September 24, 2008

Nomad Between Boats

I am in Dutch Harbor now. The boat road in under the cover of night, and we docked at about 6:00 this morning. And since then I have been hurrying up and waiting in this town. An agent from my company picked me up from my boat and broke my heart telling me that I had a boat to catch. I was getting on a long liner boat. Which means another 20-30 straight days out at sea. But first I had to meet with a NMFS officer to make sure that I know what I'm doing. Turns out I didn't quite so much. My apprehention is warrented, but I know the boat I'm going to get on better, and know that I'll be much more prepared to do my job in this next boat.

I got onto the boat, and it turns out that they wont be able to take off today, engine trouble. They have been stuck in harbor for the last week. So they were really really upbeat. I'm walking into a hornets nest. This type of boat is the hardest when it comes to tact with the crew due to the nature of the fishing operations.

I updated the days that I was out at sea with the Pavlof by dates. I bonded with the crew and the captain, first mate and chief. I really enjoyed being stuck on that boat with those guys. If I get into trouble, and need to make some quick cash for months worth of work, I can call those guys up and go fishin'. I spent the entire last night talking politics, conspiracy theories, energy crisis, economics, travel, crabin' in Russia, aliens . . . This captain has a great radio voice and a face to go with it. He needs his own AM talk show. I don't know if I'll come across another captain like him. I've got so many fisherman stories and jokes that I can't wait to pass on as my own that I stole from this guy.

Tomorrow I will get back on my new boat. We'll take off tomorrow, or Saturday and midnight, you don't leave on a Friday its bad luck. There wont be another update until I get back from this next cruse, so I hope you enjoy my thoughts and descriptions of my time on the Pavlof. This next boat I'll be more focused on doing my duties than my tact with the crew. I doubt the same kind of relationships with the next set of cats will develop. After this boat, I'll be almost there and back to the lower 48.

- Casey

PS, the hair and beard are getting girzzly. I'm going to record some video blogs on this boat. I didn't have a place I could that on the last boat. But on this next one, I have my own bunk room.

9-23-08

9-23-08

This is my 20th day aboard the Pavlof, and it is my last. Tomorrow morning we'll be in Dutch Harbor. We are steaming in slowly to give the deck hands enough time to clean the boat, burn the trash, and get the rest they've deserved. It's crazy watching how slowly the water is passing by on the side of Pavlof as we work towards our destination of an island, 140 nautical miles to the southwest. The boats top speed is around 6-7 nots, but with all the weight of product and pots on board, its cut down to the leisurely coasting speed of 3 nots. It has been six days since the last day that I was able to do any work besides paperwork. I haven't been out on deck or done anything athletic (not counting stabilizing myself while starring down a urinal in rough seas), in that time. I feel like I have been a calf being raised in captivity in order to make veal. I have passed the time by drinking what is called a Cadillac; half coffee, half hot cocoa, and watching movies and starring out at the sea.

I hear stories all the time, every day on board of the bars in Dutch Harbor. One called the Elbowroom was in the Genus Book of World Records for the deadliest bar 5 or 10 years ago. There were more people killed due to fights at this bar in a year then in any other bar in the States. I have been told that no one has been killed in a fight there for a good amount of time, but that it is not uncommon to see a flying bar stool after a tough crab season. I'm need to check it out. I'll be the beard and curls under the WSU hat in the corner with one bourbon, one scotch, and one beer.

This has been a great first boat to be aboard. I had no problems whatsoever with the crew, minus some awkwardness. There is of course some growing tensions between some of the crew members. I supposed it would that way with anyone that you sheared this close of quarters with for 3 weeks with no real escape. All and all, I am going to miss busting chops with a couple of the crew members, and will wonder how some of them are getting along months down the road. I will look for them in Dutch come A-Season, January, (this was B-Season they just got done fishing). Now it's on to boat number two. A whole new set of obstacles and challenges with the job and people I will be forced to sleep and live amongst in close quarters. It feels like I've been out at sea for a long time, but my contract isn't even a third of the way over. 21 days down, 69 possible deployment days to go.

- Casey

9-21-08

9-21-08

It's Sunday, and either the first day of Fall or the day before. I'm not really sure. When I noticed it was the equinox when I looked at the date on the grease board in the galley, I realized I wouldn't see Fall this year. Spring is my favorite season, but the change of Summer to Fall in Spokane can be gorgeous in some parts. If I was home today, or in the next two weeks, I would probably be taking a walk through Manito Park. Feeding the remaining ducks that haven't flown South. Taking in the Oranges, Yellows, and Reds of the leafs. It's not too hot, you can stole in pants and not get over heated. Yet not too cold that a pullover will do you just find. Find a bench to call home for midday Sunday. Have a book in my lap to glance at and fumble through while I'm not people watching.

