Learning Curves

Well, it’s been a whirlwind of learning and experiencing, but the riches seem to be more elusive than ever! I really don’t know where to begin….
Keith arrived on April 1, and we began gearing up. A few thousand dollars later, we had enough equipment and gear to make a trial run. We headed up from Sitka to Halibut Point Marine, about a 20 minute trip, to top off the fuel tanks. 80 gallons later, we headed out into the more protected area of Sitka Sound to try out the operation of actually fishing. We didn’t expect to catch anything, so weren’t disappointed when there was no activity. We brought her back to the harbor with a nice swell abeam, and got to see how the True North rode the roller coaster. She’s a smaller boat, but takes weather like a champion.

Ready for a longer venture, we headed up to Salisbury Sound, about a 30 mile trip. At 6 knots, that takes about 5 hours. The passage up there is like a travel brochure – grand mountains, calm water, the occasional boat passing. The Sound itself was nice to fish. A little bit of choppy water with the wind blowing, then some 6 foot seas near the ocean entrance. We caught the first of what we hope to be many – a 29.4 (dressed weight) king salmon. At over 7 bucks a pound, it was worth keeping! Unfortunately, it was the only one the trip produced. Two days there, one fish. Not so hot. The maniac in the picture is dressed for the occasion in the hat provided at the farewell dinner his friends at Semitool gave… the Whackem bat, complete with customized logos, was a bit soft, but the gift was appreciated! There have been a few lonely days when I pressed the button just to hear the crowd roar, and it always brings a smile! Seriously.

Willie the wonder dog – 36 hours before he went to the bathroom. He has some sort of moral code not to go on the boat, so I finally plopped him in the Zodiac raft when we anchored the second night and rowed him to shore. No trouble doing his business there!
It was a bit of a rodeo with him all excited and trying to circle the inside of a 6 foot boat, me kneeling in the bow with a paddle, and trying to get back to the fishing boat!

Once we were confident that things were going to work mechanically as well as could be expected ( did I mention I’m a Nervous Nelly about all that can go wrong?) , we headed out with the big boys to Cape Edgecumbe and the Winter Line. The line is a boundary set by Fish and Game, beyond which it is illegal to fish. Google Earth it – from the Cape Edgecumbe light to the southernmost tip of Woodward Point on Biorka Island. It doesn’t look far, but it takes us a little over 3 hours to get out near enough to fish. The weather can get brutal very quickly – we only have had 2 days where the seas were under 8 feet, with 15 foot swells being very common. Go look at your house, and figure out how high that is – when it’s not blowing, it’s pretty neat. When the wind is howling and the chop is short, it is downright abusive. Want an ab workout? Go to sea!

We’ve fished the cape now for a couple of weeks, and keep hearing the same refrain from the other fisherman – where are all the fish? Judging from the fact that the price keeps going up and we keep catching very few, I suspect that it wouldn’t be considered red hot fishing right now. Hope we survive the cash flow problem until it gets better!

Todd and Emery came for a few days and brightened up the mix. They were loaned some electro-shock wrist bands by the Dennison’s for reducing the sea-sickness rate. The first day we took them to the Cape, we forgot the wrist bands, and found we had no Dramamine on board. Keith and I are both lucky enough to not suffer from seasickness in the least, so we sort of forgot to prepare for the less fortunate. The swells were big rollers, and not choppy, so everyone was deceived into thinking things would go well. Unfortunately, the motion when we slowed down to fish began to cause bad thoughts in Todd and then Em began to act about the same. The photo is poor Todd in the fetal position that he used to escape with, between trips to the rail to chum for fish. After a long day for them at the Cape, and 1 fish only, we decided to return to Sitka for the night. We had a hydraulic hose that was failing, and the pulse pump feed for the cook/heat stove died, so it made sense. One fish, about 90 bucks; hose – 30, pump – 100. Who’s winning here, anyway??

The following day, with electro-shock therapy on his wrist, and loaded with Dramamine, Todd headed back to sea. Em didn’t like the shocker, so she just ate the pills and toughed it out. For those who need a testimonial about the wrist gadgets, Todd’s your man. It worked—we caught another fish, then anchored for a more or less comfortable night behind St. Lazaria Island. About 40 other fishermen were working the Cape, and the anchorage was full of all sorts of craft for the evening. We caught several more fish on Saturday, and came home on a beautifully glassy sea that evening.

I sat in the door off my boat Monday morning at 6 AM, and listened to the guns, screamers, and other bird bombs go off at the airport, about a quarter of a mile from the harbor. The plane lifted off perfectly into the clear morning air, banked over Mt. Edgecumbe, and left me really, really lonely. Love my family….

Later on Monday, we had our courtesy Coast Guard inspection that gives a person an idea of whether they comply with all the rules and regulations. I had a couple of items to add to the boat, plus an emergency drill class I need to take, and otherwise things went well. We headed off to the Cape again to fish – seas were bigger, ugly, and we were one of only 6 boats out there for the day. We had the dubious distinction of being the very last boat to leave the line Monday night – Tuesday was equally rough, and devoid of fish.
After a strategic reassessment, we decided that Wednesday we would leave Sitka and head inside Chatham Strait and work our way to Petersburg to try our luck.

We're Off!

