Kickin' The Blues That Can't Be Satisfied

The days have been starting to become monotonous aboard the boat. Each day seemingly a rip off of Bill Murray's Groundhog's Day. The same ominous grey back drop, which seems to have been stolen from a scene in a Hitchcock movie, looms around all view points and extending over horizon. Everyday is wet, grey and rocky. The weather seems to spit water at me from all directions like the war scene in Forest Gump. The wind has been a steady 10-15 knots. Just windy enough to make you thoughtful of every step and action taken to ensure no spilling of the morning-noon-3 o’clock cup of coffee. The boat rocks continuously with no end with an irrational rhythm. Rocking with just enough tilt and randomness forcing you to be mindful of every step and movement. Trust me, its as annoying as it sounds. My rack has the resemblance of the cut the beautiful assistant in half magician's cart. I have to roll myself into it every time I want to find somewhere away from the galley to run to. Getting out is a different animal. Usually ends with me conceding my pride and I send myself rolling, tumbling, and acrobatically springing to my feet from the 2 foot drop. I need more practice. Food is running low, and portions have been cut back a little. Not enough food ordered and stocked the last time we left town is considered the reason to blame. The books I have left to read just don’t seem interesting enough to keep my attention. And the nature in which I have to rest my head and contort my body if I am to watch a movie in my rack after the day’s work is done, has left the right side of my neck in a loop-swoop-and-pull kind of a knot.

Not so surprising I’ve started to ask myself if maybe I’ve spent enough time in the Bering Sea. Come August, I will have been at this job for a full year. I will have totaled upwards of 180 days of it at sea. Have I gotten everything that I set out to get from this job. Not having a familiar pillow and comforter that one can rely upon to be there when the day gets to stressful and worrisome, is starting to upset me. I keep reminding myself of the freedom this job allows when I’m done, but is that freedom still worth this to me. Is it worth 180 days of my life lived in this Groundhog’s Day of mine?

I woke up this morning sore and in pain. My shoulder hurting and my back yelling at me. The coffee burnt. The eggs dry. Out of bread for toast, and Ibuprofen stock low. “Haul 257” The captain comes down to tell me as I’m donning my Orange Unitard work suit that I noticed yesterday, has a growing hole in the crotch. I bundle up, throw the rest of the stale coffee down my throat quickly and without tasting it, grab my clip board and muster a couple of consecutive steps towards my position on deck. The first pot comes aboard. I press my finger onto the clicker duck taped to my clip board. Pot 1 of 52 down. Next Pot. Click. Pot Three. Click. Pot Fou... SPOUT.





Everyone’s head turns and there are two Killer Whales about 100 yards aft of starboard. They land the pot, and get on my feet from my spool of line I call a bench, too take a look.


SPOUT.





Again, this time closer, and I catch the very end of it. Now I’m racing back into my room to get the camera. I’ve heard other tales from observers of Killer Whales following the boat feeding from the by catch tossed over board, and I see a chance for some pictures.


I come back out to see all 5 guys out on deck staring out in the direction of the whales as I hustle aft to the rail on the stern of the boat (sorry no life jacket mom, but don’t worry, I shuffled my feet across the deck, I didn’t exactly run.... well I didn’t sprint...).

“Have they left?”
“No they’re... right there!”









This job has it days, weeks, maybe months, that are rough to endure. Mentally and physically challenging in ways different from jobs and day to day life on land in the city. Of course that can be left unsaid, but can’t really be understood until you yourself have been through this specific set of challenges. Throw on top of this fire the fact that I myself come aboard as an outsider. As the Government. Then sprinkle on the fact the boat pays my salary but I don’t work for the boat. There are obstacles beyond the obvious ones that come with life out at sea. It’s easy to forget the benefits and the experiences I am afforded to take home with me when I leave this job. The pictures, the hikes, new cities, new people, new foods, stories, and above all, the freedom to travel after a contract completed. For now that is good enough to keep him focused on what I am here to do, and what I am asking the job to do for me. For now it can fulfill that. The next move, the next step is around the corner though. Don’t for one second think I haven’t been plotting it. As soon as it’s set in stone, I’ll let you all know. For now, I’m just going to enjoy the occasional Killer Whale Spy Hopping in the distance (Yes I really took this picture).








- Casey Franklin

12 days later...

May 22

It’s now day three of my new assignment. A new boat, a new crew, a new type of fishery. I am a guest this time aboard a smaller pot boat fishing for Sablefish (Black Cod). Pot caught Sablefish is saved for the end of the season fishing by most pot boats. These boats are usually crab boats finished with their Oplio and Baridi Crab quotas. They switch out the pot launcher, drop off the crab pots and pick up the much smaller, circular Sablefish pots. By the size of the pot, a full one looks like it could only yield 30 to a total max of 40 fish.