This isn't something I did a lot, maybe once a year, but the fact that I don't have to option to find an open space somewhere among trees and an end of summer breeze, to sit and be alone for awhile, makes me long for it. I haven't had anything to do on the boat now for 4 days. The fishing season I was on board to observe ended then. The boat now is in a different location fishing in a different season where an observer is not needed. Even if I did go on deck and take some samples, NMFS wouldn't use them because they don't need them. So I am stuck in limbo on the boat. It would be too costly for the boat to take me anywhere to drop me off so that I can get to Dutch Harbor and onto an other boat, so I am just a free loader wondering around until they deiced to head into port. I'm still getting paid as if I was working. I'm still accruing at sea days which is how or raises are calculated. Once I get to 95 days, my first contract is up, and I get to start spending my money. So really it's to my benefit to just sit back, watch some movies, eat some ice cream, and shoot the breeze with the captain, chief, cook, first mate, or any one that will talk to me. Easiest money I have ever made. Watching movies, hearing fisherman stories and eating cheesecake. I at least two more days of it, maybe 4 or 5. I will have been on this boat with the same crew for 3 straight weeks. I need a beer.

- Casey

9-19-08

9-19-08

As I said before, the ratio of female observers to male observers is around 60:40. Because of this, there was around 10 hours split between two days during training dedicated to sexual harassment issues. Other types of harassment issues were discussed that everyone would inevitably face as an observer, but the sexual harassment of fishermen towards female observers was the obvious issue that we all wondered about. It is a federal crime that comes with imprisonment because of the fact being on boat is different then a normal office environment. The person being harassed can't just go home to get away. Because of this, the laws are much more strict with harsher penalties then you would see on land. I was curious as to the law, but then once I understood I checked out, because it would never apply to me. I guess I could've been put on a boat with another observer that would be female, but I'm up here to make money get experience and smell the ocean. So just like the rest of the guys I didn't think what was said was going to apply to me. Little did I know, there was going to be a gay man on my boat . . . Being a patron of the Pecking North, I have no qualms about being around a gay man. Then I found out that he has been telling everyone that he thinks I'm cute which of course is awkward. I know Pyle is laughing and thinking of course that would happen to me, I would get on the only boat with a gay man, and he would think that I'm cute. I never expected this on a fishing boat in Alaska. It took me by surprise. He never made a move on me or anything of course, never really made me feel uncomfortable. Everything was fine, just a little awkward. Yet I know when I met up with all the cats that I trained with, there is a good chance that I'll be the only one that got hit on. Go figure.

- Casey

9-17-08

9-17-08

This morning we found out that the quota for the season is coming to a close. 48 hour sprint to the finish line. Once that is done, this boat is going to go on its way, I go mine, right onto another boat. There was talk that the boat was going to drop me off back in St. Paul where I was to hop right on to another boat from there for a long trip to end near the beginning of November. Now it sounds like I am going to Dutch Harbor with this boat where they'll get ready for their next trip, and I'll have some time to get to the library to get some new books, and get an internet connection so that I can catch up with what the world has been up to while I've been away. But only for a short time before I get a new assignment and boat. I really don't know what I'll be doing. It's possible that when I land it Dutch, there could be a boat waiting for me in the harbor as I show up. I could have a week to kill, that's the rub with this job, unpredictability.

Today I spent most of the day watching movies, and reading my last book. I will have gone through three books in these two and a half weeks. I haven't put time away to start and finish books like this on the main land, I wish I would have. There has been little for me to do today and last night. I can't explain why, but I haven't been able to be on deck to do my sampling. Which is fine, I do my sampling when it works out that I can, any time of the day. There have been circumstances which haven't allowed me to do it the last 35 hours or so. So I've been eating ice cream with the cook while she gives me her take on why the sky is falling in the stock market, and why its a great idea for her to throw a ton of money it to this house that she wants to buy when she gets home. I just listen, I learned within the first two days that she isn't looking for conversation as much as she is looking for someone to tell her ideas to. She doesn't want feed back. Once I stopped trying to convince her away from what I thought was a bad idea, and began smiling and nodding, she started to bring out ice cream. I figured out a pattern quickly; agree and get ice cream. This is the Pavlov I'm on.

