Chatham Adventure

Took my first trip to Freshwater Bay in my skiff. I’ve been down there numerous times with Larry on the landing craft, and on the Dutchmaster when I power trolled. But this was the first time I ran there in our 20′ Hewescraft aluminum boat.

Opening day for summer king salmon fishing for the troll fleet is July 1. I considered places to fish from Juneau. The outer coast would be the most productive for fish, but the run there would be 100 miles, and the conditions would need to be calm for me to run there and back, and calm on the big ocean to fish in my small boat. Not a likely scenario over a 4 or 5 day period.

The second option was north Chatham Strait. When I power trolled, fishing there could be good right to the end of June, and then I’d go outside to fish summer king salmon. So, I figured there still could be a few king salmon in north Chatham. I knew the Hidden Falls Hatchery king salmon return had dwindled to nothing, but figured those weren’t the only stocks of fish we were catching in late June. I picked East Point as a place to try.  It is the point between Freshwater Bay and Tenakee Inlet. The Bay and the Inlet both provide shelter in a wind, and I knew there were protected anchorages in Freshwater Bay from my power trolling days. And if something went awry, I could always get to Tenakee to tie up.   If the weather looked perfect, I’d run down there and give it a try.

Well, the weather forecast WAS perfect. Record high temperatures forecast with light winds and mostly calm seas. This trip was on. I started getting things ready the week before.

I had pulled out the nice bench seats from the boat when the hard top was welded on this past winter. There was just the passenger and captain seats remaining. So out came the passenger seat.

Now I had room to line up 4 big Igloo coolers end to end in two rows on the port side of the cabin. These would serve to hold the ice, and to pack the fish in. They would also serve as the base to a makeshift bed where I could sleep at night. When I had the hard top welded on to replace the soft top, I told the welder not to make a rear wall and door for the cabin, just so I could do what I’m doing now. Instead of a back wall, I installed the strips of plastic used for walk in coolers and freezers, allowing me to drag coolers into the cabin with ease.  It was all coming together now.

The strips do a good job of keeping the weather out and allowing ease of passing through. One thing I wasn’t counting on with the hard top was the echo chamber it’s created for the engine noise. That’s the one downside to the strips, as they don’t block out the noise from the 2 stroke Mercury Optimax 140 hp outboard. This is the engine my brother in law gave me, and I do love its power to carry a load and still get on step, and and its fuel efficiency, burning between 6 and 7 gallons and hour. But it’s still louder than a 4 stroke. It’s not so much that it’s loud in decibels as it creates some sort of resonance frequency that’s tiring to a person. Like listening to a diesel engine on a commercial fishing boat all day. To compensate, I wear ear muffs on long runs.

Opening day was July 1, so I planned to get down to Freshwater Bay the day before. I woke up early on the 30th, and drove with the coolers to Taku Smokeries to get ice. They had just put it out, and it was beautiful. Like sand. In 15 minutest, I filled 3 of the coolers to the top, and half filled the 4th, which would be the first cooler to ice. Everything was ahead of schedule now. By early afternoon, I was ready to go.

I thought the trip to Freshwater Bay would take 3 to 4 hours based on my trips with Larry. With calm seas and a bluebird day, I was there in 2 hours. I couldn’t believe it. Even the juncture of Chatham Strait and Icy Strait was nice. I anchored in Pavlof Bay, where I’d anchored years ago with my cousin Marc Reisner and my Dad on a June trolling trip. We’d seen numerous brown bears feeding on the new grass in the bay, and Marc rowed the punt over to check out the water falls of the creek at the head of the bay.

I started in to get things ready for tomorrow. I got four spreads of troll gear staged for each of my two makeshift gurdies. My buddy Kurt turned me on to a lure called King Kandy last year, and I was using the cut plug version behind a flasher, and the “whole herring” version by itself on a spoon leader. I also had some number 7 Canadian Wonder mother of pearl spoons in the mix as well, as this had been my go to spoon in my power trolling years.

Once I had things ready for the next day, I got my bed set up on the coolers, and then laid down and started to read Wayne Short’s “This Raw Land”. He and Mike McConnell are two of my favorite Alaskana authors, likely because they wrote about the Southeast Alaska that I love. Wayne has written several books on the country I live in, and, like Mike’s books, each chapter in his books are their own short story. One of the chapters was of his brother’s miraculous survival of a plane crash near Tenakee on a flight from Baranof Hot Springs to Juneau, and I was now anchored right in the neighborhood where the plane went down.

Wayne’s son put something on Craigslist or Facebook years ago needing a favor in Juneau (he lives in Petersburg) and I helped him out – and of course, he is good friends with my friend Paul Bowen there. He sent me signed copies of all of his Dad’s books as a thank you.

