John arrived and met me in Ketchikan Oct 23. We were able to catch a flight to Craig and get in a day earlier than expected. We stopped for John’s license. John’s license was $85 and a deer tag $150. John first gave me $80, which I told him wasn’t enough. Then he gave me a check for $250 that his mom sent. We tried paying with a credit card, but could not so went to the bank to cash the check. The $80 was subsequently lost. John said I never gave it back to him and that I lost it. That went on for the rest of the trip. I guess it dropped out of my pocket.

On the first day out, we went to a cove I’d hunted last year and saw many deer but no bucks, while the rest of the party went to a road and hunted from 4-wheelers.  We saw no bucks, but had a nice hike further up than I’d ever gone. When the boat returned for us on the beach, I tried to jump up on the bow, didn’t make it, and was sliding back down for another try. When my leg hit the ground, it came down awkwardly on a rock and I wrenched my knee.  Really wrenched it. I knew I was injured pretty good, and hoped nothing was torn inside. I knew at minimum I’d be out of commission for a few days. Luckily, it turned out to just be a sprain.

The next day John went halibut fishing with the men while I nursed my knee. My truck brakes were leaking somewhere, and we found the leak before John left. The leak was along a length of brakeline going to the back brakes that had a union on either end. Easy fix. I worked the line loose, then loosened both unions, removed the brakeline piece, and made several trips to the store for parts and brake fluid until it was finally fixed.  The next day John went to shoot his gun with Ed. I was still hobbled, and so repaired the broken window in the rear of the truck cab. Brian gave me a piece of scrap plexiglass. I cut it to fit on his bandsaw, then screwed it in place and liberally caulked the crap out of the edges. It held out the water. Then, the wipers went. All of a sudden, the driver’s side wiper just quit. I got on YouTube and found it was a simply fix. I took out the grate under the wipers, unscrewed the three bolts holding in the wiper motor, and saw that the plastic bushings were worn out on the wiper motor arms. Back to NAPA, who said they didn’t have them, then realized they were actually in the store from that day’s shipment but not yet in stock. So, I returned later and retrieved them. I put the wipers back together and good as new. All told, the brake and wiper parts were less than $100, so not bad as I could do all the work myself. The $1,500 “deal” we got the truck from Charlie for is now with new windshield and repaired brainbox and so we have close to $3,000 into it now. But if that’s it for awhile, it will still be okay.

Mike brought over a device his wife used for her knee surgery for me to use. Basically a thing you wrap around your knee that circulates ice water from a little cooler it’s connected to. Pure heaven. I iced the knee daily and used the circulator each eve for the first 2 days, then just the circulator. With a steady diet of ibuprofen and PBR, the knee got better with each passing day. By the 3rd day after the injury, I was ready for a little hiking, so John and I tried to hunt near the road to Coffman Cove. We called in one doe, had a nice lunch at the Coffman Cove cafe, saw a huge elk antler shed a couple hunters returning from Etolin Island had, and I got some killer sunglasses from the Coffman Cove store for $1. We never got to where Brian told us to try due to poor communications on directions. The next day we went to the right spot, and saw several deer but no bucks. The following day, we decided to go in Brian’s small skiff to a little island near town where we saw our first and biggest buck last year, which we did not get. We had a good hike and saw two does near the end of the day. On the way to the boat, I found a spot light that I later saw was $68 at the sporting goods store in Craig. Hopefully it was not being used elsewhere for nefarious purposes. Best thing was it still worked. Our anchor hung up on the bottom and we had to leave it. We cut the line, tied a buoy to the line, and left it. The next day, we retrieved it at low tide. The line had run under a log and slipped right out when pulled from the anchor side.  The next day we went to our favorite island where we took most of our deer last year. We saw nothing on the way up, calling at each good spot. For the first time, we got up to a muskeg we’d always been heading for but did not reach because we’d gotten a deer before we’d get there. The muskeg was sort of on a table top, with a small rise to get to the flat top. As we worked our way uphill, I saw a deer, standing stone still, going downhill out the back door. I looked and saw it was a buck.  John told me to take it as he couldn’t see it. I sloughed my pack, chambered a round, walked forward a few feet to a tree for a good rest, took aim, and fired. The deer dropped in it’s tracks. While I aimed for the lower part of the neck, the bullet went through both shoulder blades. I chalked it up to buck fever. John and I butchered the deer. I had him go up and call in the muskeg until I got the deer skinned, but no more deer seen. It was nice being able to divide the deer into two packs for the hike down. We returned to the same spot the next day and did not see a single deer. It was the first day hunting on this island that John had not seen a buck. We tried another favorite spot the next day with Ellen and her friend Shelby. No one saw any bucks, and and both of us saw just one or two does. John and I got back to the boat first, and John wanted to go out in the kayak and bring the boat to the beach.

