log Cabin…..they had none! Dang it. I talked to Brian as we were leaving, and he said he got his at Lynn’s. Whew. We headed to JT Browns, and I found what I thought was exactly the spoon, but with a red eye on it I figured had rubbed off Brian’s spoon. I bought an extra spoon to replace the one he gave us with a new one. Sean finally got a Craig, AK hat- a JT Brown’s cap. Turns out it wasn’t exactly the spoon he gave us- they were out of those – but close enough.
We dropped the spoon off to Brian’s house door, and headed home for the day. We stopped in at Brian and Ellen’s later that day to get the key to a canoe they had stashed at a trout lake, as we thought we’d try that for the day. While there, we met a crowd from Utah who they were long time friends with – the extended family of a Utah-raised teacher friend here.
We took off the next day for the trout lake. Brian drove in his own rig as well to show us the lake location, and to collect money for some marten he’d sold to a buyer there awhile back. The lake is not easy to find, and I was sure to mark things on my gps when we made a turn on this logging road or that. He and Pat talked trapping on the way over in Brian’s truck. The boys were enchanted hiking the quarter mile through the rainforest to the lake. Brian was in the lead, and flushed a rare spruce grouse, which flew up into a tree 10 feet away and allowed us to pass. Brian lead us to the canoe, gave the boys some instructions on where to fish in the lake, and then hiked back to his truck and on for his money collection date.
The three of us boarded the canoe, with me in the middle. The boys paddled up the outlet creek into the lake, and dropped me off at a beach. We fished there together for awhile, and Pat had a little trout strike his lure right when he was about to pull it out of the water. I stayed on the beach while the boys canoed around the lake. The only other trout I saw was a 6 inch trout jump for a bug nearby. The trout seemed to have left the lake. Brian said he’d never seen the lake level so low.
We returned the canoe after a couple hours, and hiked back to the truck. I thought we’d take the back road to Coffman Cove, where the hamburger stand is. We stopped at the liquor store and got directions to the road, which we easily found and soon were on our way. The road is gravel, with the usual pot holes and washboards. It runs about 30 miles along the coast to Coffman Cove. We stopped to watch some whales at one spot, and I discovered another sea asparagus patch, which I noted on my phone GPS. An hour later we were almost to the junction with the Coffman Cove road and blessed pavement when we came on a landslide across the road! I thought: this must have just happened! Otherwise, surely the Forest Service would have put up a sign on the road in Thorne Bay notifying others like us the road was impassable. So, around we turned.
On the way back, we came on a group of 20 somethings playing frisbee golf, of all things, about half way back to Thorne Bay. I asked them where they were from. Craig, they said. Did they know there was a landslide on the road? Oh sure. It’s been there awhile. Must take an act of Congress for the Forest Service to put a courtesy road sign, I guess.
The next day, I wasn’t feeling too peppy. A slight fever and cough. Uh oh. I don’t get sick. Just never have. I found a COVID test trusty Sara had left here, and that confirmed the cause of my sickness. I called Ellen and told her. A couple of the Utah crowd were sick. Brian got it the next day. We didn’t see the need for the 3 of us to isolate since we’d spent the previous day cooped up in the truck in close proximity. Sean then tested positive. Still not sure who gave it to who, but it was a one day thing, and much less severe than the other time I knew I had COVID. Thanks goodness for the vaccine and the boosters.
I felt a little better the next day, and the boys were up for leaving on the tug again. Get us out of town and keep the spread from us to a minimum. We headed to the anchorage where we can fish in most weather. I think we caught a few fish there the next day. The weather was flat, so on Brian’s advice (again!) we headed for the outer coast to fish the incoming tide late in the afternoon. We’d have added bonus of being there when the dozens of charter boats out there would have to be heading back to their lodges, so we’d have the place more to ourselves. We caught a nice 22 lb king salmon, and a couple large dusky rockfish we had for dinner. We returned to the inside anchorage, and set the skate.
The next day, it was pouring rain and blowing. We weren’t fishing the outside today. We stayed on anchor all morning while it blew. The wind laid down a bit in the afternoon as forecast. So we fished right by the anchorage. The fish were there. We caught four fat coho, a nice king, and lost a bigger king. When we checked the skate, we had a 25 lb halibut, and reset the skate. What a day.