I was up at 4 am the next morning and got the gear down and fishing by about 415. I had fish on right away. I couldn’t believe it. I was gonna catch some kings in this backwater location. I caught all shakers (sublegal-sized king salmon), except for one legal (28 in) fish that first hour, but I was hopeful with so many fish around that I’d find the promised land!  Well, it was not to be. I only caught one more legal king that day, and some 20 shakers. I also caught a coho, a pink, and had to shake many, many halibut as I could not retain them. After 12 hours of fishing, I called it a day about 430 pm. I caught one more legal king, to make 2 for the day. I anchored again in Pavlof Bay, and took a nap.

I awoke about an hour later baking in the oven of my skiff cabin. The temperature was in the 70’s, and I was hot, hot, hot. I had several hours til bedtime, and this heat was not cutting it.  I made a plan. I boiled 2 quarts of water in my jet boil, filled my thermos with hot water and instant coffee packets, and secured coffee for tomorrow morning. Then, I pulled the anchor and went fishing again. In my underwear and a tee shirt.  Trolling with the front door of the boat cabin open provided some respite to the calm, hot air in the anchorage.

I trolled for a couple hours. More shakers!  I also caught a nice bright pink salmon and bright small coho. These were cleaned and went on ice. The Contehs will like these. I saw a doe blacktail deer with her fawn on the beach.  I trolled until the sun had almost set at about 930 pm, and finally it cooled down enough to sleep. I read the last chapter or two of Short’s book, and went to bed.

The next morning, I didn’t get going til about quarter to 6 in the morning. I started just the 8 hp Yamaha kicker I troll on to get me out of the harbor so as not to awake the others anchored there.  Once the sounder showed I was past 100 feet, I put the gear down.  Not long after I had a fish on and brought it to the boat. A keeper!  28 inches with not much to spare.   Not long after, I passed a beach and there was a brown bear, foraging, I think, for sand fleas. Things were looking good with this early fish. But like the day before, it was not a harbinger of things to come.  It would prove to be the only legal king I’d catch on day 2.

I put the gear back down, and continued trolling up the coast line. I got out some other lures, snaps, line and crimps to put together some more king salmon lures. I was intently crimping a loop in the end of a leader line when I looked up and just about jumped out of my skin.  There, right next to me, was the trooper boat!  A rigid hull chambered boat. I could tell they were amused at my surprise. I walked outside the cabin, and the trooper greeted me and asked to see my paperwork – an ID, my limited entry card, and my commercial vessel license. Luckily, I had all three on hand. I brought them to the stern, and answered the troopers questions of my card id number, etc. It was all very cordial. They did not board me, which would have meant I would have had to pull all my gear, and I must say I would have been anxious if they had looked at 2 of my 3 kings, as I measured them to be 28 inches – several times to be sure! – but surely not 29 inches, and would the trooper see the same length as I……..

I caught 2 rockfish and a coho to add to the mix today, but no more legal king salmon. I also caught gobs of nice halibut that, if I lived in a, quote “rural” area, I could have kept, but since I live in Juneau, I could not..  But great knowledge to know for a sport fishing trip there sometime.

After crossing my two troll wires for the umpteenth time, I was ready for a change. Chatham Strait had laid down from the 1 to 2 foot chop at mid-day, and I thought I’ve move north to Whitestone Harbor, and try there tomorrow. I had one good day of spring king fishing trolling there years ago.

I hauled up my gear one last time, and headed to Point Augusta. On the way, I saw a group of humpback whales bubble net feeding.  They all dove together, then after a minute or two, they all came to the surface with their mouths agape to feed on the herring that were schooled together by one of the whales blowing a ring of bubbles around them.

As I approached Pt Augusta, I saw a purse seiner rounding the bend. Uh oh. Then not much further, another one. Dang it!  There was a purse seine opening in Chatham. So, I decided to soldier on to Funter Bay, where I hand troll for coho salmon from mid-August to mid-September.

Now came the lonely part:  crossing Chatham Strait. On a chart, it might not look all that far from one side to the other. But North Chatham Strait can be a witch’s cauldron. Even on a seemingly calm day elsewhere, the wind may be westerly where Icy Strait joins Chatham Strait, and the wind in Chatham Strait may be northerly. Or southerly. Creating a stacked up sea at this juncture.

It isn’t that pleasant on a displacement hull commercial boat. On a planing hull outboard boat like mine, it can be an hour of misery. Tonight, it wasn’t bad at all.

I arrived at Lizard Head, a land mark for fishing south of Funter Bay, with a sigh of relief. I was on my side of Chatham Strait now. I would fish here and sleep in Funter Bay. After an hour and a half of fishing I decided just to call it a trip and sleep in my own bed tonight. I pulled up the gear, and on the last hook, there was a big gray cod. Normally, it would go with me to the freezer, but tonight, I didn’t want to clean another fish, so back it went.

It took an hour to get to the boat ramp in North Douglas from here. The cabin was so hot, and I had to ditch the ear muffs and listen to the outboard the last half hour. They were too hot to wear. As I came in to Fritz Cove, the place was alive with people enjoying the hot evening and the 4th of July weekend. Some young adults were actually swimming and floating in blow up float toy things. One group had tents set up on a pull out. It was a perfect evening, except maybe for the bugs, which were bad at the boat ramp, at least.