Since he’d learned to drive my boat this summer and Brian’s boat was essentially the same set-up, I approved. Then I disapproved when I realized there was no life jacket until I realized the jacket Ellen left in the kayak WAS a life jacket, so off John went. He paddled the 30 yards out to the boat in flat calm water. It was pretty wobbly for him getting in the boat, but he made it. He started the boat, put the boat in gear, and started in a circle to the beach. He wasn’t making much head way. I was frantically waving my arms for him to stop but it took awhile for him to finally see me. Then he said “what?” like I was yelling at him for doing something wrong. I said “did you pull the anchor?” ( I knew he had not) and he said yeah- oh no. He went forward,  pulled the anchor, and idled in as I laughed. We went back to our favorite island the next day, but to a different spot where Ellen had gone the year before. She laid out the trail up to a big muskeg and gave us some pointers. We started up through some helicopter logging, calling as we came to good spots. We called in a doe and a yearling at one spot, and they came right up to us. We got to the muskeg high up the mountain. We cautiously found comfortable spots to sit, and I started calling. On the second or third sequence of calls, a doe came in. She ran all around the muskeg and along the edges, snorting. A nice, live decoy. I kept calling. About 20 minutes later, I looked to my left, realized I’d seen an antler, and looked again. A big buck had come in behind me, about 20 yards away. It was broadside to John.  He said later he saw it as I rose to shoot, but I suspect he was either looking at his hands or his feet or kicking the dirt as I’d seen him do at the other places we’d call – anything but look out for deer coming in. Anyway, I stood up, turned around and fired quickly once, and missed. The deer started to turn and walk away when it stopped. I took better aim, fired, and the deer reared like a stallion and then toppled over. Wow, we just got a big buck. I walked over and saw it was still breathing. I walked up to about 10 feet from it, aimed just below his ear, and fired. The bullet went under his chin into the muskeg, and the buck looked up at me, sort of coming out of a daze. Then it got up and started wobbling away like it was drunk. I gave chase, but was out of bullets and yelling for John to bring my pack. The deer went down again, and I caught up to it, but still out of bullets. Then it got up again and wobbled away again. I got some bullets from John’s gun and took off after it, but never caught up to it. There was no hair or blood where I shot it or anywhere after. We looked for what John thought was 2 hours and never a sign. As I replayed it in my mind later that evening, I realized I may have just beaned it in the skull or the antler and knocked it out. When I moved in for the kill shot and missed, that woke him up. He knew this wasn’t a good situation, forced himself up, staggered and fell, got up again and made his getaway. Of course we had to go back the next day. I hoped to find it laying dead somewhere along the way. We worked our way up to the muskeg, not spending much time down low where we’d tried the day before.  The wind was blowing from the upper right corner of the muskeg to the lower left corner, so I thought we’d work our way up the brush on the right side of the muskeg and call from there, thinking a deer would work it’s way downwind of us and then come across the muskeg to check us out. When we got to a good spot, we found if we moved up into the muskeg a bit, we could see better. We slowly edged our way into the muskeg. I looked downhill. And there he was. Either yesterday’s buck or his twin brother. I bent down and retreated and told John the buck was there. John did not have time to load, remove his scope covers and get a shot off before the deer bounded away. John gave chase and tried calling him back but he would not come. We settled in in the pouring rain for as long as we could stand it and called. We did call a doe to us, but not another buck. We slogged it all the way back down the mountain and it was kind of a lumpy ride home. The next day was our last day and John agreed we’d not hunt but clean the house, wash our clothes and get ready to leave the following day. John asked to go to the range, and I thought that would be a good mid day break, so we went. That’s where I found my gun was way off – low and to the left by alot. It took most of a box of shells to get me around the bullseye at 50 yards before I was out of bullets. The scope adjustment covers were off the scope as I’d lost one and taken the other for sizing when I ordered new ones last year, and I forgot to take them with me so I’d just wrapped over them with electric tape. That must have thrown them off, or I fell and they moved or something. I shot all of my deer in the neck last year so knew the gun was good when I put it away last year. Anyway, lots of stories and lessons learned.

