23 June, 2011
A little over three weeks ago I shrugged up from a naplike stint on a bank of vinyl gate seats in the Anchorage airport to go wash up for my flight into Kodiak, Alaska. I've found that most states of exhaustion can be relatively and at least momentarily shaken off with a doze, maybe a bite to eat, and a solid scrubbing of the teeth, face, and hair. If you are male, and have the opportunity to shave, this also seems to help. I remember the staff psychiatrist at a small university I attended for a while who advised the students to do things like look in the mirror every day and say This is a sharp looking guy! I like this guy! or walk around the school self-talking, What a great place! I'm really glad to be at this place. He also told us that brushing one's teeth, whether or not you've eaten recently, is an effective way to enhance one's mental state.
So while I can't say that I hit the tarmac of the Kodiak airport full of energy, at least I showed up at my job with a nice little hygienically sound endorphin boost to get me through the last puddle jump of a 24-hour travel day.
What job? Well, turns out I managed to land a spot on a commercial salmon fishing boat for the summer. I've decided to fire up this old blog so I have somewhere to share stories with folks back home. It also doubles nicely as an open-access locale wherin to dump info, pics, and digressive narration for my fellow crew members and myself to remember.
Back to the arrival though...I especially appreciated that little wake-me-up after deplaning, driving the ten or so minutes into Kodiak, and throwing my stuff onboard what was to become my and my crewmates' project for the next two plus weeks: F/V La Mer. A 48 foot steel-hulled trawler outfitted for seining, the La Mer (yes, the "the" is redundant) draws about 8 feet of water, is blue with a grey aluminum tophouse and, as I was reflecting the other day, bears a remarkable resemblance to her skipper: Bob Bowser.
Bob himself led me to start comparing his project and possessions to his person. Bob is 6' 2" and about 370 pounds. Discussing the galley (read: kitchen, dining, and sometime sleeping area) that had been completely taken apart and not yet put back together, Bob mentioned that he might have gone a little overboard when building the supports for the old galley dining table, but that he liked to make things bulky and strong. I already knew Bob worked in his offseason as a machinist and blacksmith, making it an easy stretch to imagine him as some jolly Phoenix-Hephaestus mashup, emerging every Spring from the fires of who knows what subterranean forge to exchange his leather apron and drill press for Carhart overalls and Cabella's rain jacket, shake hands with Neptune, and chase the Chinook down the Aleutians with his great net of steel.
Of course Bob himself, an excellent storyteller, tends to eschew such overblown descriptions. And of course we tow our nylon-webbed net around Kodiak Island—far east of the Aleutians—and don't intentionally fish for Chinook. Still, the 40 lb. steel triangle and crossbar lying at the end of our float (one of the old table supports) speaks of a preference and a man that, if not a demi-god, is at least larger than what some of us call normal life.
More about Bob later. And believe me, there is plenty. However, I better get around to some snapshots of the last three weeks before we get to wherever the hell the boat is currently taking us (because, as is typical in Bobworld, we have no idea) and start catching fish.
So, to backtrack again, my rather long day of airline travel began in Augusta at 11am EST, May 31st. After Charlotte, Phoenix, and Anchorage, I got to Kodiak at 7:45am Alaska time (just about 12 noon EST) June 1. Bob was waiting in his midsize Dodge pickup. I threw my single carryon and bookbag in the bed, and we drove to town. I at least three and a half hours talking with Bob on the phone to prep myself and my expectations for the trip. While I knew there was some carpentry work waiting for me and the other crew, I still held out some kind of hope that the boat would be in better shape than we found it.
Bob moors his boat bow first in the slip he has leased from the harbor for more than 15 years. From the float, you approach the La Mer on her port side (left, if you're facing the front or bow of the boat). Since she's a fishing vessel (f/v) fitted for seining, the galley and wheelhouse are forward, up towards the bow and foc'sole. This creates a large open stern deck from which you can easily lay out and draw in your net while underway. Additionally, this give you space for a large belowdecks fish hold midship (the fish hold on the La Mer can hold about 20,000 lbs of fish). Of course none of that was important to explain to a crew that didn't even have a place to eat, so we'll get to it later.
In the meantime, when I got there, the backdeck was full of work litter: some rickety saw horses, a couple power tools, sheets of plywood, 2x4s, totes, extension cords, rigging lines, boxes... As I stepped inside, what still remained of the galley was disheartening to anyone hoping to go fishing at...well, almost any point: on the starboard, the old diesel stove, single counter, and sink were piled with last years sauces, seasonings and dishes—in addition to assorted tools and a healthy coating of dirt, grease and sawdust. On the port side was Bob's old bunk, now a funky memory foam mattress piled with all manner of beanbag cushion, pillow, man-funk smelling sheet, junkbox, and—of course—the odd tool. As I mentioned, I was instructed to toss my stuff into the forecastle or foc'sole (here a lot of people pronounce it fox-ole). Of the three bunks, only one wasn't piled with boxes of hydraulic parts, small appliances, books, and tools. In contrast to my 21 years of experience in the Karin Phillips Cleaning Brigade, I could see that—as I expected—most guys that had gone before me here weren't exactly preoccupied with neatness.
After breakfast at a local diner, I started working on Bob to figure out what the hell we were going to make out of the cluster-chuck that was our living and dining area. It took a few stories and digressions, but I think on that first day we got a floor in on top of the angle iron frame someone had constructed, and started brainstorming the benches and table.