The drive from the ramp to the house seemed especially long, as I’d been fishing 12 hours and running a couple more. I left everything on the boat except for leftover food that needed to go in the fridge, greeted Sara at the door, and poured myself a tall one. A perfect end to a perfect camping trip.

Rhubarb Reckoning

I went on a rampage in the past few years harvesting rhubarb from our plot and those I’d see unharvested around town. Although I used some of it, I didn’t use nearly enough to keep up. At the same time, I separated and replanted our rhubarb plants in our plot a couple years ago. Those plants were ready for harvest.

So I dove into the freezer to pull the frozen rhubarb. I think it went back to 2020, and maybe some to 2019. It was alot. I brought it down to thaw overnight, and got online to look up recipes to see what I wanted to make.

Sara and I stopped at a garage sale on Saturday on the way back from looking at a camper out the road, and bought a steam juicer. I’d never used one, so wanted to try that out with the rhubarb. What a score.

I got up about 730 am, and I decided to make some habenero rhubarb jelly with the juice, rhubarb cheesecakes, and then can rhubarb with sugar like Doug and Val fed me in Bethel in March. The juicer is fabulous. Put water in the bottom pan. Stack on the juice catcher pan, then load the top colendar pot. I loaded up the pot, put the lid on, and started on the other two dishes. I got about 20 cups of beautiful red juice from the first load. It settlled down to about half the pot, so I just added more on top, topped up the water in the bottom pan, and went shopping to get ingredients I needed.

I ended up getting 32 cups of juice. I used some for the jelly, and froze the rest in Costco yogurt containers for later use. The 6 cheesecakes came out pretty darned nice. I wrapped them in foil and put into the freezer. I canned 15 half pints of the pepper jelly, subbing jalapenos for the habaneros as the stores were out of habaneros. I was confused as to why it didn’t make the 24 jars I expected, but it tasted good going into the jars. Finally, I canned 14 pint jars of rhubarb with sugar from a simple UAF Extension Office recipe. I think I finished around 4 pm.

Of course, the kitchen was a disaster. I did a load in the dishwasher, unloaded and reloaded another. Then got to work on the canner and steamer pots and pans. A good day in the kitchen on a rainy solstice day.

In between batches and canning, I corresponded with my fish processor friends. One can’t process sport fish this summer – the first time in probably 30+ years – because they can’t find enough staff. Another had asked me if I needed a part time job to help at his place, and I told him I already had 3 jobs. The third said he might start processing but didn’t want to get overwhelmed as he only had a single cutter. Much of my fish business hinges on having these guys process my customers’ fish, so we’ll see how things shape up a few weeks from now.  The kids in the scout troop are too young to work in the processors, but ironically, many of them already have jobs this summer.  So much opportunity right now for the labor force and headaches for business owners just trying to tread water.

Spring Kings

Spring 2022 in Craig

Came down to rustle up some bear meat for the Contehs. They tried it last year and love it in their African dishes.

When I got to town, I stopped at Mike D’s with some maple syrup. He had 3 kings laying in the bed of his truck and gave me the hot tip on where to go.

When I got to the container, all was well. Sara had buttoned up everything just fine when she was here at Christmas. I told my inlaws I was ready to send bear meat up to the Contehs. Friends of my inlaws came over to Howard with their bear hide for tanning, and dropped the meat to me. Already butchered!  All I had to do was hang it overnight in the cool temperatures, then load it into the totes I brought down for shipping meat, and send it up to Andrew the next morning.

Before I shipped the meat the next morning, I went fishing based on Mike’s tip. I got fishing later than I’d liked – 6 am ish. I fished for an hour or two and didn’t see any fish caught by the other boats. Then I looked over and saw – I had a fish on!  It came to the net. Just over 28 inches, so a keeper.

I brought the fish home, butchered it, and then put it in the fridge to cool. The next day, I brined it according to Nevette’s Yakutat recipe, then put it into the smoker. Funny I can’t remember not to put the first batch in right on the metal mesh racks and think it won’t stick!  I should have turned it sooner so a pellicle would form on each side, or cut strips and hung them from a rod in the smoker rather than flat on the racks. Either way, I was scraping later on, but it still worked out fine. I’ve been eating the fish after I canned it, and it’s edible.

Kurt came down a day or two later from Juneau. So fun to have him here finally. We fished several days. Got a king on 2 of the 3 days he was here, and I lost one on the other day. He showed me how he fishes a lure called King Kandy, and we caught all the fish on those lures. We fished in heavy fog the last day. We could see the shore about 30 yards away, and wondered why the eagles were either in very low branches, or were on rocks on the beach. Then it hit us: they have superb vision, but like us, they probably can’t see through fog either, so had to get right down to the water’s edge to hunt.

Kurt insisted on eating out every night. We got Papa’s Pizza the first night, and had extra for lunch the next two days on the boat. The next two evenings we ate at the Dockside Cafe, which was doing a brisk business. The first night it was fun to see a couple tables of cannery worker families chatting in Spanish and enjoying their fellowship.

