Pondering in the Pit

Well, it’s a Bloody Mary morning….. Willie Nelson

There is something about the smell of blood before your 5 am coffee that just seems wrong.  It’s mid-July, and it’s been like this for several days now; wake up by 4 am, listen to the latest weather while the diesel engine warms up, fire up the stove and put the kettle on, then into the rain gear and onto the forward deck to pull anchor.
Find your place in the line of boats that are leaving Hoktaheen Cove, head between the fearsome looking guardian rocks over the breaking swell while silently praying that your motor doesn’t decide to have a morning hiccup and leave you to the mercy of the waves and rocks; then, keep going out past the one-mile prohibited zone offshore to begin setting gear.  It is a little bit of a matter of pride, but practicality too, to see how fast you can get all 4 lines with their total of 80+ hooks properly dispatched and fishing.  I’ve learned to put my floats out first so the other guys really have to look hard to see if my heavies are in, or if I am just in the back enjoying the view.

This year, with some coaching by good friend and fisherman Bob Santi on the Mary C, I am finally able to get the gear out in a respectable time.  It seems to be the little details that make a lot of difference.  Years past, I fluttered and pooted around with gear that varied in length and configuration, hoping that the Christmas tree approach would give me a clue as to what the fish wanted for the day.  This year, Lovie tied everything to EXACT lengths, and all my spoons were the same color, my flashers were consistent, and once we found the preferred hoochie design, that was the same.  Lovie made gear tubs for each type of gear, and neatly organized them so my initial set was always easy, no tangles or jumbled up leaders.  What a difference in productivity and attitude! Thanks Bob.  Thanks Lovie!

Lovie -my Sunshine!

Once the gear is set, I wander back into the wheelhouse to see where we are, what the other boats are doing, and if the coffee water is hot yet.  It usually isn’t, since we rarely leave the oil stove on overnight.  Even at idle, it keeps the cabin toasty, and neither of us sleep too well if it is too warm.  I also have a bit of paranoia (you think?!) about leaving the fire on overnight for both flame and carbon monoxide reasons, although we have detectors for both.  I just generally have a lot of paranoia while on the boat – ask my first mate if you need details.  So, since not much is more disgusting than lukewarm instant coffee, I usually just have to go pull a line to see if we have any fish, how deep they are, how big, what color they are biting on, and so forth.  That first Clunk on the head, Gaff, and Thump on the deck always results in our nice clean deck getting splattered with fish blood – also the bait shed walls, the gurdies, and me.  It always seems the first fish won’t die gracefully, but has some inherent duty to bleed and flop about as much as possible.  And most generally, I always belt out the first line of the old Willie song – never get too far, but it feels good to sing it out and smile, hoping this will be a good day with no surprises.

Where is my coffee??

By the end of the first pull, Lovie usually has mercy on me and has a hot cup of coffee ready – 37 years of being married to me, and she knows that I really don’t function well until the coffee goes in.   If it’s rough, or foggy, the morning tensions can be up early, too, and you know it is going to be a long day.  It’s incredible sometimes to have 50 fish on the deck, some in the hold, you are already battered from getting thrown from one side to the other in a 6 foot swell with a 15 knot wind and an ebb tide stacking up the chop, and you look at the clock – 7:15 AM… wow.  Why am I doing this?  Ah, it’s an adventure… and so it goes.

This was a good year – still is, as a matter of fact.  Our buddies are headed back north for the last round; coho and king are closed for the mid-season evaluation, and there is still a short 3-day king opener to come. 

In one of those decision moments, I decided to call it enough, and we have headed home.  We made a lot of improvements that worked wonderfully, but we got a couple of setbacks that made me nervous enough to head back to Sitka for evaluation and repairs.  Once we were there, it just seemed that the time was right to shut down and make the changes needed for the next round.  Optimism prevails, we have a new, modified plan for next year, and are excited to get it underway. 
I headed north to Sitka on the first of June, while Lovie held things together back home.  As it seems to happen these last few years, I am never quite finished with my programming work, and I have to split my days between all the boat projects and the programming projects. 

Summer Office

I have been able to get online to do my work, but so far have not found the bandwidth I have back in Montana at Applied, so it really crimps my style, waiting for code to transfer.  I always promise myself I’ll not leave town until the projects are FINISHED but so far, no luck.  By week 3, I was actually more Boatwright than Programmer, and by the time we ended the season I could hardly even remember what the project name was!  I just looked at my hit list for boat projects to be completed by July 1, and was impressed. 





There is always a ton of work to do just to get ready, not to mention the self-imposed miseries of new projects and improvements.  An abbreviated list for this year includes:

• Have the boat hauled out at Halibut Point boatyard for bottom paint, zincs, a new Transducer ( for the depth sounder) and new thru-hull fittings;
• Install the new radar, computer, AIS, heading sensor, depth sounder, and monitors;
• plumb the hydraulic lines to the new outboard gurdy locations;
• weld the new safety rails on, and install the roof tarp struts;
• install the new combo VHF-GPS antenna and the backup GPS unit;
• install the second LED floodlight and new LED decklite;
• wire in the refrigerator;
• build shelves in the forward storage areas and tool box location;
• install LED lights in the forward storage, electrical closet, and engine room;
• change oil and filters;
• prime and paint the new raised bow section;
• install UHMW trim on the new bow area;
• put the TRUE NORTH name back on the bow and stern.
• configure all the new software to integrate – CATCH, radar, AIS, sounder, temp sensor, heading sensor.