- Casey

9-15-08

9-15-08

Today I saw the sun. For the first time since leaving Anchorage I saw the sun and it saw me. Everyone on deck instantly turned at looked at it like we all forgot what it was. The water was as calm as a lake, and everyone started taking off all but the necessary rain gear. Working in only sweats and bibs. It was first day on the boat that I was singing again to myself. I had been singing songs and dancing the whole time in Anchorage, probably to the annoyance of my roommates. I had been so busy in making sure I wasn't stepping on toes, doing my job correctly, and making sure that I stayed on the boat and out of the water, that I forgot to look around and smile for no reason.

That clear blue sky made the calm water a deep blue. It felt as if someone should be skiing behind the boat, or jumping off the stern to swim. Working under the clear blue sky and the sun I got really excited for the night. My thought was that tonight I'll get my first glimpse at the stars in the middle of the Bering. But as the night rolled in, and the sun set, a thin layer of clouds began to roll in as well. They covered the sunset and rising of the moon. I did not see one star. But, there was a full moon and it was able to find breaks within the clouds periodically and shine. Needless to say I found some time to stare at it for awhile as well. I worked until the cloud cover got too thick to see it anymore, 4 am, then took a good three hour nap before getting back out on deck to do some more sampling. Tonight wasn't the night for lazy star gazing at sea.

I got orders from my company through the Captain, that I may step right on to a long lining boat directly from this boat with no chance to get to a place to communicate in between. Right now I'm on a boat which fishes using Pots, just like the boats on the Deadliest Catch. A long lining boat stretches a line that runs along the bottom of the Sea with hook attached so many feet apart, with bait on each hook. The line can stretch for a really long distance depending on the boats capacity to store the fish it catches, and storage capacity of the equipment. These boats are notorious for being out at Sea for a tremendous amount of time at once. A good chance it will be 40 - 60 days. Straight from this boat to that one, with no chance to grab a beer, or a cot, or a newspaper on dry land. I was hoping for at least a night in Dutch Harbor to relax, meet some other observers, and go for a hike in the mountains around there. But maybe that'll be for another day. Complete isolation is what I signed up for, and that's close to what I'm receiving.

- Casey

9-13-08

9-13-08

Rough seas today for the first time. I had to stop what I was doing on deck because my scale couldn't work anymore with all of the swaying of the boat. My first glimpse of Poseidon's presences in the Bering. The first mate was telling me that all the greenhorns always want the weather to turn. It is exciting, and I must say that I was hoping for it too to happen on this trip. He told me that after about 30 minutes of it, you've gotten your fill of it and are tired of it. That was about right. after about 30 minutes of it, it just feels like a roller-coaster that you can't get off of. There were a couple of times that I got thrown from one end to the other end in the galley and wheel house. It got a little crazy, 20 foot swells, with water crashing over the bow and the starboard rail.

I found two important things that will help me with the rest of my trip in the Bering from this weather. First, I don't get see sick. I haven't had to use any of my sea sick pills. I was queazy the first day on the boat, but I think I was just really nervous, and I didn't eat all day. Once I got some food and an idea of how I was going to do my job on the deck, I calmed down and so did the butterflies. I did get a little light headed at a point during the intense swaying, but I got some air and was OK. Second, my sea legs arrived today. Life is so much easier with sea legs. I'm not running into people on deck and stumbling into walls in the living quarters. All the little things you do every day are effected by pitching and baying of the boat; Going to the bathroom, showering, pouring coffee, eating cereal, sleeping, typing on a keyboard, writing on a piece of paper, all have to be done a little different and a little more deliberately with concentration to get it done with out spilling or screwing up.

I couldn't do my work in these conditions, so I had the rest of the today and probably tomorrow to spend in the wheel house or in a book. I finished a book I started just before coming to Alaska, and took some time to go stand on the side of the boat and watch the crashing of the wake into the side of the boat. I came to a realization that I love being at sea. I love the smell and the crisp air feels quenching against my face. It reminds me of peaceful times, even with the 20 foot swells that are raging in front of me, it feels peaceful. I'm going to have to live near water. At least a short drive away from it. I'm not saying that I love life on a boat. I don't think I see myself doing this for years to come. I'm just enjoying being around water. Maybe I'll get tired of it when May comes around.