The outboard started overheating when we were trolling. It was peeing a stream out the water line, but it was kind of weak. This vintage outboard had a history of needing an expensive exhaust rebuild, and that’s what Chet, my neighbor and outboard mechanic, feared, but I distinctly recalled the former owner Brad telling me it had been done, and I was able to confirm that. Miraculously, Chet got me in two days later, and replaced the only other thing he could – the water pump impeller – and that did the trick. Or so I thought. The over heat issue eventually returned.

Kurt left when I took the boat in for repair, so I thought I’d try hand trolling during the upcoming opening. I got up at 230 am, and was launching the boat about 345 and was out fishing at about 415, which was sunrise. I put two spreads of lures on each of my two down rigger wires. All king kandy. I put whole king kandy on the bottom spread by itself, and above it, a cut plug king kandy behind a flasher. I was the second fisher on the drag, joining a power troller.

I thought this was my lucky day. I caught two keepers and 3 shakers in the first hour or so. More action that I’ve ever had. Another 5 or so power trollers showed up. And then nothing. Not a strike or anything, til about 1130, when I caught a shaker. That caused it to be a sucker pass, and I fished another couple hours of nothing again. Unlike the old days, I just couldn’t stay at it with no action, and I went to the dock and sold my 2 fish to Kenny. 27 lbs for 270 dollars. Not bad.

Brian invited me to go fishing with him and Howard the next day. They had had a 23 king catch day when Kurt and I had only caught 1 between us, so of course I had to join them. Brian and Howard also set a subsistence halibut skate on the way out to king fishing. Well, we only caught one shaker and there were no halibut on the long line. That was sad, but made me feel not so bad about catching only a couple fish with Kurt. As I told Kurt, fishing technique is only part of it. Alot of it is hearing what the catch is around the whole area from a network of friends that Brian has, and I don’t. Still, it was a great day of fishing and calm seas. A humpback whale cruised right by the boat while we were fishing, and there were dozens and dozens of sea otters all over.

As we got back near town, Howard checked his phone. Another mass murder.  Buffalo last week. This week, a lot of elementary schoolers in Texas. What are we doing to ourselves. We arrived at Brian’s dock. I thanked him for the great morning of fishing. I headed home, got my gear together, then headed to the store for a bottle, peanut butter and fly paper. The vodka was for later. I hooked up the boat, and fished the cliffs where I caught a fish the second day in town, and listened to the Texas tragedy on my XM radio app. 18 elementary kids gunned down by an 18 year old. So much like the Buffalo shooting. Body armor. An AR. Now Buffalo will be all forgotten and this new carnage in the news til the next one happens.

I had to do something or I’d be hitting the vodka right now. My God. The senator from Texas is saying thoughts and prayers with the family but 2nd amendment rights are second amendment rights. He could have just condemned it all, but had to stick the politics in. How does he keep getting re-elected?? Or sleep at night?  And then I think: just like our senators and representatives do from Alaska. It’s who Texans are and who Alaskans are. Like it or not. We’ve decided this is our price of freedom.  It’s a hefty toll.

We’ll soon embark on making our schools like reverse prisons – secured to keep the bad guys out. And what will that mean?  A boom to gun sales for the school security, and lots of ammunition because if you’re gonna be on gun duty, you gotta practice. The gun manufacturers profit again. And all that money that could go into classrooms will go to security, or be added on to our tax bills to pay for it. I’ll never get the protection of the ARs. Who needs an military assault rifle except to kill people?  I don’t even like seeing the police carry them, but how can they be less armed than the 18 year olds killing grandmothers where they shop or 10 year olds where they learn.

When I quit fishing and got back to the dock, my neighbor was launching his boat, so I helped him. He had to take his boat over to the harbor, then was going to call me after I took my boat home to come get him and retrieve his truck and trailer. I picked him up and when we got to the harbor, my inlaws were there. Brian was pulling his boat out, and also picking up octopus from a shrimper.

Another friend launched his boat to take to the harbor. So I went and retrieved him from the boat harbor. Then Ellen and I drove the short distance to the ramp to the fuel dock, and I carried four buckets of octopus up the dock to the truck in two trips from one of my niece’s classmates who is now shrimping.

On Wednesday afternoon I was heading fishing when I met Lew at the launch. He was helping Mike launch his troller. Lew gave me a tip on where his kids caught fish. When I looked it up on the chart, I saw it was right near where we anchor to deer hunt. When I got to where I thought I was supposed to fish, I made a couple passes and nothing. It was pretty calm in here, but I could see it blowing down the channel further out. Then a skiff appeared in the choppy channel water. I saw him bobbing up and down and then it looked like he got his fishing gear in and headed downhill, passing out of sight behind an island. I thought – maybe that’s where I was supposed to be fishing. So I trolled across the top of the island the skiff had passed and just as I was about to turn downhill with the wind, whamo. A nice king. I’ve been fishing white King Kandy cut plug lures behind a red flasher with white tape as this is Kurt’s favorite and what he was fishng when he was here. I think it’s like using a deer call – you may not believe it works until it does, then it’s your best friend.