This fishery allocates only very small quotas compared to the others I’ve been ridding along with. The fleet is small and the crew experienced. This boat fits that mold. The crew has been fishing for the last 5 months switching from one crab season to the next. This is the last fishing of the year. A month or so picking at their Sablefish and Halibut quota, and then its home for the next couple of months for most of them. The crew size is small, 4 deck hands, an engineer/captain (only for one trip), and the captain.

This crew and the job is really laid back, the mood very easy. Every crew member hails from a different part of the world; Vietnam, Samoa (not American Samoa, Western Samoa), different parts of Alaska, Washington, New York. The boat is packed with soda, snack foods, lunch meat, water, music and movies. Free reign has been given to me multiple times a day to make myself at home and take what I want. As always, this isn’t as hard of a way to earn a dollar as it seemed like it would be when I signed up for this.



May 25
Today is one of those days where I wake up and remember where I am. Where the mundaneness of the everyday grind has faded away long enough to allow my mind put sentences and ideas together about my position in the world. “I’m in Alaska?” Is usually stated out loud as if this statement can’t be true. I’ve been at sea for around 120 days since the day I started this job back in August. When the fog lifts, the sun shines, the nearest bit of uninhabited land shows it’s self in the distance, cogs within my brain each rotating counter directions lock up; which queues my lungs to breath deep, my head to rise, my eyes to gaze, my nose to smell, and my mouth to utter those words, “I’m in Alaska?” Today is one of those days.

May 31
Two days from a steam into land. A day in port to get supplies that have almost run out. A day to catch up with the news. A day to stretch my cramped legs. A day, after 11 days at sea, and another 10+ waiting on the other end. I have been waiting for a day for the past 8 days. One man is running home once his feet hit the dry land. A 5 month sentence on the boat over and a 2 month reprieve with his wife, 5 kids, and motor-home on the horizon.

As for me and my sentence, I have 30 days down and 60 to go. I may change that. I want to be back here by August 1 for the beginning of longline season. This boat will have a need for me for another 3 trips at the minimum. That’ll get me to right around July 1st. My boss may be persuaded to allow me to go back to Seattle at that point so that I can debrief, brief and get back to Dutch for the next trip by beginning of August. This would give me probably 2 weeks in July to have to play, get a sunburn, and see friends and family. A 90 contract from that date would land me in Seattle right around Halloween. The one true schedule this job holds to is that there is no schedule. I can plan as much as I want to, but the likely hood of everything falling together is unusual. But that is the plan as of now.

Happy Anniversary Ben and Keri Saad. I think of the two of you often. For those who don’t know, Ben is serving is second deployment in Afghanistan in the Army. It was always Ben’s plan to be exactly where he is since he was in high school, serving his country as a helicopter pilot. Its easy to be proud of that man.



June 1

This morning we were getting the last of the fish into the live tank before heading back into town to off load and do town things, when the Coast Guard announced they were coming to board. Kodiak, Alaska is home to the largest Coast Guard base in the world. They board the fishing vessels periodically to make sure protocol is being fallowed and the vessel is up to code on the safety regulations. Last October I was aboard the Pathfinder F/V when we were boarded by the Coast Guard as well. I was surprised to see a familiar face among the Coasties, Brandon Sanford, a kid who I graduated high school with. Of course I was wondering if he was going to be among the crew that jumped on board this time.

Brandon sticks his head in the galley and starts spinning around, this time without that authoritative mustache he had been growing last Fall. It’s very amazing that two kids from the North Side of Spokane would run into one another two times within a years time in the middle of the Bering Sea. I have had so many “small world” moments in Alaska with the people I’ve met, but this one is the craziest. It’s good to see that this job of his has treated him well and has provided him a career he’s taken too.

I showed Brandon and a couple of the new Coasties around the boat, which takes all of 3 minutes. Then conversation turned towards our mutual friends living on land. Who’s are getting married, are married, who’s doing what, the natural small talk. Hard to believe that conversation would be taking place in the Bering Sea for the second time. After the inspection, and completion of the small talk, Brandon now an officer, takes his crew back to their skiff to ride back to the gigantic “mother ship”. I’m glad I got to see him again. Though we weren’t close by any stretch of the word, in high school, it was really good to see him again.

Now it’s time to finish the days fishing and steam back into Dutch Harbor for a one day, two night vacation. In this fishery, I don’t have any responsibility during the offload, there is a biologist at the plant we offload to that monitors, takes specimen samples, and all the rest of the dirty work. That leaves me to my vises; meaning a couch, the internet, and Sports Center.

June 3,

Looks like I'll be around land longer then thought. I'll be here for two days before we roll back out to sea.

- Casey