Those are some of the highlights, and it all went pretty well.  We love the new look of the boat, with the bulwarks and rails in place it looks like a little gunboat of some sort. 

I’ll post the season rundown next time; we survive, caught a lot of fish, and only had three or four heart-stopping moments.  We ran up the outside of Chichigof Island all the way to Elfin Cove and back to Sitka on our own, a real milestone for us; fuel problems, electrical problems, all in the name of the game.  It was our fifth season, so I guess we should be over any surprises, and next year we have no excuse.  We’ll sea…!
Meanwhile, my rearview mirror caught Lovie, early morning ponderings in the pit…

The Ties That Bind

Sometimes, the unexpected is not unwelcome.  After we returned home from the Christmas sojourn in Sitka, the seemingly unending gray, darkness, and cold of Montana winter set in for the typical spell. 

Days and nights all just blend together in a routine of getting up, going to work, returning home, and doing it all over again.  One begins to dream of sunshine and warm wind, with a little sand thrown in for good measure.  In the middle of one such dreary day, we received a call from a wise and generous couple who recognized the suppressed stress in our voices, and made us an offer we couldn’t refuse  - a week in Hawaii at a timeshare they were not going to use this year.  After about 12 good solid seconds of thought, I accepted the offer, and life suddenly had magic in it again!   Ok, it rained 94 percent of the time we were there, but it was WARM rain, and I even got sunburned!  There were rumors that we were visible from the space station as white blobs on the beach, but I chalk that up to jealousy….  Thanks again, Z’s…

On the way home, we landed in Seattle – my homing instincts overrode common sense, so I turned North to Sitka for a short week to keep the boat project cooking a little.  Lovie, bless her heart, came on home and went to work.

I called the welding gang before arrival, so they were ready for a couple of days of action.  I used a large piece of thin plastic from an old Murray Pacific sign as a template to trace the curvature of the sheer between the bow and the forward A-frame mounts, and transferred it to a sheet of 3/16 aluminum.  Out came the Dewalt power saw, the goggles, and the earplugs, and Kirk’s shop once again was covered in aluminum chips as the panel was carved into shape.  I wound up with two 14-inch wide by 12 foot long pieces that looked like huge metallic smiles.  We got several lengths of 1x2 rectangular aluminum tubing and all was ready. 

I called the harbormaster and told them I would be using the work float just next to the suspension bridge connecting Japonski Island with the main Sitka town.  You will recall I have spent a lot of time here in the last few years, so nothing new…  At 7 am Wednesday morning, the wind was blowing straight out to sea at about 25 knots.  I had an appointment in town early, and Connley was coming to weld at 10, so I went to the harbor and fired the True North up.  Backing out of the slip was a little tricky with the wind on my stern, but I managed to get out without hitting anything.  The short trip out of the harbor and around the turn under the bridge revealed just how hard the wind was blowing – I thought for the first time that tying up by myself might be tricky, but shrugged it off.   As I came under the bridge, I cut power and just let the wind drive me towards the float.  No one else was there, so sure enough, it was all me.  No problem.  I had prepared all my tie-up lines in advance, and the plan was, just kiss the bow against the side, kick the stern over, jump off and loop the center line around the big 12x12 timber that makes up the side of the float.  Well it worked – almost.  As I nosed in, the wind caught my stern and stubbornly pushed the boat away from the float.  I gassed it a bit, and swung the stern in till the middle bumped, nimbly leaped to the float with my line in hand.  I gave the loose end a fling to pass it under the timber, and missed – but did a dandy half-hitch around my left shin. 

Now the boat is heavy, so it takes a bit to get things to change direction.  Slowly, while I hopped along on one foot trying to untie the half-hitch, the boat gained momentum away from the dock, taking me with it.  Directly in its path was the dock and hinged steel gangplank used to access the workfloat from shore.  High-speed visions of my boat dismasted as it carried away chunks of the city property with me towing alongside on a rope in the water served no purpose in calming me.  I finally got it untied after about 12 feet of dread, and got about a foot of line around the beam.  By now there was a great push on the boat by the wind, and it took all I had to get it to stop.  I tied it off, leaned out, grabbed the rail, hooked my toes under the beam, and pulled hard as I could in a frantic effort to get it back up parallel to the float.  Slowly, things settled down, and I got tied up.  I walked with a limp for the next 3 days from a pulled muscle in my butt, but at least I wasn’t having to explain to the Coast Guard and City of Sitka why I lost control of my vessel!!

 

Between wind and rain showers, we were able to fit and shape the pieces for the bow.  Once things were finally bolted in place and reinforced, we were able to transfer the sheer curvature to the top of the piece and weld the 1x2 in place.  One free evening, I took out one of the old windows, and replaced it with one of the thick new aluminum framed safety-glass ones we ordered this winter.  I think it looks awesome, and can’t wait to get the other 4 in place.  