I couldn’t really fish the area again as the wind picked up, so I moved to the other side of the big island in the lee. I fished the drag there for the afternoon. I saw a humpback tail lobbing, then it was slapping it’s pectoral fins. Then it breached about 5 times. Later I saw it lunge feeding, I think, right along the shore, sometimes right in the kelp. Just me and the whale with no one else around. It never gets old.

Well, now I had the fever. I was up the Thursday morning and out to my favorite spot, as the wind had laid down so it was an easy 20 minute ride there from the launch. I soon had a keeper on and in the boat. Then another shaker not long after. Doug then showed up, just as I got another shaker on. I rounded the point with the cross and Doug was right behind me. He hadn’t had any strikes so he picked up and moved a little further west. I turned around, and as I got to the cross point, I was bouncing on the bottom. I sped up a little to lift the cannonball off the bottom, and whamo. My second keeper of the morning. Just like the old timer told me at the boat launch the day before. He said he saw me hand trolling and asked how I did. He said the good sized kings were right on the bottom, while the shakers were up shallower off the bottom. He’d caught 14 the day I caught 2. Great to learn from  a nice local troller.

Friday the fever was really bad. I was up at 340 and out with the gear down at 415. What a day this morning would be. As I came east to the cross, what did I see but a wolf. I could immediately tell by it’s gait. Then it went around the corner. Wait. No it didn’t. I  could see its head above a log on the beach. It was checking me out. I slowly continued trolling around the point. The wolf went into the woods around some cliffs, then came out on the beach again.  As I rounded the corner, there it was. Waiting for me again. Now it perched on a flat rock, just staring at me. And then whamo. there goes the fishing rod. It wasn’t a big strike, and when I grabbed the rod, I thought it was a shaker. Then it started taking drag. I could feel it’s weight. Then it just stopped near the bottom. A halibut!

I reeled in the downrigger ball, then worked the fish around to the opposite side of the boat. I looked to be sure I had the gaff close at hand. It took awhile to coax it to the surface. I could see my flasher, then the king kandy cut plug slid up the line. It was a second before I saw the halibut, as it’s dark on the top. Not sparkly like a king salmon. It was big enough to keep for sure. When I got it to the surface, I came down hard on its noggin with the back of the gaff. Then quickly spun the gaff, put the business end of the gaff through the fish, and hauled it aboard. It was about a 40 lber, give or take. I bonked it again, put my gear back down, then found the heavy knife, cut gills on the fish, put a rope through its gill and out its mouth, and then over the side to bleed the fish. It was already a great day and not even quarter after 5 yet. I fished til 915 without another strike and called it a morning after the over heat alarm was going off once in awhile on the big motor.

I cruised the 20 minutes back to the launch ramp dock. Craig has beautiful fish cleaning stations, complete with water hoses. Luckily I had the right knives with me. I filleted the halibut, skinned and portioned the fillets, then rinsed off the white halibut meat and dropped it into the bucket. Now just to drain the fillets when I get home and they’ll be ready to vac pack.

Bob is sending down the spare kicker i got off Craigslist last summer on Ak Seaplanes. Should get here tomorrow. Hopefully it’ll run like it did when I bought it. I’m hoping to get Chet to change out the thermostats on the big engine, and see if that helps with the overheating at low speeds.

Well, the thermostats got changed. I headed out Saturday morning hoping that was the cure. It wasn’t. It actually made it worse. When I dropped to idle to troll, I no sooner got the gear in when the overheat alarm went off. So, I came back in. My kicker was in, so I went out to the air service and got it, slowing by all the runners for the Prince of Wales marathon race today. Saddest sign I saw was “Cheer up. You only have 23.5 miles to go”. Ida quit right there. Before I left, I brined the frames, bellies and collars from the 2 kings I caught on Thursday and put them in the smoker.

I brought the kicker back and it would not start. It took awhile to diagnose. I started by just cleaning the carb after it look like nasty puss coming out of the carb bowl. Still wouldn’t start, so I took off the carb for more cleaning, and then. Finally. I did a systematic trouble shoot. I pulled the fuel line off the fuel pump and cranked the engine. Fuel was pumping so that wasn’t the issue. I then thought – Bob had drained the bowl when he sent it down, so I’ll try priming the bowl with fuel, then give it a try. That was the solution. It fired up and ran for 20 minutes. So hopefully the kicker is gonna be a go. I swapped out the good prop from the dead kicker with the chipped and bent prop on this one.

Then my neighbor hollered. I gotta a bear for you. So I got my butchering knives and totes together and went to his garage, where the carcass was hanging from whick he had removed the hide. I got the bear quartered, put the meat into pillow cases and the remaining bear frame into the truck bed, then brought it home and divided it into totes for shipping this evening to the Contehs.