John and I flew out the next morning to Ketchikan, but we got fogged out of the airport and had to return to Klawock to wait on the weather.  When we got to Ketchikan, our jet was still on the ground but they were getting ready to push it out so we knew we were too late. No connecting flight was going to get us from Seattle to Chicago on time either. We flew on the next flight. John had been harassing me all week that I had lost $80 he’d given me for his license, which was not enough so we had to cash a check his mom had sent, instead. He said I didn’t give him back the money, and I couldn’t find it anywhere. John had not done much of any homework the whole week, so decided to catch up on the flight. He opened up his homework backpack and there was his money. I grabbed the scruff of his shirt and pulled his face right up to mine. He was laughing so hard he couldn’t talk. When we got to Seattle, John saw our connecting flight had been delayed!  I sent him ahead on the connecting train to try to make it for us. The jet was still on the ground but the door from the airport was closed and the agents down on the plane. We just missed it again. So we spent the evening in the Seattle McDonalds. We left the next morning at 630 am, and got to Chicago at noon. I got John to his connecting gate for Pittsburgh, then rented a car and drove up to Appleton, WI to meet Doug Larson at Mods International. He had a container home we’d put down a deposit on and I wanted to see if before we bought it and had it shipped to our land in Craig. It was everything he’d said and more and he could not have been more accommodating. He was the only one still at his office, having waited for me on a Friday evening. I was buying a demo unit so it was already discounted and yet he treated me like I was buying a 100 of them. I looked it over for about and hour, peppering Doug with questions, and was confident of the purchase. I slept till 4 am at a local hotel then headed back to Chicago. It took half and hour to an hour less on the return trip because it was the weekend, so I made it in good time. Everyone was nice in Wisconsin and Chicago. Even the highway drivers seemed to know I wasn’t from there and let me in as needed to make my exits or exchanges. Tons and tons of geese and cranes up through Wisconsin. Midwesterners are good people. So, only 1 deer so far and now will be scampering to get more to fill our freezer and get Paul some deer. too. Always good when you need to do more hunting.

Kurt got a really big doe by a long (for us) shot.  We were standing 10 yards apart and I couldn’t see the deer on a big muskeg up near the top that came to the call.  He shot it out at about 75 yards as the deer had seen him and started to walk away.  Right after he shot, he said he didn’t know if he hit it.  I thought I heard a branch break right after he shot but that was it.  We went up to the sight and no blood or hair.  First I went off behind the deer, then Kurt said it was walking 90 degrees to where I was looking. away – why he didn’t tell me that first, I dunno!  Too excited.  I walked down along the edge of the muskeg the way he said it went then moved back about 10 yards and came back thorough some trees.  Did not think he hit it and that it was gone.  Then there it was.  Stone dead.    It had taken about 2 bounds, got into the trees, and went down. Kurt shot it right through the heart. We butchered it up there since we were pretty far from the beach and it was a glorious day, down to quarters, and each packed half back.  We then butchered and vac packed just now finishing here at dark.  No rain.  Sun and a beautiful day and no wind.  That was the only deer we saw. 