We worked frantically up to about 2 hours before my plane left, and got things all looking clean.  I still have to put the forward and side rails on when I get back, but the new raised bow sure adds balance to the look of the boat.  Can’t wait to get back and get it done.  More to go.  Home again, and spring is here!  Stay tuned!  It’s going to be a wonderful summer.  Someday. 

Christmas in Sitka - 2013

I seem to have lost some momentum in keeping this blog refreshed.  The things I feel need to be said;  the tales, tall and short; the steady breeze of life seems somehow to blow my bow off the mark just enough to miss the moments when the blog needs new spark.  Hopefully this post will be a little like blowing on the coals, and writing will flow again.

Last summer we were docked by a stupid mistake on my part – when I replaced the engine, I put a sub-standard nylon bushing on the prop shaft – not unreasonable, they work, there was one in town, and it was a fifth the cost of the heavy-duty bronze one I should have ordered.  While installing the prop, I waited too long on the grid, and was up to my waist in incoming tide when I was trying to get it tightened.  I almost was able to line up the prop nut with the hole for the cotter pin, but couldn’t quite make it.  I took the easy way out, backed the nut off just a smidgen to align the hole, and away we went.  For 2 summers – almost.  Details are in my last post, about Pushing Boats With Ropes.  In what turned out to be one of the most incredible fishing summer for Southeast Alaska, we decided to call it quits and head back to Montana for a taste of summer.  

We’re still undecided about the wisdom on that call – but, summer was nice, programming work was good, and we left Alaska with an optimistic outlook.  Probably could have made a bunch more fishing, but you never know.  Oh well.

Before we left, we stripped off the poles and stored them at Kirk’s, took off the gurdies, stripped the old “safety” rails off, and removed all the wood cap-rails.  I stripped the interior window trim and measured for new replacements. We then painted the topsides and left it all to dry, heading south. 

Then the planning began.  All those things you think of when out bouncing around, all the improvements and safety points you ponder when tied to the dock, they all began to churn and bubble in our thoughts.  This was the year we would try to get a big chunk of it done, it just seemed right.  I talked to the boys at the welding shop, and we agreed that December was most likely to be slower and they could have time to work with me on building the bait shed, raising the bow bullrails by about a foot, and adding safety rails that actually were substantial enough to stop you from falling overboard.  I made plans here at home to be gone for the month, and all was set.  A plan.

Late November, and along came the Pacific Marine Expo in Seattle.  For commercial boat people, this is like Willie Wonka touring the Chocolate Factory – everything you ever dreamed of under one roof!  From T-shirts to huge, 8-foot tall diesel engines, radars to rafts, it is all there to drool over.  We headed out with a wish list, and spent 2 days walking, talking, and planning.

We stayed down by Sea-Tac airport at a hotel we like, and just hopped on the Light Rail to head up to Seattle – hop off, walk a couple of blocks, and shop some more.  I love the Light Rail – something to do with missing all that nasty Seattle traffic.  It has to be one of the most unfriendly towns to drive in I have ever seen.  So, day 2 – we got on the train along with umpteen thousand other people, many of them quite an entertainment section just to watch.  At the first stop, some lady came up from behind me, stuck her face in ours, and asked “What are YOU doing here??”  Awesome!  It was Val, of the Rag Doll in Sitka, one of our good friends.  She and Ken live aboard a 58 foot sailboat and power troll for salmon during the season.  Like us, they had the shopping bug and had come down for the show.  What are the odds – we had entered the train car from different doors, and sat down back to back only one row from each other!  She happened to turn around and see us, so we spent the day at the show and had a nice dinner for the evening together.  Life is good.

Last summer Lovie did some research on places to stay during the winter at Sitka, and visited Fisherman’s Quay right on the waterfront next door to Murray Pacific, the marine supply store.  Winter rates and availability for one of their bunkhouses in the renovated old Pyramid Fisheries building were reasonable, so we made arrangements. 

 

If you ever want a nice place to experience Sitka, give them a look.  For us, it was ideal.  We were within walking distance of pretty much everything, and it was a wonderfully comfortable and well-stocked place to call home for a few weeks.  Internet access was pretty good, and I was able to work the early part of my mornings at my programming job.  It doesn’t get light in December until around 8:30, so things move pretty slowly that time of year.  Dark comes by 3:45, and everybody is ready to call it a day fairly early.  It was a nice, slow pace – quite enjoyable after the hectic rat-race that Kalispell has become.  People are actually friendly in the winter – summer has it’s share of jerks, but we found winter quite amiable.

I began by working with one of the local boatwrights to install new UHMW cap-rails.  UHMW is a bearing grade industrial plastic that is widely used in the marine industry for rails and other high-abuse situations.       It is fairly forgiving to work with, and with Mike’s expertise we were able to get a really tough, nice looking rail installed.  We stopped at the forward pole stays, as the raised bow project will modify things there a bit.  This stuff should last – rot is not an option!