- Casey

9-11-08

9-11-08

I was standing on the side of the boat taking in the crisp mist of Bering beating against the starboard side of the boat, realizing how isolated I am on a day like today. I remember the events of today 7 years ago and will never forget where I was, the fear, and the tears I shared with those next to me. It was my first year in college in Lewiston, school had been in session for only 2 or 3 weeks. I was waiting for my 7:30 calculus class to start and the teacher was late. He came in with an announcement that there had been a bombing in NYC, and that if we had to leave to go ahead and do so. We went on with lecture with no idea of what really had happened. I had an hour break before my next class, and as my ritual, I went to the Student Union Building for breakfast. That's when I saw what had happened. I ran back to my dorm to watch for the rest of the day. The dorm all watched the scene from the downstairs TV. I remember being in a new city, a new life, surrounded by new faces and knowing that each one of us was feeling sorrow and helplessness all at the same time.

7 years later the conversation on the boat turns to conspiracy theories and peoples ideas of the hypocrisy of the Iraq war. I'm getting bombarded by quotes of Michael More movies and accounts of family members who had been to Iraq or Afghanistan. Though there is a direct connection to the events of 9-11 to our current position overseas, I didn't like the conversation of those events to be clouded by what the military is doing today. My thoughts of 9-11 don't jump to conspiracy theories, or ideas and thoughts of hatred and deception. My thoughts went directly to the families of whom this day a day of morning for a father, mother, brother, husband, wife, child who died a hero, or died an innocent bystander.

I like to spend days like this in conversation with my closest friends. Talk about life, good and bad. I'm not trying to find answers to anything in particular, but just enjoying the exchange of thoughts, fears, and emotion. I can't do that today. All of these conversations have been internal. I enjoy talking with the crew, the captain and the first mate, but conversations like that are best shared with people who know you best. Today is the first day that I really longed for a good stoop conversation about nothing in particular.

- Casey

9-9-08

9-9-08

Time is relative on the Bering. There is no reason to count days. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday have no meaning out here. Saturday and Sunday just means that there is no one in Seattle to return emails. Time is counted in hours and minutes. There is no change of day, just change of shifts. This is a 24 hour a day operation with one of the shifts changing every 6 hours. Time is also counted by pounds of fish caught. When the quota is finished, so is time on the boat. There is a count down of fish available rather than days left. The trip could be a week long, it could be a month long. The more fish this boat catches of the quota, the more money the crew makes. The time at sea = potential money made. Pounds of fish caught = money made. So therefore, time equals pounds of fish caught.

I've made friends with the most important person on the boat. The only person you do not want to piss off, The Cook. Terri is her name, she's my room mate as well. She is a couple years from retirement and has been working as a cook for fishing boats on and off for years. She is defiant and callus to those on the boat that have made her mad and treat her more like help rather than a co-worker. We've sat and had some heart to hearts in galley while everyone else is working and I'm on a break. It was the best move I didn't even know I was making. All of sudden there is ice cream waiting for me when I get done with my paper work, she wakes me up for meals if I'm sleeping in between times I have to be on deck. She is also willing to work with some of my cravings. I was in dire need of a cheeseburger for some reason. The next night guess what was on the menu. I am eating much better than I ever thought I would out at sea. Some of it has to do with me making friends with the right people, but also these crew members do eat well. 4 meals of home cooking a day. I thought I would be losing weight while I was out at sea, not with Terri making sure that I am never hungry. Oh, she made me cheesecake on my birthday too. Awesome.

- Casey

9-6-08

9-6-08

Happy Birthday. I told one of the deck hands in passing that it was my birthday come midnight. It had come up because he was saying how he was going to be out at sea on his birthday here soon. The guys on deck sang happy birthday to me during a little break on deck at midnight of the 6th. My gift to myself was a shower, shave, and brushing of my teeth. I've been so busy, I had forgotten to do these things. I am not on a set schedule, and the idea of morning, night, and a new day are all relative out here. I had some time for the first time on the boat, so I took some time to "clean" myself as much as I could. I felt like I was pampering myself.

I feel lucky that this crew is full of good hearted cats. They are still trying to figure me out a bit, and I'm seeing how professional I can keep things, while allowing parts of my personailty slip out. These guys work hard, well some do, but it is grueling work that they do with rough hours. They work a 16 on 8 off schedule. My schedule is variable. I kind of make my own schedule, but still need to make sure that the data I collect could come from any string of pots they bring on board, and could have come at anytime of the day. So I have been out on deck at all times of the day. The first couple of days, I didn't get much sleep. I spent most of my time making sure that I was doing everything right and stressing over whether or not I was sampling enough and doing what is expected of me. I'm out here on my own and haven't had any contact with my boss or NMFS, (the government agency that I am collecting the information for). So I am asked to apply the last three weeks of training as best as I can, and they are counting on my stats to determine the quota these fishermen will receive in two years time from now. I have been feeling a lot of pressure, and no reassurance to whether I'm doing an adequate job or not. So in leu of my uncertainty, I've decided to just work as hard as I can, as long as I can, so they have no platform to ask me why I could not do more.