Bob, Kurt and I were supposed to go to St James Bay moose hunting this weekend.  Kurt had to cancel as he runs the computer software for the legislature, and the governor had called a special session in Oct so Kurt had to be there for set up.  The remnants of a hurricane were moving across the Gulf of Alaska to southeast Alaska, and it looked like a big steaming pile of weather right in the middle of our hunt.  When I picked up Bob on Thursday, I told him the weather situation and asked if he had anything he “had” to be back for in case we got stuck due to weather.  He said he had to be in Boston on Tue.  So, I gave him the option to go to our cabin and go deer hunting instead of the moose hunt.  Our cabin is nearer to town and we could always come back if the forecast got worse.  We decided to go deer hunting instead. We took off for the cabin. I’d just bought a “porta bote” off a used classified website in Haines, and was eager to try it out.  Before we left town, we took a lot of gear off the boat since we wouldn’t need it.  I put the stove, lanterns, and sleeping bag back in the truck.  We ran over to our cabin in the skiff, then put the porta bote together on the beach and put on the little 2.5 hp motor.  It started right up, and was basically an idle machine that took us from our cabin’s island beach to Admiralty Island beach.  I love the boat but not sure the outboard could run against much waves or tide.  It was pouring rain.  All day.  Kind of a replay of Todd and Kieth’s trip here last year.  We hunted up the side of the mountain, calling in my usual spots, and no deer.  We got back to the beach drenched and not looking forward to the next day, which was supposed to be the big blow and rain.   We decided it was raining hard and the wind forecast such that we would not hunt on Friday.  We had a big breakfast of moose and eggs, then talked and lounged all day.  The big blow did come over night but I slept right through it.   Bob did hear it.  On Saturday, I decided we try an area my workmate had gotten a deer last weekend.  I’d seen this area while trolling offshore of it and was eager to try it.  We took the porta bote with us.  We got to our spot, offloaded our packs and guns, then I paddled out with the skiff and the porta boat, anchored the skiff, then rowed back in the porta bote, which we carried above the high tide line. We headed up the hill.  We worked our way uphill maybe 20 minutes, and came to a spot that looked like it adjoined a fairly open muskeg.  I blew the call.  Waited 5 minutes, and blew again.  Bob was about 30 yards away.  He signaled that deer were coming.  I then saw the head of a doe through the brush.  She looked at me, then back to Bob, then to me, then back to Bob.  The deer was broadside to Bob and I didn’t even think about shooting.  Then she snorted and turned back to where she came.   Bob then fired.   He said he missed.  And that there was a buck with the doe that I could not see.  The sun was coming right in the scope.  The sun and wind were coming from the same direction, so not much we could do.  It was exciting anyway to have seen deer on the very first spot we called. We hunted hard the rest of the day.  We called at some huge open muskeg areas.  We moved into the thicker brush along one of the muskegs, and I saw a deer that immediately took off into the brush and we never saw it again.  As the day wore on we gradually moved back to the same beach as the boat was on and started back to where we thought the boat was. We got into a fairly open area in pretty thick area of spruce and hemlock trees and blueberries.  I sent Bob down to a spot about 50 yards away, and I set up looking down the hill.  I blew the call and waited 5 minutes, then blew again.  Something caught my eye and here comes a deer from down the hill, up to me.  I drew my gun and it immediately stopped.  I could see it’s head and neck through the blueberry brush, but when I went to aim at it through my scope, I couldn’t see it.  I then looked away from the scope at it again and it was still there staring at me.  I looked for it through the scope, and noticed it’s neck move ever so much, dialed in on that white neck patch, and fired my 30.06.  I saw no movement, stood up, and saw what I thought was the deer laying below.  I called to Bob that I thought I got it.  I walked down the 30 yards or so and saw the doe laying there, piled up.  An immediate kill shot through the neck.   Bob came over and we were glad to have finally got a deer between the two of us after so many tries.  Then we see a deer coming up the same trail the doe did.  First I thought it might be a buck following the doe.  But it was not.  It was the doe’s offspring.  The smallest deer I’d ever seen.  Even though it was October, this fawn was tiny for the size I’d seen any offspring this time of year.  It was not very wary of us.  It seemed to know it’s mother was gone, and hung around for quite awhile, keeping it’s distance at about 20 yards.  It finally wandered off.  It was too small to take that deer, too, but a quandary because we had to wonder if a deer that small could make it on it’s own. I showed Bob how to dress the deer.  The doe was clearly still lactating when we continued the process.  I tied a line up through the bottom jaw as the Bue brothers had shown me how they do it in Minnesota for a drag line.  Bob gave me his broken-down walking poles as a handle, which I tied the other end of the drag line, and we headed downhill to the boat dragging the deer.  It was further than it looked, as it always seems it is, till we got to the beach.  We came down to a creek that emptied into the ocean, so we lowered down the deer to the beach from the cliffy shore.  We then headed up the cliff line to find the skiff.  We’d walked further than we thought and it took awhile to get to the skiff.  But also as taught by a brother Bue, we’d left some beverages in the skiff, which gives you something to look forward to on the way to the boat.  We finally reached the boat.  We launched the porta bote, and I paddled out to the skiff, pulled anchor, and then brought it to the boat.  Bob handed in the packs and guns, and we motored down the beach till we came to where we’d lowered the deer down the cliff.  I dragged down the deer to the skiff and we headed for the cabin.  Both of us couldn’t wait to come back here the next day. When we got back to our haulout at the island, we saw that the offshore anchor had drug in the big winds the night before.  I tied off the boat, but it was beached in the shallows and I couldn’t get it any more offshore.  It was near low tide, and I figured I could come down before low tide in the morning and get it off. We had a dinner of chirizo, beans, left over mashed potatoes, and salad burritos.  The next day’s forecast looked perfect.  We could get up at daybreak, get to the spot and hunt till midday, then beat it back to the boat ramp before the north wind cranked up.    I woke up about 430 and at 5 am went to the boat to get it further offshore.  The boat was already beached by about a 1/2 hour, so I knew we couldn’t leave till mid morning, when the tide would be in enough to float it.  When we both got up about sunrise, we put on the weather station on the VHF and heard that the forecast had gone to a more severe forecast.  It was going to blow much harder than the night before.  Both of us knew we couldn’t hunt today and get back for sure so we didn’t hurry to do anything.  I made a breakfast of leftover chirizo, potatoes, salad greens, eggs and cheese with home made bread.  Then did the dishes.  We headed out about 11 am.  It was a little lumpy coming home, and we could see that indeed the weather was coming. I dropped Bob off on the way home and we planned to meet and butcher the deer as Bob had not done this before.  He’d always taken it to a processor.  I had the deer about half skinned when Bob arrived, and in no time, we had the deer butchered and in vac pack bags, then headed to the vac packer to finish.  So, we found a new spot that I think will become our primary spot to go, and the sad situation we created orphaning an offspring.    