Next, I installed a new dual Racor fuel filter system.  My old one was a big 900 model single filter.  If it plugged while underway and needed changing, I had to shut the engine down, drain it, replace the filter, and hope that I didn’t get any air in the system that would cause the painful process of bleeding it out to get the engine started. With the dual system, I can simply turn a valve to isolate the bad filter, replace it, and put it back online – all without stopping the engine.  This is always a concern, as fuel sources are not necessarily always as clean as you need them to be.  One more thing to remove some worry!

 

 

 

In preparation for the raised bow, I took off the old anchor roller assembly.  The old one was made of steel, and the roller had long since rusted solid.  “Roller” was just an imaginary term, so there was a deep groove in the middle worn by the anchor chain.  I duplicated the angle and moved it out about 8 inches further past the bow to reduce the gouging of the bow.  The new one is all 1/2” aluminum and is 12 inches taller than the old one.  We will be raising the bow another 12 inches with aluminum sheeting, putting a 1x2 aluminum cap rail on it, then welding a nice 1-1/4 handrail on top.  It should be pretty bullet-proof, and it gives us another foot of wave deflection up front.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you recall a couple of years ago, when we put in the new engine, we removed the old rotted plywood roof over the pit, and replaced it with a nice aluminum one.  That was mounted on our original center contraption that held the gurdies.  To get to the pit we had to travers a narrow piece of deck on either side for about 3 feet, while hanging on for dear life to anything we could find.  That particular part of the deck tends to have a residual slippery quality, since that is where most of the fish are landed and cleaned.  In a bouncy sea, this wasn’t always fun, and I always kept an eye on Lovie when she made the trip.  So, part II of the overall plan came together this time.  One fine (but rainy) day, I fired the Perkins up and made the trip down to the crane provided by the City of Sitka.  For a nominal fee, harbor customers can rent time on this to lift things onto or off of their boats.  This is the same crane we used to do my engine swap.  Kirk, Connley, and Dave showed up at the right time, and I crawled into the hold and unbolted the whole mess.  Kirk gently lifted it up and placed it on Dave’s big dump truck, and away it went to their shop.

 

The original plan was to get right to work, but the unforeseen always gets in the way; the owner of the building where their shop is made the decision to sub-lease part of their space, so a major move across a line in the middle of the shop began. My bait shed project and I were right in the middle of the hubbub, but I just kept focused and got after it.  Kirk would line me out on what I should measure and cut, Connely would weld it when ready, then I would grind and polish for a couple of days.  Nothing on a boat is right angles – everything must be “fair”, or pleasing to the eye when viewed against all the compound curves.  Kirk has a great sense of boat style, so he was pretty picky about the lines.  I was in hog heaven – no computer, just metal, cutting, grinding, polishing, fitting….

It all seemed to go slower than I thought, but I learned just how much work there really is in making a good bait shed.  The following pictures show a few details as I progressed.

Another major item involved my mast. For years it has been fixed to my deck, just aft of the wheelhouse.  There is no major support under it, so slowly pressure has formed a slight depression in the deck.  It seemed wise to move the forces, so we constructed a “Seiner Roll”, or a roll bar that is supported on the outside hull, above the strong “Bridge timber” that spans the boat in the center.  We then cut the mast off and fastened it to the roll bar, freeing up my deck and transferring the forces to a much stronger place.  The old free-standing pole mounts were made integral with the mounting plates, greatly increasing their strength.  We now can plan for the new deck structure that will involve hatches and tanks moved forward for a better center of gravity in the hold while fishing.  Lots more work!

 

Well, other than a new refrigerator, and fixing the plugged sink-water supply line, not much else happened.  I have lots more to do before fishing, but we’ve come a long way! 

 

 

I’ll let this do for now – next post can cover some of the more social times and fun we had.  Till then, … Fish On.  No, take a break, it’s Winter!! It was 22 below Zero for the last 2 days here – Sitka was… 35 above??

 

Tropical Alaska.

Pushing Boats with Ropes

What glorious weather!  This has been a summer to remember.  Sitka remained beautiful, fish were plenteous, and prices were ok.  This is the stuff I need to remember when everything is going wrong, rain is running down my neck, everything stinks, and there are no fish in the hold. 