I forget that the Bering Sea is just over the bow. Some times, especially at night, it looks like a green screen behind the deck hands. It feels like we are on a movie set that is rocking back and forth with a sea that doesn't fit our movements like an old 40's navy movie. I get taken aback by it every now when I have time on deck to sit and think about where I am. I start to miss being able to sit down and shoot the breeze with close friends over a beer. That'll be able to happen again here soon enough though. I also wonder what my new friends are thinking and how they are handling their boats. I have no contact with anyone not on the boat.

Although we spent 3 weeks of training 8 hours a day plus homework, I don't feel as though I was prepared enough hopping onto this boat. That is because they spent less than half a day on the type of boat that I am on. Everyone else got put on something easier, and less isolated. I guess I made the imprecation that I could handle it. This is the pot fishing boat that any of the new kids got. It's just like the boats on the Deadliest Catch, only older. This beauty of girl was originally built in the 40's for the navy. It was then turned into a crab boat in the 70's. The captain gave me a run down of her life story. In the 70's this girl was top of the line. She gets the job done, all be it on her own time. Because she is tough one to handle and wrangle, she allows the captain to cuss at something other than his crew from time to time.

- Casey

9-3-08

9-3-08

I called my employer, and they could not get a hold of the boat by 9 am, and told me to call again at noon to see where they were. With this news, Greg asked if Lou and I would like to go out with him to retrieve some thermometers he had in the bay of St. Paul. Lou told me that I should never turn down a chance to go in the boat with Greg, she hadn't gone yet, and was always jealous of the others that went with him. So I took her advice and went along. Cold water, windy day, and over cast, but I still loved the feeling of the crisp, quenching air that comes across your face when only in a boat. He put me to work though pulling up the anchors from the bottom of the bay in two different locations. Once we got those up, it was time for a little joy ride.

He took Lou and I around to spot where a lot of the birds he watches and counts were rousting. There were also fur seals scattered every where on the rocky beach as well. Greg, Lou and I were in a 12 foot rubber raft with a motor strapped to the back of it, slowly going through a bunch of swimming and jug handling seals who were curious as to who we were. It was crazy. The seals were swimming right next to the boat, popping up and down to give us a look, and then swimming back. Just as that one left, the next one would pop its head up and swim with us for a bit. Lou took some pictures, I forgot my camera, I hope she gets back to me with some of those pictures because it was an awesome experience.

Once I got back to the bunk house, I called my employer at noon, and they said the boat was going to be at the dock by 1:00. So packed up for the last time, like I had for the past 5 days, and got in Greg's truck as he took me to the dock to meet the vessel. I got on the boat, met some of the guys and we were off just like that. Said my good-byes to Greg, thanked him for all he had done, put a geeky smile on my face and stepped on to my home for the next two to three weeks.

"Casey, it's good to meet you. I was hoping you were a girl." First words spoken to me as I got on board. I kind of expected that, but it still made me laugh. I found my state room, put my things away, woke up my room mate the cook, and started to try and figure out what I was going to do now. It's game time.


- Casey

9-2-08

9-2-08

Today I explored St. Paul Island. There was a chance that the boat was going to pick me up today, but they stayed out at fished instead. They don't need me quite yet, I only have to be on their boat 30% of the time they are out fishing, and the season just began. So today I decided to take a solo stroll around the island to see what I could see, and take some pictures. Lou and Greg both had some research to do in the morning, so they pointed me in the direction of the local government office where I could get a permit to go see the Fur Seals. When I got there, the lady behind the counter was the same lady who sat behind me on the plane only a day before with her brand new baby, no more than 6 months old. The child had been great on the plane, and the new mother beamed with joy across her face the entire time she held her new boy. She couldn't have been older than 30, maybe only 25. This was her first born, and was coming home from taking him to see the grand parents in Anchorage. It was great to see that she was the lady that was going to allow me access to view the Seals, she had told me on the plane that if I had time before the boat was to pick me up that I should go for a walk around the island. So when I showed up at her office door, she greeted me with a smile and a cookie, told me to sit down and got out some maps. She showed me where I was allowed to go by law, and then where I could go as long as I didn't try and bum rush a seal or two. Obviously my intentions where purely inquisitive and not malicious in any way. I'm officially a biologist for gosh sakes. She pointed me in a direction and I walked.