Tales of the True North… sounds pretty much like a novel of some sort, doesn’t it?!  The reality is, it seems much that way in real life.  Here’s the story to date –

After a month of working from stem to stern on the boat, learning the systems, finding the places that needed repairing, and pouring money into the hole that a boat makes in the water, we finally have gone out for 2 days.  Keith, my fishing tutor, arrived last Thursday morning at 2 AM on the ferry from Petersburg, and we began the process of getting geared up for fishing.  We reviewed all the rigging and gear together, and went to the store to contribute yet more of the dwindling funds to the local economy.  One small shopping basket (the hand-held kind!) was over 1200 bucks, and that just got us enough stuff to make the basic sets.  This is for a bunch of odd-colored, shiny pieces of metal, gooey, bizarre-colored glow in the dark blobs of plastic with eyes, assorted hooks, lines, crimps, snaps, and a package of herring  -- the herring were the only thing that made any sense at all to me, but then, I’m not a salmon…

I was quite nervous about the maiden run, since there are so many things that can go wrong on an older boat, and I am somewhat of a Nervous Nellie.  I woke up at 4 am on Friday, worrying.  By the time we got everything lined out and ready, it was nearly 1pm, and we fired the 353 Detroit Diesel up and pulled away from the dock.  The fourth opening of the herring roe fishery opened at one just to the south of the harbor, so we went up the channel to the north to stay clear.  It was quite a zoo listening to the seiners on their final chance to get rich on herring – tempers were up, with lots of threats back and forth as they set their nets alongside each other, each jockeying for the biggest amount of fish.  Lawsuits and all sorts of legal actions will come from this one, with a couple of boats colliding, charges of deliberate ramming, and all sorts of lesser evils occurring. 

We got clear of the harbors with our trolling poles up, and the boat began to roll in the swell.  We have 35 foot aluminum poles, along with a 25 foot aluminum mast sticking straight up, so the boat rolls a bit with them straight up.  Once we lowered them to their 45 degree position, the roll slowed a bit.  When we put the stabilizers in the water, it was solid as a rock.  Stabilizers are 2 foot wide pieces of wood with a lead weight, that hang from a chain located about midway out the pole.  They ride 20 feet or so down into the water, and provide a resistance to the rolling motion of the boat.  Willie, the Labrador, was a bit disconcerted by the motion of the boat.  He stayed out on deck, looking rather forlorn for most of the trip!  We made it up to the fuel dock at Halibut Point, about 45 minutes after leaving and put 80 gallons in the tanks.  We then headed around some of the inside islands, and put the fishing gear in the water.  It takes about an hour to get it all out, and then we trolled for a couple of hours, just checking things out.  No fish, but we learned a lot about the boat’s behavior.   

By the time we decided to come home, we realized we didn’t have a great deal of margin on the daylight factor, which is not real smart on the first run of a boat!  We came back in thru the middle part of the Sound, and got some of the larger swells abeam.  The little boat just purred along, with a great ride.  I slept better that night!

On Saturday, we decided to head out toward Cape Edgecumbe, where the good fishing is.  We left the dock around 8 am, and went over to Sitka Sound Seafoods, one of the main fish processing facilities here, and had about 1000 pounds of ice pumped into our fish hold.  We figured it would give us a little more ballast, as well as preserve any fish that we might catch.  There was a breeze blowing, and I had to make to passes at tying up to the pilings before I got it.  Being the new kid in town, I was pretty self-conscious about it, but made it happen, and we got our ice. We jockeyed our way out of the main harbor around little hand trollers, big tenders, big herring seiners, the huge Fish and Game boat (Kestrel), as well as a float plane taxiing down the channel to take off.  Once we cleared the congestion, the poles came down with the stabilizers, and we headed southwest toward the Sound.   Waves were 4-6 feet as we rounded the end of the runway for the airport on Japonski Island, and we headed straight into them to get out to a fishing area.  About an hour later, we were clear of Surf Rock, looking back at the impressive power of the water breaking over the rocks, so we began putting gear in the water.  As time wore on, the waves grew, as did the breeze.  We passed one, then two, then three bigger trollers heading the opposite direction, back to the harbors.   

Once the gear was all set, Keith came in to warm up.  We ran this way for about an hour, with the waves steadily growing, as well as the choppy surface generated by the wind.  Forecast was for 20 knot winds with seas 4-6 feet.  We began encountering steady 10 foot seas with gusts to 30 or so.  As time went by, more trollers passed, all with gear onboard and heading for home.  When the seas began to hit 15 feet occasionally, and still no sign of fish, we decided to join the crowd and head for home.  We turned with the seas and wind coming over our starboard stern, and Keith was once again banished to the trolling pit to pull gear aboard.  I tried to keep a steady course, which was a bit difficult.  The sound of waves breaking behind the boat, and gaining on us was not uncommon.  We had the deck washed off nicely by a couple that broke on the side, but by and large, the little vessel handled like a dream!  The engine ran well, the equipment worked, and the ride was nice.  It’s been a lot of years since I looked out the back door of a pilot house and saw 15 feet of windswept water bearing down on me!  We made it back with no further ado, and even got checked out by an Alaskan State Trooper when we got docked.  Nice young man, very helpful.  Today is our day off – tomorrow we hope to head North up the inside channel and fish for a couple of days before Em and Todd arrive on Wednesday.  And that’s the beginning….!