The next night Paul Wall (not actually his last name) showed up, followed within a few hours by Big John (slightly smaller since he stopped playing D-1 football and cut his calories). We all went to El Chicano for some mid-level tex-mex and high-level oogling (the two most attractive girls any of us have seen in Kodiak both work there). By the next morning, we were working full bore to get the boat ready for the season. As the crew of the Sisiutul sat patching their net in the slip next to us, prepping to leave port in mere days, we were staring at two plus weeks of work before we would even fire our engine (let alone begin to rig fishing tackle).
This post is getting almost as long as the summer days here... Of course, even that attempt to finish up leads to another digression: we're two days past the solstice now and the sun barely sets before peeking back over the horizon ("dark" is fairly unknown, outside of the cave that is our sleeping quarters). Between this overabundance of daylight, Paul and John's overweening desire to start fishing, and our collectively strong work ethic (and a healthy supply of adderall), we spent these first weeks extending Dolly's workday past 11pm most nights. It's a strange feeling to drive about looking for an open restaurant at midnight with dusk still settling, briefly, in.
So to make a long story of long hours short...er, here is a list of some of the projects we've undertaken (organized with loose attention to chronology and project type—some of the carpentry and skiff projects were done by, or with the assistance of, Bob's friend and former crew member, Rick). More, and plausibly more interesting, stories to follow:
Carpentry & Such:
Installed plywood galley floor
Built and installed fore and aft galley benches and backs, and starboard box seat
Scrubbed and organized kitchen
Cleared out foc'sole/bunks (moved and stored shit, vacuumed, put in new mattresses...found 8 bucks loose change for beer fund...)
Cut storage hatches in galley floor and benches
John ordered into foc'sole to organize wrenches and sockets
Cleaned out old galley bunk (topside)
Attempt to fix stereo system
Tacked up foc'sole entryway carpeting
Built boot bench
Installed assist water pump for toilet
Cleaned and zipped hynautic and hydraulic hoses
Rewired main switch panel (running lights, new bilge pump alarm, etc)
Installed new/rebuilt main throttle controls
Rewired foc'sole bunklights and fans
John ordered back to the engine room and wrenches
Rebuilt pots n' pans drawer
Installed new outlets and light switch
Took boxes of boat junk to warehouse
Covered bench faces, etc w/formica
Installed linoleum flooring in galley
Sanded rust off stove
Cleaned rust and sawdust off kitchen counters and dishes
Connected wiring to previously installed outlets to control panel
Built roll-proof shelf for coffee-maker
Re-rebuilt angry-John-proof pots n' pans drawer
Installed trim on all new carpentry
Cleaned and sorted kitchen area again
Took more shit out to warehouse
Replaced hydraulic deck hoses
Replaced more hydraulic deck hoses
Installed macerator pump (i.e. shit and toilet paper chewer) in head (i.e. toilet)
Installed mini-fridge under kitchen counter
Replaced fuel pump in boat
Brought boxes of needed boat junk back from warehouse
Refit topside bunk with pillows and sheet
Foil-wrapped stove exhaust
Replaced vhf antenna on mast
Moved control and exterior light switches from galley to tophouse
Installed new mast lights
Cleaned and zip-tied wires to mast lights
Washed & cleaned engine room
Removed 200 lb boom winch (to drop off for rebuild @ shop)
Replaced rebuilt boom winch and lines
In Dry Dock
Pressure washed and grinded entire boat below water line
Primed and painted boat bottom
Changed Prop
Installed zinc plates (corrosion prevention)
Splash-zoned all potential net snagging spots on boat bottom
Heated and hammered dented edge of keel
Skiff
Replaced busted starter
Almost blew up skiff (meanwhile frying new starter)
Replaced fuel filter
Installed functional new starter
Skiff almost blew up again on first trip around the bay leading to...
Replaced skiff impeller
Installed new kill switch, horn, and temperature and oil gauges
Fixed bilge pump
Skipper accidentally fried new horn, and temperature and oil gauges
Replaced main exhaust hose
Restored jet bucket to functionality
Replaced busted side bumpers, and inflated all side bumpers
Miscellaneous
Used grinders and chisels to break welds on 2800 lbs of steel bars (ballast) in fish hold
Removed steel ballast using cannery crane and forklift attachment
Cut and fit skewed table top (to match unplump, non-squared seating area)
Welded nuts to table mount; installed pedestal for tabletop
Replaced pump in fish hold
Installed new freezer on tophouse
Cut and installed wet/dry runner for galley and grip runner for table
Picked up net from cannery
Sewed up holes in net and lead line
Ran new purse line
Fabricated new pelican/tow line for net
Coast Guard Dog & Pony Show
Prepped survival suits
Rewelded and refit inflatable life raft release cage
Partially replaced EPIRP satellite system
Replaced entire EPIRP satellite system again (during coastie inspection)
A brief asterisk: as I'm spending my summer with a bunch of sailors, the humor and language are apt to flow over into my typespeak. Just sayin...
Asterisk number two: I'll be uploading these things as I can whenever we pull into town and I can't make it out to the library. This was written about ten days ago. Since then, we've had more or less seven days of fishing—some of it very good—and are starting to see some return on our work. It's kicking our asses, and John and I sleep with our hands crimped over our chests like meningitis sufferers (coiling the net 7-10 times a day leaves most greenhorns with at least temporary tendinitis), but morale is high, we're making money, and we wake up every morning to vast Alaskan blue and green land- and seascapes. We're back in port for two days now to fix a skiff seal and better repair our net where a whale busted through it...
See, I told you there would be more interesting stories.