I shipped the bear meat north to Juneau, and was gonna go fishing this evening. The handle on my trailer winch rounded out and no store in town sold the handles. Mike said he thought there was one on his old trailer, so I thought I’d do that first to get all my chores done before fishing. Well, there was no handle on the old trailer carcass, so I returned home to try to rig a handle with what I had. My final decision was to use a crescent wrench to wind the winch strap in, and then find a handle or whole winch set in my garage in Juneau for next trip down here.

As I looked out to go fishing, I saw it had blown up. Not too bad, but enough for a bumpy 20 to 30 minute ride to the fishing grounds. So, I just hooked up to the boat, drove it up onto the highway so I wouldn’t wake my neighbors when I left in the morning, and called it a day. My final chore was to fix the door on the shed, which I did, and then I took the salmon out of the smoker and put it in the fridge after a taste test, which was perfect. I’ll hope to get some more fish this week so I can have a case or two of half pints of smoked canned salmon parts left over after filleting the sides for freezing.

I headed out to fish the next morning, hopeful the kicker would make fishing possible. When I got to the point, herring were on the surface, and eagles diving on them. I soon had a fish on. The drag was screaming. But when I grabbed the rod, it got off. Not long after another fish on. This one came up to the surface on a diagonal behind the boat and zip, right through the prop. Good bye flasher and king kandy. The kicker, however, was working well. My inlaws and friends showed up after 8. And then it happened. All of a sudden, the kicker just quit. Didn’t sputter or surge. Just died. And it wouldn’t start. I was drifting towards the beach, so thought I better wind up the downrigger and get the gear off the bottom. Then I saw the rod bobbing, and thought I had a rockfish on. Then it ran. That’s no rockfish. A king salmon had hit the gear on the way up or as it was drifting. Just legal. Wow. That was lucky.

Now I had to fish on the big motor again. I got a couple hours more fishing in as the big motor had had time to cool all the way down while I was on the kicker, so took a long time to get hot.

Back to the dock. I remembered to bring my knives, and butchered the salmon on the nice cleaning stations here. I brined the collars and bellies and put them in the smoker, then vac packed the fillets. As I vac packed them, a knife fell off the counter and I felt a pain on the top of my foot by my big toe. I thought the butt of the knife had landed there. A few seconds later, I looked down after moving my foot, and saw blood on the floor. Turns out that pain was the tip penetrating my skin. I took off the sock expecting the worst, but it was a tiny puncture. Put a bandaid over and the sock back on and all was good.

Then to work on the motor. The motor died so quickly I thought maybe it was some kind of ground from a wire that got in the wrong place when I was working on it yesterday. I removed a spark plug and left if in the spark plug wire next to the block to check for spark. I tried disconnecting the kill switch. Still no spark. I scavenged the coil from the dead motor at Chets, and still no spark. Then I got online and looked for threads of repairs similar to this one. A boater had what sounded like exactly what happened to me, and said he changed the CDI computer module and that fixed it. I went back and scavenged that off the old motor. The CDI has lots of wire connections to it, so I carefully unplugged a wire from the old one and into the new one, one at a time. The outboard fired right up. That was it!

My neighbor said he had a bear to find a meat home for. The Contehs were plugged, so I texted my former co worker who grew up here and she was all over it. I quartered the bear and got it out to Ak Seaplanes freight so I would be able to fish tomorrow and not have to worry about it.

Well, another low after a high last evening repairing the kicker. When I got out fishing, it would not start. It would fire, and run a bit, but not keep going. So I tied off a bucket on each side to slow the boat, and trolled on the big motor, keeping it at 900 RPM to avoid overheating. Mid morning, I wasn’t paying attention, got to shallow water, turned hard to port, gunned the motor so the weights would swing back. But this time I was too late. The troll wire broke the bungee at the end of the downrigger shaft, then went under the boat, wrapped in the prop, seizing the engine. Fortunately, this wasn’t the first time this has happened, so I threw out the anchor and got to work. Both wire and the soft ganion line backing from the downrigger reel were wrapped. I put the spoon end of the cleaining knife in the end of the pike pole, and used it to reach out with the knife to cut the ganion. I was able to retrieve the free end of the wire, and hauled in the wire, leads and fishing gear by hand. Didn’t lose anything except the tattle tale bell from the bungee that broke.

I patiently worked unwrapping the ganion and wire from the prop, and finally got it all clear. I pulled the anchor, and motored out. I dropped the gear in from the other side, and just fished one side for awhile while I straightened out the wire and gear for the other. Soon I had that gear out too.

I fished from about 415 am to noon without a bite. I know having to fish faster than I wanted may not have helped, but I didn’t see any commercial or sport trollers catch a fish around me so not sure how much an effect it had. Mikey and Cheryl caught 2 power trolling, so there were a few fish out there.

On the way to the house, I stopped and took the carb off the dead motor, as I know Chet and Sal had cleaned that out and had that motor running. I swapped carbs, and it fired right up. I let it idle for a good 10 minutes without it missing a beat. Maybe the CDI needed to match the carb. We’ll see if it will run tomorrow.

