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