In my last post Em and Todd had just arrived to help us out for a week, and as always, they were more than welcome.  We got them aboard and immediately went to the cannery to unload – nothing like the sight of lots of fish being offloaded to inspire the help!  We then headed out for Biorka Island, where we had been into a good run of Coho offshore.  It was later in the evening when we arrived at Simmons Bay to anchor for the night, so we didn’t drop any gear.  A nice quiet evening at anchor let us all work out the details of 4 adults living in a space that is comfortable for 2, but a bit tight for more.  I awoke at about 1 am to the pitching motion of waves and wind – the wind had shifted to blow right in the mouth of the harbor, and we were bobbing up and down in a manner that makes sleep really challenging.  There was not much chance of dragging anchor, so we slept fitfully till it was light at about 3:45.  Hot water and instant coffee from Korea mixed with instant Starbucks espresso, and we were good to go.  We headed out to set gear and work our way out past Biorka Reef to the main drag.  Didn’t take too long and the lines were obviously loaded.  It helps keep seasickness at bay to be active outside, so I put Todd in the pit with me and had him start pulling gear to see what we had.  The first was a nice king – too bad we can’t keep them now…  next one was a king …. and the next, next, next…!  Todd’s first 6 fish were nice kings that he carefully released per the rules, hoping they will survive.  There were a few coho on the line, but the kings kept coming until we rounded the reef and finally got into the schooled silvers.  We pulled fish steadily all day on a beautiful sea until late afternoon, when a snotty northwest breeze started making it like work to fish and we headed in Biorka Channel towards Goddard Hot Springs for the evening.  We kept our lines in the water till well in the channel, and began to pull.  They were still loaded, every hook having a nice coho.  A converted fishing boat being used as a vacation craft passed close off our starboard side as I pulled in fish after fish.  Five pairs of binoculars were trained on us as we worked to take care of the catch.  Shortly thereafter, they were all throwing fishing lines in the water in a hopeful manner.  Too bad the fish were actually caught a couple of miles away…!  

We anchored in Hot Springs bay, and the kids unlashed the dinghy for a trip ashore.  Lovie and I have anchored here several times, and something always came up that we didn’t get to the springs.  This time, we sent a scouting party while we cooked up a nice sea bass with all the trimmings.  They returned with glowing reports, so Mom and I headed for shore in the new little inflatable.  We have only had showers at the Eliason harbor facility this month, and those have been spread out over several day intervals – the little covered hot tub with its stupendous view and lovely hot water was a welcome relaxation!  We rowed back to the boat, cleaner and a bit more relaxed.  Anyone who has worked and lived on a fishing boat can vouch for the fact that there is a residual tension in living, and a soreness in every muscle most of the time.  A hot spring sure helps tame that down a bit!

The days went on, and we followed through on a tradition we started last year – we rented a Forest Service cabin, this time at Brent’s Beach on Kruzof Island, and invited Lois and Jake to meet us for a night.  We had the cabin 2 nights, but got to the mooring buoy a bit late in the evening the first night before J&L arrived.  We could barely see the cabin, nestled back in the thick woods, and I was a bit nervous about going ashore to an unfamiliar place with no heavy firepower in case of bears, so we stayed aboard the boat for the night.  I awoke as usual just at daybreak and went out on deck to check the water.  Looking at the shore, I spotted a large brown bear walking along the edge of the beach, so I awoke everyone to watch.  He ambled along until he came to the trail up to the cabin, and turned and went right up to it.  A few minutes later, he came back to the beach, and sauntered along nosing about as if he owned the place, which as far as we were concerned, he did.  I thought it was not too big a bear, but later compared his height to the kids as they walked along his tracks, and his head was about shoulder height on Goldilocks – I mean Em.

Jake came with Lois and Trixie and lots of ammo, so we weren’t too worried that evening – had hot dogs and lots of good eats around the fire.  Mom and I rowed back out and slept on the boat – brave, aren’t we!   Once again, Jake shot off some huge fireworks he gets to do with his pyrotechnic license, so we had a great show from the boat.  Echoes off surrounding little islands faded away slowly, and so did I.  Sleep is good.

The next day, we decided to stay in tourist mode and explore a bit.  We went north thru a small passage, viewed some spectacular little coves and protected spots, and headed up Krestof Sound to Nakwasina Passage, with the intention of heading down Olga Strait back to Sitka in time for the crew to catch their flight on Friday.

At about slack high tide, we arrived at the site of the wrecked tug that graces the shore of the entry to Olga Strait.  Pictures were in order as tourists, so I motored over close to the wreck to get the best view.  I put the transmission in neutral to drift, and when I put it back in gear, nothing happened.  I tried reverse, forward, more throttle, but nothing!  It was obvious something was badly wrong, but assessing the facts, I didn’t panic – tide was slack(and a very small tide at that), we were not yet drifting into the Straits, and a sailboat under power was heading in our direction from the North.  I contacted the sailors, a nice couple from Victoria, BC, and they agreed to pull us around the corner to good anchorage in Nakwasina for us to assess the problem.  Gave them a nice fresh coho for their kindness, and all seemed well.  I worried that the prop nut had come loose enough for the key to spin, and worried that the prop would drop off and be lost (a couple of grand!) if I kept turning the shaft, so we shut down and I got out the wetsuit.   Now I never have been a diver, just some light snorkeling, and the thought of going under my boat in an open ocean really is up there on the freaky list for me.  There’s something about the green fading to a dark, dark black that gets to me, and especially the thought of getting hung up or snagged on something… Oh well, enough.  Wetsuit on.  What a chore!  I knew I probably weighed more than I did when I bought it 12 years ago, but OUCH, this is tough!  I finally worked the second leg in to my knee, knowing I would not have any leg hairs left for weeks, when it dawned on me – we had stored the suit inside out, and the rubber part was supposed to be on the outside!!  Hmm, sure goes on easier the right way.