Heavy fog on Tuesday morning. I decided I’d see if  could get to the pressure control valve on the big motor and if so, see if Chet had the part. Turns out, it is easy to get to. And, Chet had the part. This was the last thing to change cheaply in the engine cooling system before the dreaded exhaust repair, which has already been done once. I replaced the valve, and by then, the fog had lifted, so I headed out fishing.

When I started the outboard, the pee stream from the engine was not any stronger. So, not a vote of confidence that it was the valve I replaced. The big engine never overheated today, but I didn’t have it at low idle for long enough to know one way or the other.

I put the gear down at the cross. Mike was out there, too. He had caught a couple fish already this morning.

The kicker started right up, and when i got shallow, I started the big motor, gunned it with a hard turn to port, and this time I lost the wire on the starbard downrigger, along with the 70 dollar cannon ball and 40 dollars worth of lures and flashers. I decided to just fish the other side, which I did the rest of the day.

The kicker ran flawlessly for about 4 hours. Then just quit. Just like the day before. Only this time, it would restart, so it wasn’t a spark problem, but a fuel problem. By now it was really lumpy with west wind that wasn’t forecast. I kept going down wind, and Mike said to go back into Trocodero, which I did, and it was much nicer back there. I started to check the fishing gear, and when I cranked up the gear,  it was really hard to crank up the wire. I got up to the last spread, and then realized the last hooks had hooked up with something. The wire I lost!  I couldn’t figure out what was going on at first. Then realized that the wire was wrapped in the big prop, which I didn’t notice, because it wasn’t visible when I checked right after I lost the wire, and it hadn’t wrapped tight to kill the engine. I yarded all the mangled wire up, and got back my  cannon ball and all the gear. Only loss was the wire. No big whoop.

I realized now I had to come up with another plan or just not hand troll from this boat. I realized Kurt was right – I need to move the downriggers to the rear of the boat so the wires can’t get in the prop. I can still use them forward for sport fishing, but need to put them to the rear for hand trolling. I fished the rest of the day and shook an undersize ling cod and a little rockfish, but never ran into a salmon. I think it’s time to button up the container and head home to Juneau.

Already a good trip

Got to Craig on Sunday after a hectic few days in Juneau for Salvation Army duty. Sara did a great job organizing the place when she was here on her own at Christmas.

Ellen said she’d take me bear hunting, and when I said I’d rather just get meat from a hunter who only wanted the hide, she found me some. It showed up just a few hours later when I was talking to Howard in his garage/taxidermy shop. The friends brought their hide for processing to Howard after Ellen had sealed it, and then we drove over to my shed to hang the meat. I was expecting an in tact carcass but they had already quartered it and all we had to do was put the meat in game bags and hang it up. They had taken beautiful care of it. The dad from Utah was happy to get some maple syrup from me. Andrew will be pleased with the meat. I let the meat hang to cool for a perfectly competitive cool weather day and sent it up on Ak Seaplanes this morning.

I got up early the yesterday and went king salmon fishing after Mike told me he had a good bite the morning before when I dropped him off some maple syrup. The drag is close to the ramp, so a good shakedown for the boat.

I didn’t get fishing till just before 6, and over the next few hours I didn’t see any of the other boats there catch a fish. Just after the low tide change, I got one on. When it came to the net I couldn’t tell if it was the minimum 28 inches or not, and breathed a sigh of relief when it was just a hair over. I fished awhile longer and saw no more fish caught so headed home. I still had to get my launch ramp sticker.

When I went to city hall, I knew the woman behind the counter. She’d helped us do a clam survey for adfg years ago, and was kind of a shy but really smart kid. She seemed like she’d shaken the shyness. When I asked her what she was doing, I was floored when she said she was the new city planner for Craig. It made my whole day. Even more than catching a king.

This morning after I shipped the bear meat, I took the king out of the fridge and sliced the fillets the long way into strips, then cut them to length for canning half pints. I put them in a 9 cup water to one cup salt brine for 10 minutes, along with the fins and backbone. I put them in the colendar to drain, and then wire brushed the smoker racks. I was just barely able to fit all the pieces on the 4 little racks, but I made it. Now to cure dry, with a little smoke later on, then pressure can. A satisfying chore for this rainy day.

On the job training

Got to help out the Salvation Army major here the past several days. It’s the 100th year anniversary of the Salvation Army here in Juneau. The local corps put on a dinner for the visiting dignitaries, and Shane, the major in the church here, is a great cook, and so rather than catering, he did the  dinner himself. He cooked 8 port shoulders all day, then I met him at the church kitchen with his kids and helped them pull the meat apart. He also made a two or 3 bean dish with bacon that was either added or already in the cans of beans. We put the beans in two big high sided trays, and the pork meat in another two trays, and then put them in the fridge.