The next day we fished the same spot. I was up early so we’d be fishing as the same tide stage as yesterday afternoon. Lots of feed showed on the sounder. We made two trips around the drag. Nothing but two little rockfish! A blow was coming again the next day, so we headed home. We checked the skate on the way out. The sixth halibut of the season at this spot. But the sand fleas had gruesomely killed the chicken halibut on the hook, and I shook it off. We decided to try to fish with the rods for halibut right there, as we’d caught so many halibut this season. Only the boys could fish with rods, as a person can’t fish a personal use skate and sport rods the same day. Nothing there. Not a bite.
I looked on the chart, and saw a promising (to me) spot not far away, so we moved there. We were fishing one side of a rock in about 120 feet of water. We could see a couple local boats fishing on the other side of the rock in 250 feet of water. We fished for about an hour and not a bump. Then I started hearing some blows. I looked for the source and saw them: orcas. Behind the boats on the other side of the rock.
We cranked up our fishing gear and I headed that way. My boat does about 6 knots, so I wasn’t sure I could catch them if they were cruising.
We cruised in their direction, and soon were about 150 yards away or so, and I put the boat in neutral to watch. The whales were not cruising, but appeared to be circling and slashing and feeding somehow. I wasn’t sure on what. I saw some bullkelp on the water amongst them, but that was it.
The whale activity started edging our way. I backed up to stay away. When the whales surfaced closer, I put the boat in neutral per my whale watch boat captain experience. The whales edged even closer, as did the stipe of bull kelp in the center of their activity. Then the whales were 50 yards and closing. I shut the engine down. Now I saw it: that stipe of bullkelp wasn’t bullkelp. It was a seal! And that seal was being used by the group (I think – what do I know – I’m not an orca) – to train the calf in the group.
The largest whale would turn quickly and slap it’s tail. I witnessed this close to the boat sometime later and can tell you what that was about. Each time he whipped his tail, it came down precisely on top of that poor seal. I would think the concussion would kill it. But it did not. The seal would surface afterword.
The seal came right up to our boat with huge, tired, bloodshot eyes. It tried to hide between our bumper buoys hanging over the side. The killer whales were now circling right next to the tug. They would roll on their side and look up at us. And at the seal. If the punt wasn’t pulled up on the swimstep, I think the seal would have piled up there in a second. The orcas were slashing around the boat. In the front. On the sides. On the stern. On the bow. Then, with the seal snuggled alongside the boat, three of the whales surfaced a few boat links away, and just sort of stared at us and the seal. All in a line. Ready to charge. I was pretty nervous and creeped out. Sean was on the bow, and I told him to stay in the center and not get near the side of the boat. These orcas are savage.
The whales went below the surface for a minute or two, and that was all I could take. I cranked up, and headed back towards the rock, between the two boats fishing there, leaving the seal behind. We saw the whales soon surface behind us, and again continue to molest the seal. The largest whale repeatedly slapping its tail precisely on the seal. Pat told me later he saw some of the younger whales trying to do the same thing, but they didn’t hit the seal everytime like the biggest whale did.
The whale group and seal came our way slowly. We saw the whales all in the group. The seal had it’s head above water, but it looked like it was clearly in the mouth of one of the whales and not under it’s own power. Then there was a swoosh, and the seal disappeared. It did not reappear. Eventually, the whales moved on. Devilfish. A perfect nickname for these creatures. Or f$*9ing bastards, as I called them. I think it’s the first time I’ve ever felt sorry for a seal.
We came back to town for good on Thursday, as the boys left on the ferry Sunday morning. On Friday, I showed the boys how I smoke fish and can them. I learned how to can fish from Heather Stillwell on the Nushagak River in the late 1980’s. I was a fishing guide living in a camp on the river for Wood River Lodge, and Heather was running the fish counting sonar camp for ADFG upriver. For the smoking part, I learned this from Paul’s daughter Nevette, who learned it from her friends in Yakutat while she fished on the Alsek River. The smoking part is an art that can entail any number of variations and still come out right. The canning part is science that needs to be followed precisely, else botulism could result that can kill a person if they eat tainted fish.