Kurt and I went hunting on South Douglas. Jeff dropped us off on the Stephens Passage side, and we hiked over the low ridge to the Gastineau Channel side. Jeff went fishing after he dropped us off and got a king salmon. Nice. Kurt and I didn’t see a deer. Most of the sign was on the top. Still leaves on the blueberry bushes but they are yellow and falling fast. When I got home, I continued getting ready for moose hunting. I was going to bake some pies and had been having trouble with the crust never really baking, so I tried to bake the bottom crust first. I baked it for about 25 minutes, and it baked up nice. I added blueberry filling to one and salmon berry filling to the other. Put on a raw crust top. Baked for another 50 minutes. Looked good. We’ll see how they taste at moose camp. My coworker told me about making a can call, so I’ll try to make one this week before we go. Punch a hole in the bottom of a coffee can, drill a hole in the bottom, then put in a string with a knot on the inside of the can. Then pull on the string to make a cow or bull call.

Kurt finally got me in gear to go hunting.  I put off going till now.  Too many leaves still on the bushes and too warm.  Last night was our first freeze I think, and as we drove to the Douglas ramp I saw ice on car windshields.  After blowing near a gale over night, the winds calmed down just as the weatherman predicted.  Blowing at Pt Bishop about 20 kts at 6 am.  Then kts 10 at 7 am.  So looked like we could go south of town. It was almost flat running down the channel and over to Admiralty.  Friends at work had got several deer in the flats near the beach in the past few weeks, so I picked a spot Matt and I went to last year.  It was so good to get out.   Sometime inertia seems to grab hold and I find every excuse not to go.  As soon as I leave the dock, I wonder how I could have any excuse for not going. We anchored the boat off, ran the line from the anchor up the beach to a tree, shouldered our packs, and headed into the woods.  The blueberry leaves were yellow.  Most were still holding on but it won’t be long now.  Another freeze and some wind and they’ll be gone. The place went to hunt rises fairly gradually up to a steep hill that’s essentially a cliff. It’s not far from the beach to the hill – maybe half a mile.  There are a few muskegs at the base of the hill.  We worked our way up, called at the first spot where we could see a little, and nothing.  In the next little clearing, on my second series of calls, I swore I heard a little mewing but since I didn’t hear or see any movement, it never registered.  Then here comes a doe charging in.  She was no further than 20 yards – maybe 10 – when I raised the gun.  Already had a shell in the chamber, so clicked off the safety, put the neck in the scope, and fired.   Clean miss.  Doe looked like she was kinda mad that a fawn could make such a noise, then realized maybe it’s not a fawn, and turned and sauntered away as I shot and cleanly missed again.  Kurt, who was right next to me not 10 yards away could not see the doe because there was a bush between him and the deer.  I had all the time in the world to be calm, get a rest, put the crosshairs in the right place and squeeze the trigger, but as it seems the first deer every year, I rushed the shot and missed cleanly. At the next spot where we called, Kurt saw one but it seems it was moving away from us, not coming to the call.  I never saw it.   We worked our way up to the muskegs at the base of the hill and never saw another deer.  Not much sign, either, of deer or bear.  We had lunch in a big muskeg in the sun and dry air.  When we swung down to the beach, we were a good half mile or so down the beach from the boat and so a long, steady, slow walk back on the beach rocks at mid-tide.    Luckily, once we got down to the beach we had just enough beach to get through a few spots without having to climb up into the woods, which were pretty brushy.  Kurt forgot to bring the Ranier so I told him all the way back how good one would have tasted right then.   A great first day of deer hunting. 

Jeff, Kurt, Ron and Andrew helped Lance and fillet, portion and vac pack about 30 cohos donated to the food bank via the Salvation Army from DIPAC.  Took less than 2 hours, including clean up, and good to get a group of people together who each pick a job and just go.  We put the vac-packed fish on trays in the freezer and I’ll go out tomorrow and get the portions and get them to the food bank freezers.  The fish looked great. –