I probably went the wrong way, because the Island is large, about 13 miles in diameter, but not much is inhabited, so there are very few land marks. None of which she had mentioned, I saw. But I continued on my walk in a direction towards water. I got to a point with a view back towards the city. This is an old town no new growth. It's sad really. 70% unemployment. There is no where to work. There are two stores, one is owned and operated by white folks not locals. No land to farm, and not many natural resources to cultivate. There is a nice russian orthodox temple in the middle of the city which looks grand from where I was standing. As I continued to walk, I noticed a darting in and out of the 3 foot tall grass that grows on both sides of the clay road way. I stopped to see what it was. A small fox was following me, about 2 feet tall and skinny. Not too scared, and curious as to why I was walking out there. I continued down the path with my little curious friend 10 to 15 feet behind me on the side of the path, just outside of the grass. This path did end up leading me to a Roukere, or mating grounds for the Fur Seals. Most of the large males had found their mates, and had left for the winter. There were still plenty lingering around the area, soaking up the rest of what St. Paul summer's had to offer, windy 45 degrees with a complete overcast. I took some pictures and headed back to the bunk house. I couldn't get too close, and my camera isn't sooted for pictures of anything more than people smiling 5 feet away.

Greg took Lou and I out for a drive around the Island at about 6 when he was done with his work. He has been working on the island of St. Paul for the last three summers for a wildlife refuge as a bird watcher of sort. He has been working for the refuge in the Aleutian Islands for a long time now, I forgot to catch the correct amount of time, and was extremely knowledgeable as a guide and a historian of all the Islands. Lou and I were soaking up his knowledge of the plant life, and the 5 other animals that live on St. Paul. I had a feeling living with Greg for the last 2 months, she had heard most of this, but she was very gracious in allowing him to fill my wonderment and curiosity of the island with his explanations.

He took us right up to another roukere of the Seals, one that Lou and been to many of times. They sat patently as I took in my fill of the Seals. Lou and Greg are the kind of people I love to be around. You don't have to be a biologist, but it helps. They have seen these seals every day for the past 2 months in Lou's case, and 6 months every year in Greg's case, yet they still look upon them and their habitat with a smile and since of pride. Pride in that they are there in this extremely remote location of the world, a place if people have heard of it it's because of a time magazine article back in the 70's about the slaughtering of the seals by the natives, and they are here to help preserve and study an area of the global most people don't know exists. We got back in the truck and drove around some more as Greg told some more good stories about the island and his travels. Then went back from some dinner.

I am extremely blessed to have run into Lou at the airport, and have her take me in as a guest to the NMFS bunk house. If not for her and Greg, I would have spent two days in a run down hotel room right next to the airport in St. Paul. I may have had TV, but I doubt it. I couldn't have asked for better company and hospitality than what Greg and Lou provided for me.

- Casey

September 3, 2008

St. Paul or Bust

These past 5 days have been days spent mustarding up courage, then waiting around, psyching myself up, then waiting around, hiking and seal watching, then waiting some more.

I'm sorry this entry is so long, but these last 5 days have been filled with great stories and blissful happenstances that I feel compelled to account for all of them.

This is a long account, you may want to grab some coffee or tea and a snack if you are going to temp to obsorb this in one sitting. This will be my last entry, I think, for a while, so I want to get it all in before I forget. I don't want to leave anything out because I have had some good experiences and met some amazing and kind people. So bare with me, but make sure to read it all, everyday in St. Paul has been great.

Day 1

I was scheduled to leave Anchorage and fly into St. Paul Island on Saturday. The plane I was on is a little pond jumper that seats 14 plus two pilots. There were two of us "Scientists" on board, and easy to spot, (the only non Aleuts on the plane). As we boarded, and I took my seat I noticed that I was the only one around taller than 6', (much like it has been every where in the AK), and as we boarded the plane I began to realize why. The celing of the plane stands at about 4 feet high. The grandma of the family on board with us two scientists started busting my balls admeditly about how great it is to be 4'9" at times like this. Joe and Ben, put another tally for reasons why its better to be short. The ball busting didn't stop. As I took my seat, she sat two seats behind me and noticed that the seat in front of me was stationed directly in between my knees. I was literally straddling the seat in front of me. She then started back in on me kicking her legs around excited about all the leg room she enjoyed. After the second light hearted and sweet attack, I took this to mean that anything is fair game. So I asked the pilot, who was squatting down in front of us at the front of the cockpit to give the pre-flight pep talk, if he had a pillow or a phone book for the sweet old elf in the back seat so she could see outside her window. Her family cracked up and I was instantly whirled into a banter of ball busting for the rest of the trip.