Sean is pretty fastidious, and took to the whole process with interest. Pat already knows alot of the process from smoking and curing venison sausages and bologna in Bolivar. Both of them understand “process” from making maple syrup at the Dunn sugar house. I thawed out some coho salmon, and cut it into strips, brined the strips, then had Sean put them on the smoker racks. We loaded my makeshift smoker, and started the low heat to dry the fish. When it was tacky, I added a piece of peeled alder every now and then for some smoke.
Ellen cooked dinner for us- bison and halibut enchiladas. She and Brian and the boys talked hunting, fishing, trapping and maple syrup making for a couple hours. Dessert was sourdough waffles with fruit and the boys’ syrup.
This morning, the fish were finished smoking, and I showed Sean how to measure and cut the strips and pack the canning jars. Then I showed him the steps for canning, and also texted he and Pat the files from UAF for safe canning of smoked fish.
Lots of repairs and maintenance lately. I put the prop guard on the new 200 HP Yamaha, so wanted to take the boat for a test drive. As I motored in front of Craig, I was turning the wheel, but the boat wasn’t turning. I slowed to a stop before I ran onto the reef. I did a few hard overs each way with the wheel, and got some steering back, but it wasn’t great.
I stopped in and asked Chet about it the next day. He said the helm fluid was probably low, and the seals back by the engine could be leaking. He gave me a run down of checking the fluid level, and how to check the steering ram for leaks. He sold me a bottle of the fluid I’d need, and a cap for the bottle of fluid with a nipple on it to make adding fluid to the reservoir easier. (I still spilled some, of course.)
I went home and tried to back out the plug in the reservoir with the biggest screwdriver I own here. The straight slot on the plug stripped out toot sweet.
I got the grinder out and put on a cutting wheel. I cut a new slot perpendicular to the stripped one like I saw the sidekick do on the Tool Time show (I’m serious-that’s where I saw it.) This time, I got a good bite with the screwdriver and the plug backed out.
I looked into the reservoir to look for metal shavings like Chet instructed. Not only were there no shavings, there was no fluid to be seen. I poured most of the quart into the reservoir until it was about full, and looked again. No shavings. I put some never seize lube on the plug threads and screwed the plug back in.
I worked the wheel back and forth and had good steerage now. I took a paper towel and wiped the steering ram. No oil showed. Might be the first helm oil check since it was installed, and oil dibbled out for the past 2 or 3 decades. Or a leak might just have started. Who knows. I learned something new and will need to add checking it to the maintenance schedule.
I learned the next day the leak was a recent event. Oil was leaking around the steering shaft at the helm. Looks like a delicate job to tear apart the helm, install numerous o rings just right, be sure there’s no nick on the shaft to cause it to leak again, then put it all back together. Clearly a job I’m not the best for. Hopefully, Chet’s crew can fix it.
This morning I was heading to the community garage sale in Coffman Cove. First I stopped at the boat to replace a GFI outlet with a regular outlet that is powered by the inverter. The GFI outlet did not like the inverter current and would make noise by my ear all night.
Off I went to Coffman Cove. On the road to Klawock, the cab filled with mist out of the vents, and the windshield fogged. There was the smell of hot coolant. When I squeegeed the glass, it left behind a streaky film. I pulled over and googling confirmed what I thought: my heater core was leaking.
I went on to get fuel in Klawock, then returned to the Napa store in Craig to get a bypass kit. The salesman set me up instead with a 5/8 inch hose union and 2 hose clamps. I went to the grocery store next for potato salad ingredients.
I returned to the cabin and parked the truck to cool while I made the potato salad. After a couple more cups of coffee, I got to work. I cut the two hoses going to the heater core, and spliced the two with the union and clamps. I wired the union forward to take as much bend out of the hose as possible and hoped it was enough that the coolant wouldn’t be restricted.
I filled the coolant reservoir with water , then started the truck and drove it to town and back. The temperature gauge was normal so looks like it’s working.
Next I put a piece of wood under each side of the toilet paper holder in the bathroom. A full roll wouldn’t want to roll, and now there’s plenty of room.
Lastly, I trimmed around the windows to cover the gaps with the yellow expansion foam. I didn’t have more trim boards, so I used some one inch flexible electrical conduit around one window, and some old boat line for the other.
Pat and Sean get here tomorrow, and now I’m ready.
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