Radio Drama

Sorry about 2 posts in 2 days, but here goes!

I sat in harbor this morning waiting for the tide to turn and pondered the upcoming week.  Much rides on our ability to select the right location to fish during the main King opener at 12:01am, July 1.  Fish and Game predicts a 6-10 day opener, but it could be more or less, depending upon the amount of fish caught.  

I had the charts out, trying to divine some inspiration about the best place to fish, with places to run in bad weather and possible anchorages for the night.  My morale is at an all-time low for some reason – gray, windy, endless rainy weather and slow fishing, as well as an empty bank account with bills coming has depleted my normal reserves of optimism.  I am having doubts about my ability to perform in the crunch – I keep getting encouragement from various sources, but it really boils down to me, and sometimes that’s brutally depressing!  

It’s Saturday, and the sport and charter boys are out in force.  I heard them all leaving the harbor at 6 this morning – after a dry run fishing till 9pm last night, I had no desire to leave that early.  Only a couple of other trollers seemed hungry enough to venture out today, so I sat and pondered.  And pondered.  Weird word, ponder. 

As I did so, I had the VHF on channel 16, which we monitor all the time as it is the primary contact channel.  Suddenly a male voice,  high pitched with stress, was yelling “Mayday! Mayday! 17 foot skiff somewhere north of Hanus Point, taking on water!”  Several vessels in the area answered, and the fragments of spotty radio transmission painted the picture – a skiff, with 2 people on board, had engine trouble and was getting slopped around in the seas, taking on lots of water.  They were unable to transmit GPS coordinates,  and had only a vague idea of their true location.  After a couple of minutes, the transmissions ceased.

The radio came alive with boats heading for the general area – from the various descriptions floating around, it was about a 3 square mile area that they could be in.  I sat and listened to the conversations – guys searching north, south, in the bays, and no sightings, no transmissions.  The wind and rain in my rigging heightened the sense of urgency – 10 minutes, 20 minutes, 1 hour, and nothing.  It was easy to picture the worst – no power, wind pushing water over the stern, radio and electronics swamped, low visibility conditions – were they able to bail?  Did it sink?  Was the engine going again with just their radio dead?  The Coast Guard helicopter arrived at the approximate coordinates and acted as communication coordinator between the searching boats.  A box search was implemented, with Peisar Island as the center.  No word.

After about an hour, a charter boat called in, somewhat north of the anticipated area.  They had found the skiff, and made contact.  The skiff had lost power, swamped, drowned all the electronics so no contact could be made, but had stayed afloat.  They were able to sort out the engine problem and get started again, and were running back toward home and calmer water.  The charter boat let them talk to the Coast Guard helo, and they confirmed their intention to head for home.  The State Trooper boat from Sitka made contact and began the escort home.  I just heard the troopers call in that the skiff was safely entering Sealing Cove, where I live, so I ran out and snapped the picture of the “alleged” fishermen and their skiff as they cruised by.     All’s well that ends well, but somehow the whole incident just added another twist in my gut.  I wish my imagination wasn’t so active.  And I really don’t like the singing of the wind in the rigging right now.

Another day on the waterfront…