Em got in the dinghy as my support crew, Lovie manned the radio and lookout for passing boats that could tow us back to Sitka, and Todd was the gopher.  Under I went, and after a couple of tries, was finally able to get comfortable enough to ascertain that the prop nut was securely fastened with a cotter pin, so was in no danger of losing the prop.  I held the drive shaft, and with one hand was able to turn the big bronze prop freely either direction.  This video taken by Todd with his iPhone suspended shows me turning the prop as the tide rushes by… click to view  -- Not Going Anywhere!  Immediate reaction – the bronze key that ties shaft to prop has sheared.  No way to fix this one, so tow it is.

We saw the TAVA, a 38-42 footer that had been out for a week dingle-barring for black cod, loaded down and headed for Sitka.  A call on the VHF, and Neil the skipper came right over to our aid.  We had a tow line rigged and ready, pulled the anchor, and 2 hours later were tied up to the transient dock next to the grid to wait for a chance to get on and check things out.  I contacted the prop shop, ordered a new bronze key and spacer bearing – this was Thursday, and it wouldn’t be in on the plane till Monday.  Luckily the tides were getting bigger, with plenty of water to work the grid for a week yet.  Now, sit at the dock and wait.  I can do that for a while – Lovie Really does not do it well!! But, no choice.  We did lots of cleaning and thinking, and made some decisions for the year.  More on that in the next episode…  While we waited, I filmed this little bit  -- this is what I think of when I dive! – click to view:   Tranquility in Sitka Harbor

The grid trip worked perfectly – Kirk fired up the Jager and side-towed us into place – my parts came in, I pulled the prop and found the culprit key sheared, replaced it, tightened it as tight as it would go, and we floated free, under our own power again. 

Two years ago when we replaced the engine, I had to get a different sized prop.  The one we found was great, except it was for a 1-3/4 diameter shaft, and True North has a 1-1/2 inch diameter shaft.  They make a tapered adapter to deal with this – in nylon or bronze.  The nylon is about a quarter the price of the bronze, and happened to be in stock when I needed it, so I went with it.  Installing the prop, I was unable to get the cotter pin to align, so backed off tension ever so slightly to get it in – retrospectively, big mistake.  This allowed the prop to slowly work the nylon to failure, putting shock loads on the key every time we put it in gear.  We were extremely lucky it failed where and when it did – could have been in a lot worse situation, but we try not to think about that.  Just think ahead, and prepare for every possibility, because as Steve once said – if it hasn’t happened to you yet, it will, if you fish.

Ah… Fish On!

Whale Bay, July 2013

This morning is Saturday, July 20.  The last time I posted, it was raining.  This morning, I am tied to the transient dock at AB Harbor, Sitka, and I can barely see the bridge to Japonski Island.  Fog again, rain soup really, 54 degrees.  Just checked the weather in Texas and Salt Lake, both over 100 – hard to imagine right now.  Why are we tied to this particular dock, when we have a perfectly good stall a quarter of a mile away, somewhat removed from the pirates that inhabit this spot?  Another fishing story…  but first, Whale Bay.

We were up at 3:30 on July 1, pulling anchor in the early light and heading out of our pristine little cove to see what we could catch.  On our way in to the Basin, I had carefully arranged all our freshly tied up king salmon lures so there would be no delay in getting started.  I was even smart enough to put a 20 pound (hand troller size) cannon ball on each of my lines and lower them down to see how much line I had, if there were any bad spots that needed attention and so forth.  Everything had worked perfectly, so I was eager to get gear set.  Just outside the entrance to Kristoi, I dropped my first wing line into the water with its 50 lb cannon ball.  The night had brought the ubiquitous drizzle, so my Grundens jacket felt good with the hood turned up.  It was really good to be setting gear again!  First line out without a hitch – attached the new, ridiculously priced float bag to the line, and bingo, we were fishing.   I began to set the heavy line on the same side, with its 60 lb cannon ball; I got the first spread attached, lowered to the next beads, and zzzzzooom, the ball began to head for the bottom at a high speed.  The first reaction is to grab the stainless steel line to stop it, but I have learned to resist that temptation since I really enjoy having all my fingers.  I tried the brake to no avail, so grabbed a wooden handled gaff hook and pressed the line against the support column.   Finally it  stopped before unreeling the whole 900 feet.  I put the gurdy into gear and tried reeling it up, but it only slipped and would not engage.  I was worried that the ball was so far down we would hang it on something and lose it, so I  had Lovie head for deeper water.  Tools came out, and I adjusted the gurdy enough to get it to wind back up.  Analyzing the situation, it became clear to me as it had to many other misguided fishermen (or so I’m told!) – spray PAM is a great lubricant for gurdy slides and collars, but when you get over ambitious and put lots on the clutch and brake surfaces, don’t expect them to start or stop the  reels! Basically, I had oiled the brakes and drive clutches, then the rain worked with it to create a freewheeling situation.  Some spray brake cleaner applied judiciously and minor adjustments took up an hour of prime fishing time, but by 6 am we had all the gear in the water again.  Another lesson learned…

 