We landed in Billing ham which is a small town on the edge of the main body of Alaska. This town is a hunter and fishermen's dream escape. The plane that left before us for chalked full of camoflaged men and women ready to strike down either a bull mouse or carabou, as well as fishermen heading there in a hurry to catch the last of the salmon run. I got to talking to a man that I sat by in the airport on his way to Dillingham for the 9th year in a row. He was from Salt Lake City and on a mission to top the salmon he brought back from 4 years ago, I wont exaggerate the size of the fish and I forget what size he had said, but he had this childlike wonderment and excitement in his smile when he talked of the week he had waiting for him when he would arrive to his "little slice of peace and quite", as he referred to it. As we landed in Dillingham, the airport was nothing to write home about. None of the airports from now that I will be landing in will appease a mother's concerns, the setting is not far from that of an industrial park. But they had free coffee, and the people in the airport were all smiles and laughs, I've noticed that the demeanor of most of the Aleuts I run into is the same way, as long as you show them and their home respect. The plane was just stopping for gas, so we just got out and stretched the legs a bit.

I was extremely nervous on the flight into St. Paul. Butterflies were pounding on my stomach. But after the stop in Dillingham and a couple of quick, deep breaths of crisp cool air, I was back to my slightly cocky, but confident mind set of what I was about to do. I was not allowed to see the Bering Sea at all on the entire flight. Clouds loomed over it for looked to be 3 layers thick. This did not let up all the way to St. Paul Island. The pilots were young. You could tell that the comuter flight to St. Paul was not one handed out for seniority. Both pilots look of my age, no older than 27. They tried to land the plane three times with no success. They looped around one more time and were told to move on. They flew us to a tiny island south into the Aleutian Islands called Cold Bay to get instructions on what to do. I asked why Cold Bay was named so, and got a strange look from my ball busting Aleut friends. They thought it was obvious, 'cause it is cold there. Then I fought back, well aren't all of the Islands cold? What makes this one so cold to distinguish it from other cold bays? I did not get a satisfactory response. I think it's because there is no other distinguishing characteristics of the bay to name it anything else. The pilots got back to us and told us that we were heading back to Anchorage. The pilots were at the end of their alloted hours of fling time for the day, so we could not try again. So I landed in Anchorage and hailed a cab ride back to my bunk house, where I could just imagine the looks on all of my new great friends who I had said good bye to for what I thought was going to be 3 months.

The cabbie I got was a Southern man with a welcoming southern accsent. He hailed from North Lousianna, moved to Anchorage 4 years ago to get away and try something new. We got to talking about sports and the Saints and Cowboys. He told me he was huge Saints fan and knew of a high school buddy who had played for them in the 70's and early 80's. I chimed in to tell him that I knew a special teams player by the name of Steve Gleason. His eyes lit up and a smile holding bright yellow teeth came out from his whit beard. He told me that he cried when Steve blocked the punt against the Falcons on the first Monday Night football game played in New Orleans after the hurricane. I told him I was from the same town as Steve and close friends with his step sister. I told him of the day I had had and the day I will have tomorrow sitting at the airport all day on standby. As I went to pay he told me, since I've had a "whopper" of a day and that I knew Mr. Gleason, he knocked off $5 dollars from my fair. I thanked him kindly and lugged my stuff back up the flight of stairs I thought I had said good bye to. Day one of my AK adventure over. Time to get up tomorrow and try and go through all the mental prep for getting on a boat all over again.

Day 2

Day two was spent all day at the airport from 6 am until I couldn't get on the flight to St. Paul due to over booking at noon. Luckily the same family was in the airport from the flight yesterday trying again. They had been trying to get to St. Paul for one more day than I had, so they had priority on this flight. There was celebration going on in St. Paul to celebrate 25 years of independence from our Federal Government. This island exists due to the Fur Seal trade. The people who live here are decedents of Russian kidnapped natives put here to kill and prepare fur seals for trade and export. This lucrative trade was a large driving force for the purchase of Alaska. 25 years ago, the Government finally left and allowed the island to set up their own government for the town. So this was going to be the first large scale celebration the island has put together. So the family was really anxious to get home, for there was going to be a dance that night and the ball busting grandma told me that she excited to see the community together in celebration. I spent awhile talking with them, they had made sandwiches this time for the long wait and they invited me to partake. The grandma said she made me a balogna one for me this morning, 'cause I was full of it. So I asked her if hers was full of spit and nails then, she laughed and gave me a hug. I love that old lady, she wouldn't tell me her name 'cause she said everyone called her grandma and that's what I was to call her. I didn't get on the plane this day, but all of friends did so I was happy. I learned that they had landed and made it to the dance. I went home to the bunk house for one more night to wake up and head to the airport early the next morning to get on standby.