The next day a few hours before the dinner, we put the beans and pork in a 350 degree oven to reheat it. We turned the contents every 20 minutes or so. When we got down to 30 minutes to meal time, I cranked up the heat to about 400 as I was worried we weren’t getting warm enough, and by 30 min later, everything was great.

Then today we had an afternoon event at the Douglas Pavilion ball fields area. I was to cook 500 hot dogs to give away out of the Salvation Army canteen RV we used up in Haines during the landslide disaster a year and a half ago. Shane ran me through how to do it before hand. I mean, this stuff isn’t heart surgery, but if you haven’t cooked 500 hot dogs to serve before, the advice was most welcome.

I got going about 4 hours ahead of time. I filled both my pressure cooker pots about half full of water and put them on the stove. Then I got the hot dogs from the army kitchen refrigerator, and started unpackaging all the hot dogs. When the water in the pots began to boil, I filled them with hot dogs until the water was near the top, and I put the lid on. I didn’t pressure cook them – just used the pots for the job.

I’d read it takes about 4 to 6 minutes to boil a hot dog. But I knew I’d put all these hot dogs into boiling water, and that cooled the water, so I started timer at 5 minute intervals, and I’d take the hot dog temperature every 5 minutes. I was shooting for 165 degrees. It took about 15 minutes to get the pot of hot dogs on the big burner up to 165 degrees, and about 20 minutes to get the pot on the smaller burner there.

Like I saw Shane do, I filled pans with boiled hot dogs after I let them drain for a short period, and put the pans in a heated oven until they were all done. Then I put the hot dogs in cambro containers, which kept the hot dogs warm til the end of the day.

Next I learned at a Salvation Army event, while there may be alot of left overs, it’s likely not much goes to waste. Among the attendees at the event were people that the Salvation Army regularly feeds, and people that help feed those who need it alongside the Salvation Army. Both of these groups know people who can use the food.

So, I started packaging up the hot dogs in groups of 12 or 24 in foil, since the rolls were 24 to a bag. That way I could hand of a pack of hot dogs with a bag or half bag of buns, and the two could be united when they were needed, and not beat up the buns by putting them all together.

Of course, there was pulled pork to be taste tested and broken hot dogs to be taste tested, so I’ve had my fill or the two for awhile. But I’m better prepared to tackle a big meal now should the need arise.

Roof Repair

Finally got to the cabin roof repair. I took over a kid, now about 30, who I’ve known most of her life – and Sara all of her wife – to the cabin for an adventure from Port Angeles with her boyfriend. I dropped them off on Wednesday and scheduled a pickup for Thursday. I told them I’d come over prior to the rendezvous time if the weather was nice and I Paul, who was visiting from Petersburg, got on his flight back home all okay.

Everything came together on Thursday, and I got over there about 3 pm. I had a 24 foot fiberglass extension ladder with me. I learned a new trick for hauling a ladder. I wanted to try to put my shoulder through the ladder rungs and carry along my side. That sort of works, but was hard to find just the right balance point and I thought I’d just have to stop several times to rest and readjust.

Then I discovered that if I put the middle rung over my head and balanced the ladder on my two shoulders – well, it was hardly any effort at all to carry it. Once I did that, I walked all the way to the cabin without needing a breather.

The kids were there when I arrived and helped me to get ready. I put the fiberglass ladder up to the cabin eave, and the boyfriend held the ladder while I climbed up. After a few attempts to throw a line over the roof to the other side, I finally succeeded. I climbed down, then put the cabin aluminum ladder up a tree in the back of a cabin, and had the boyfriend hold the ladder while I climbed up with the other end of the rope I’d thrown over. I tied it up high on the tree with a clove hitch, and two extra half hitches, to serve as my anchor.

I put on the fall protection harness Bob loaned me, dumped a bunch of roofing screws into my hoodie pocket,  then climbed up the front ladder again with the bag containing more screws, the screw gun and extra batteries. I threaded the safety rope through the harness stopper, brought the rope tight, hung the bag on the ladder, put the screw gun inside my hoodie, and tentatively climbed on the roof. I brought the rope tight.  It felt good and secure and gave me some confidence. I climbed up to the peak.

The half of the ridge cap that was hanging down the roof was held on by a single screw. The other half had about half the screws missing. I felt like I’d got up there to do the repair just in time.

The original roofer had screwed down the ridge cap to every other peak on the roofing. I screwed the ridge cap piece that was off to every peak of the roofing on either side, then continued to do the same on the ridge cap still in place. By now I’d been bracing myself at a 60 degree or so angle for awhile, and the backs of legs were getting a little jello-y. I saw I could replace some screws here and there on the roofing that were jacked up, but decided I’d quit while I was ahead. I backed down the roof, letting the safety line out as I moved down, and felt a sense of relief when my boot felt the first rung below the roof eave.

We then untied the safety line, and went inside the cabin in the warmth of the spring sun and I had a Genesee Creme Ale left over from last year while the two of them split a micro brew they’d brought from Oregon.

A good day and the ridge cap should be good for another 30 years.