Whale Bay has a couple of really long arms at the head of the bay that extend several miles.  We worked some terrain features out toward the main mouth of the bay with a few other boats, and picked up several nice kings for starters.  I have realized I really don’t know very much at all about king fishing – coho trolling has been our main experience the last few years, and it is quite a different technique.  We have tried to pick up as much wisdom from any source we can, and it was really rewarding when some of the tips and techniques began to pay off.  After a long day, we headed back to the anchorage, happy with our little successes.   The next morning the wind had shifted, making our previous site a bit bumpy for comfort.  The fact that no other boats were to be seen in the area helped us make the choice to explore a bit deeper into the protected waters of one of the arms.  The water is really deep in theses great cuts, and to fish at 20-25 fathoms we were within 40 feet of the shore much of the time.  We picked up a number of coho as the day went on, and an occasional king.  Perfectly calm water and stupendous scenery made the slow pace be just fine.  A couple of times I would hear an increasing roar, and look up to find a thundering waterfall from several thousand feet above – a couple of spots you could see all the way the the deep blue pocket of glacial ice high on the mountain where it began.  One waterfall had carved a cave through the rock in a shape that looked like a Mickey Mouse silhouette – this is what we had in mind when we first envisioned owning a troller. 

Another night back at the basin, only this time a huge luxury yacht registered in North Carolina was our neighbor, along with a couple of other fishermen.  Lots of dollars just to drive around – at least we justify ours with catching some fish!

If you want to see a video of this spot, check out this Youtube link -- Whale Bay trolling

Third day was still bumpy with seas outside building – we began to worry about a tender showing up, as we don’t like to keep the fish in our hold more than 3 days if we can; we could go a week, but the quality and appearance go downhill, and prices with it.  If Eyak ( Sitka Sound Seafood’s tender) doesn’t show up tonight, we will try to head north in the morning if it isn’t too snotty for the hour and a half run off Necker Bay.  Fishing the inside corner we found a sweet spot where a point of land ran out shallow, and every time we went over it, we picked up a king or two.  We circled there for several hours, slowly adding to our catch, then the day was done.  We heard a broken transmission from Eyak, working their way up the coast, but they won’t be here till late Thursday, so we will run in the morning.

We set out early, to get a jump on the predicted westerly – seas were 7 feet, with wind chop, which is just plain rough and tiring in our little boat.  We spotted a couple of boats heading south, so didn’t feel quite so alone out on the rough part.  With tide, swell, and wind chop, it seemed like we got tossed every way possible – no way to get into a comfortable rhythm.  Not scary, just uncomfortable.  Finally, we made Walker Channel and saw 4 or 5 boats in a little drag in the lee of the northwest shore, so we set some gear out and fell in line to see what was happening.  We picked up a few coho, and decided it wasn’t worth the effort for them while kings were still open.  We headed straight on in to Sitka, got unloaded, re-iced, and slept soundly tied to our Sealing Cove slip dock. 

Next morning, we headed for Biorka where we had seen a number of trollers working.  First line in, and it barely hit depth and we caught a nice king.  We worked the area the rest of the day, but nothing great – a few here and there, and some small coho.  We eavesdropped on a couple of the other guys that were heading back in, and my ego got squashed -- “we picked up 180 kings yesterday out deep”, or “Bob got 125 in his favorite spot..”  -- even with the fisherman’s truth discount, some people caught a LOT more than we did.  Readjust and study some more for next year.

 

The problem for us beginners, the summer opening is so short we don’t have time to experiment much.  Next year we should come and fish the king hatchery openings with the intent of learning a bit more about them.  I want to target kings only; coho is a tough way to go when you have to chase the schools, and spend most of your time offshore to be really into them.  We’ve proven we can do that, but this king thing has me intrigued – a challenge, if you will.  More money in them, too.  Average king was $65 dollars to us – coho is about $7.50 each.

With king season ended on Saturday midnight, we came in with our catch, got a shower, and got on the list to unload.  It wasn’t until Sunday afternoon that we made it to SSS – everybody must unload all fish caught in the king opener before they can fish again for coho, so it was quite a traffic jam.  Just get on the list and wait.

We sat out a blow thru Wednesday, as did most of the Sitka fleet.  Harbor was full as people regrouped and enjoyed not getting beat up.  We headed out offshore Biorka with about 40 other trollers – coho were definitely there.  120 in a day, and we even quit early around 5pm.  Up and out the next day for a repeat – just plain fun fishing, with a good delivery load. 

We stayed out till Saturday, and dragged gear in the water on the way back, scoring some really nice big fish in an unexpected location on the way.  Just got tied up to the dock, heard the plane land, and Em texted us they had made it.  We met them at the airport with blood splattered clothing, still swaying from getting back to solid ground.  They got their crew licenses at Murrays while I brought the boat over, picked them up, and within an hour of landing they were helping me unload fish at the cannery.  Welcome to the other world, kids!  And thus began the next phase of our adventure, which culminates in us being tied to the dock, looking at the grid… check out why on the next post!

Fish on!