Day 3

Monday morning started escorting Mark, one of my newly graduated observers of AOI, to the airport and showing him the way since I have all the experience navigating around the terminal. He flew out on time at 7am to Dutch Harbor, and I sat around playing the waiting game and napping in my usual spot. My friends had all got on the plane the day before, so there were no bolngana sandwiches to be had this day. The flight got delayed from noon due to weather, and we would hear a report a 2. 2:00 came and went. 2:30 they told us the plane was there and we would begin boarding at 3:00, still no word on me though. This was a game I had to play in order to show my boss that I was trying to get to St. Paul, the airline had told me yesterday and that morning that it would be hard to get me out. But 3:00 came, and they called my name and I was off to St. Paul to get on my crab boat finally.

This cute Aleut sat behind me with her beautiful baby boy, who was amazingly quite the entire flight, and the rest of the plane was filled with another family trying to get back home after a weekend in Anchorage. They had spent the first couple of days in St. Paul to celebrate, then decided to head to Anchorage to see other family. The flight went off without a hitch, I think it was because there was a new pilot, who was at least 30 and had some experience landing in St. Paul. When I arrived there, the family that I had been with on my first trip was there in pickup trucks, pulled right up to the run way to pick up the people I sheared this flight with. Grandma clapped when she saw me and said, "Welcome to my Island." What a beautiful lady.

When there I saw the other Scientist, he was on his way back home to Anchorage along with others who he had seen for the celebration. They had seen my boat in the harbor, because they don't normally get boats that big in the harbor of St. Paul, everyone knew which one I was supposed to get on. They said the boat had been waiting then left, and that I was going to be a popular guy when I got on board. I already knew this, the boat had been spinning its wheels waiting for me the last couple of days, but there was nothing I could do about it. This girl Lou, who had just graduated from OSU, yes stone a beaver, said that she could give me a ride out to the dock to see if my boat was coming. She is here working for NMFS, the same government entity I altuimitly work for, in research of the Fur Seals. She is a very sweet girl with a great smile and a person who I am blessed to have run into and met. We went to the dock, no one around. It's Labor Day, of course there won't be a harbor master around. No large boat either. So she took me back to the NMFS field office so that I could call my company. They told me the boat was out, and that they wont be back in until tomorrow. Lou and Greg, the other person living in this huge field bunk house that NMFS has, told me to stay with them until everything get sorted out.

These two people have been saviors to me. They have feed me, given me a place to stay, and made me fell welcomed since the moment I was stranded and fell on their door step. I stayed the night there, Lou cooked an awesome curry from scratch over rice, we sat around talked about how the two of them made it to St. Paul and the research they were doing. Greg is a self proclaimed "bird guy" working for a wild life refuge that takes in data on all the birds in the Aleutian and Bering Sea Islands. He has been coming to St. Paul now for three years, spending 7 to 8 months of his year here, making sure to leave before the winter hits. Lou is on a 3 month contract to help out with the counting and tagging of the fur seals which inhabit the island. This island is a large breeding ground for them. We chatted a little more, watched a movie, and it was off to bed. This was the first mattress I have slept on since leaving Spokane. The beds in the bunk house in Anchorage were foam pads. So it was a welcomed night.

Day 4

I'm sorry I have to end this now, I just got word that my boat is finally going to be here, and they want to just do a touch and go. I have an hour to get ready again and get to the dock. These last two days here in St. Paul have been great, and it was a blessing that the boat hadn't been here so that I could see this beautiful island and be shown around by Greg and Lou, two people who I was blessed to have met. I will finish this entry as soon as I can, and start some new ones from aboard my first vessel, the Pavlov. I am excited and pumped. Thank you all for your comments, and I'm glad that you enjoy reading about my adventures. I hope they aren't too long winded, I just don't get to converse with you and I'm sure you all know how I like to tell long stories. Sorry for this abrupt end, but stay tuned because day 4 and 5 involve me boating among the fur seals, standing within 10 feet of them, and a little fox who followed me on my walk around the island.

I will back on line before you know it.

- Casey