Summer 2013 - June

Fortune cookie wisdom from Kenny’s Wok,Sitka

Tonight Sitka is living up to it’s reputation for rainfall.  It’s 54 degrees and has been pouring a since Sunday, with the local populace suitably clad in rain gear and ExtraTuffs, while the cruise ship tourists waddle about town with their Eddie Bauer expedition rain suits and cameras.  The forecast just changed from SE winds at 20 knots with 6 foot seas to NW 25 with 10 foot seas for tomorrow, so we are snuggled into our berth at Sealing Cove, getting ready to go back after some cohos.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It wasn’t always this way – I came here the first week of June, and this is the first steady rainy weather we’ve had.  June was gorgeous; actually a hot 71degrees once -  shorts and tanktops on the locals, but the cruise ship tourists still were looking like they had just summitted Everest in their two thousand dollar coordinated outfits.

I spent about half my time in June programming to finish a project back home, and the other half doing projects on the boat.  Seems like there is always something that could just be better.  This year, I pulled the old Dickenson Bristol out, replaced the firebrick and cement inside, buffed it up, and put in an forced air combustion assist fan.  What a filthy project!  It burns diesel just like the engine, so the soot inside is oily and sticks instantly to everything.  One spot turns into a huge smear as soon as you touch it, so I was glad Lovie was still in Montana until I could clean the mess up.  New stovepipe and there you go, good as new.   They are a bear to get adjusted just right, and I’m still tweaking with it even this evening.  Overall, it was a worthwhile project.

Based on a couple of light-deprived episodes in the past, I added a new LED floodlight mounted on the A-frame.  We haven’t had to use it yet, and really don’t want to, but nice to have it there.

Inside, I replaced all the cabin lights with LEDs to save  battery drain when not running the engine, and they work really well.  I will be adding several more in spots that seem always dark, like the engine area, the hold, and the forward storage compartment in the bow.

I put in a cell phone antenna and signal booster to give us a little more range on the cell phone – I can’t tell if it really helps a lot or not, so the jury is still out on that effort.

While adding the lights, I got disgusted with the old decrepit switch panel and replaced it with a couple of nice banks of switches by Blue Sea. They are fused and easy to operate and make me feel so much better.  About three hundred dollars better, to be exact, but better nonetheless.

 

Our Avon inflatable that was also our life raft suffered badly last year on the barnacles at Samsing Cove.  I tried some expensive TufCoat restoration paint on the bottom, and it will probably work, but my patience and trust level were way down.  It sits in the storage unit awaiting it's fate;  I sprung for a new Mercury inflatable dinghy that is a little smaller, but NEW and stays inflated!  That is now our shore dinghy, and I made the investment we needed into a new Elliot 4 man liferaft, a real survival craft.  It stores in a flat fiberglass canister on the bait shed, and has a hydrostatic release so that it will deploy and float free if you sink, or so the theory goes.  You can also launch it manually if you need, so we feel a little more prepared than we were.

 

A new rearview mirror and TADA! a PortaPotty for the head!  No more nighttime trying to hit a coffee can and over the side dumping, but you can now get bladder relief in your PJs in relative style, just like in a real house!  Of course, it eventually needs dumped, but the  jury is definitely in on this one, and it is favorable.

The fishing this year has been good for most folks.  There was a lot of talk about the success early on in the spring troll openings, and when I got here in June there were daily reports of people having some nice little catches on spring kings.  Tragedy also struck early on – up at Homeshore in Icy Strait, a thunderstorm swept through and caught the chum fishermen by surprise; a local guy had his deckhand from Oregon wash overboard in the night and he hasn’t been found.  Another local man was working with his partner getting their troller ready to go, and he fell, striking his head.  He seemed ok for a while, left the boat with his mother, and a couple of hours later collapsed in a coma from a swelling brain injury.  Not sure what his status is now, but he was flown to Seattle, and last I heard was on the slow road back.  Nasty business.

We decided to really focus on learning how to fish kings this opener, so I only tied up king gear for use on July 1- July 6.  Since our running buddies were still in the middle of some big welding projects and neither have made it out yet this year, we got brave and set our sights on going down to Whale Bay for the opener.  It is about 50 miles south, halfway down to the tip of Baranoff Island at Cape Omnay.  We have wanted to go there for a couple of years after talking to a couple from Meyers Chuck near Ketchikan, and it all seemed to work out.

We headed out on Saturday evening on as still a water as you can imagine – ran south thru Dorothy Narrows into Windy Bay, and spent the night tied to the mooring buoy way back in Seven Fathom Bay.  There is a Forest Service cabin there, and it looks like a neat place to spend a day or two.  Sunday morning we pointed South, down thru First and Second Narrows and into Walker Channel.     From there, we had to cover about 12 miles offshore past Necker Bay, to get to North Cape, the entrance to Whale Bay.  That open water stretch takes us about an hour and a quarter in good weather, which it was.  We did not even have to put our stabilizers in the water, which lets us go about a knot and a half per hour faster.  Glassy smooth is nice.

After the smooth open stretch, we were rewarded with the stunning view of our destination.  A little poking around, and we found a wonderful place to anchor in Kristoi Basin.  A couple of other boats found their way in, and we spent a relaxing Sunday afternoon anchored up, checking things over, and enjoying the wonderful weather.

How did it go from there?  Well, I guess you’ll have to read the next post, won’t you?

Here’s how it started, anyway.

Fish On!