<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900</id><updated>2012-02-16T20:22:12.395-09:00</updated><title type='text'>Into the AK</title><subtitle type='html'>A running dialog of my trip and job as a wildlife biologist working on commercial fishing boats in the Bering Sea and surrounding waters of Alaska.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>37</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-7562533934450648980</id><published>2009-07-09T22:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T23:01:09.103-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fourth of July on a Boat Out at Sea</title><content type='html'>July 4th&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been hard for me to find what to write about aboard this boat. There is so much going on, I have a lot of stories, and the crew has been a joy (well lets call it interesting) to get to know. Due to the confidentiality agreement we sign with our contracts, there is little that I can write about that revolves around the fishing practices of the boat. Because of this, most things I want to write about or has happened that has dictated my mood, time in town, time not fishing at sea, and time spent fishing, is all related to the fishing practices. I am a lucky biologist. I got aboard a boat and fishery that is really relaxed yet unpredictable. Every day is different, but fishing has been rather casual. There is a lot of time spent reading books, listening and sharing music, and watching movies. We've had barbecues, some great Vietnamese fish soup, plenty of time in town, and done are fare share of fishing. This looks to be my last trip aboard this vessel. Weather is going to be the determining factor on what kind of time table I get put on, not fishing. The fish are there, we just have to be able to turn our gear and get to them. But the weather has to be on our side for this small crab boat to be able to do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The difference between longlineing pot gear and the crab pot gear you see on the Deadliest Catch is in the way the pots are strung together in one long string. If you've ever seen the Deadliest Catch then you see the hand on the rail throwing the hook at the bags for every pot. With longline gear, the hook is only thrown one time. Then the line on the bags is placed in the block and the line is rolled up onto the boat. Each pot is hooked onto the line about 20 fathoms (120 feet) apart from one another. The line is the key to bringing up the gear, if that line breaks, then there is only one more chance to pull up the rest of the gear by going to the opposite end, and start over. If the line breaks again from that side, the gear is lost. With large swells, a rolling boat, and a stiff wind, the task of keeping the line in one piece is much more difficult. With traditional crab pot gear, you don't have this problem because each piece of gear is separate from one another. If that buoy line breaks, then one pot is lost, not 20-40. Weather than acts as a much larger restriction within the longline pot fishery then traditional pot fishing. The advantages to the longline gear is in the rate in which a boat can turn the gear, and the elimination of time wasted looking for buoys and throwing the hook. So with the prediction of winds blowing 35-50 knots over the next week, changing directions from one day to the next, and the unpredictability of what we're going to be able to do, I'm not sure what the fishing is going to be like for the immediate future of this cruise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is July 4th though today and don't dare to think that being out to sea is going to stop a boat full of men from finding some way to celebrate the great American summer holiday. There may be no fireworks, its rainy, foggy, cold, and the boat's a rocking too much to have any sort of BBQ, but we've got some ribs for dinner that come out just nice in the oven. A couple of Seal Bombs (not designed to blowup seals, but only to scare them off the gear) take the place of snakes and sparklers as the "good stuff". In all honesty, everyone is just happy to be fishing and making money right now to care too much about the holiday. Of course my mind wonders back down south here and there, thinking of friends and family and the fact I could be celebrating with them, but I'll be home soon enough. Missing the 4th of July becomes less of a deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know last year while I was out to sea for 45 days, a boat in the Bering Sea had to abandon ship, some of the crew was lost and most of you who heard the news were scared that the boat might have been mine. When things like that happen, everyone on a boat becomes somber and silently begin to cogitate. The radio woke everyone up again this morning about 1300 today. A crew member (I'm going to leave out all specifics) aboard a longline boat this morning fell of the side or back of the boat in their pajamas. There is nothing specific that I can say about this except that everyone aboard this boat has seen more than their fare share of this before. With a crew this veteran, there is no shortage of stories of lost friends, either witnessed or toasted in the name of later in town, who have fallen over the rail, or been killed while fishing. It's become a somber 4th of July as its very evident that the crews minds have shifted quickly to the past. Each possessing a mournful glaze on their eyes, and the mood is very unpredictable. But almost as quickly as it came upon them, its gone. Less than 30 minutes later, there seems to be no effects of the news on anyone. We're fishing, I guess it's expected. It happens. I guess it's something these men have had to come to grips with many times over many years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy 4th of July everyone, I'll be back soon. Trust in that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-7562533934450648980?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/7562533934450648980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=7562533934450648980&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/7562533934450648980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/7562533934450648980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2009/07/fourth-of-july-on-boat-out-at-sea.html' title='Fourth of July on a Boat Out at Sea'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-3118032257553647658</id><published>2009-06-04T00:44:00.005-08:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T03:46:22.552-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kickin' The Blues That Can't Be Satisfied</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SievooyF-OI/AAAAAAAAAHA/Rsazez9vHio/s1600-h/P1010156_2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 371px; height: 247px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SievooyF-OI/AAAAAAAAAHA/Rsazez9vHio/s400/P1010156_2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343432595575535842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SPOUT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SievpX2Bx9I/AAAAAAAAAHY/TpIsLYrJj7s/s1600-h/P1010149.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 368px; height: 276px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SievpX2Bx9I/AAAAAAAAAHY/TpIsLYrJj7s/s400/P1010149.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343432608208504786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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...).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Have they left?”&lt;br /&gt;“No they’re... right there!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sievo9H4gnI/AAAAAAAAAHI/UZKiG76o4JQ/s1600-h/P1010132.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 371px; height: 278px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sievo9H4gnI/AAAAAAAAAHI/UZKiG76o4JQ/s400/P1010132.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343432601035637362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SievpGRNdkI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/UrolJmqUQts/s1600-h/P1010139.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 371px; height: 278px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SievpGRNdkI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/UrolJmqUQts/s400/P1010139.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343432603490678338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SieKYjme5OI/AAAAAAAAAG4/Dx_ommOSgjM/s1600-h/P1010163_2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 359px; height: 252px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SieKYjme5OI/AAAAAAAAAG4/Dx_ommOSgjM/s400/P1010163_2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343391637376525538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey Franklin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-3118032257553647658?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/3118032257553647658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=3118032257553647658&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/3118032257553647658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/3118032257553647658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2009/06/kickin-blues-that-cant-be-satisfied.html' title='Kickin&apos; The Blues That Can&apos;t Be Satisfied'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SievooyF-OI/AAAAAAAAAHA/Rsazez9vHio/s72-c/P1010156_2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-7070647106985329274</id><published>2009-06-03T03:01:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T03:09:49.528-08:00</updated><title type='text'>12 days later...</title><content type='html'>May 22&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May 25&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May 31&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June 1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June 3,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looks like I'll be around land longer then thought. I'll be here for two days before we roll back out to sea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-7070647106985329274?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/7070647106985329274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=7070647106985329274&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/7070647106985329274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/7070647106985329274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2009/06/first-trip-down.html' title='12 days later...'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-2754864156755507424</id><published>2009-05-13T15:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T16:07:53.374-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kodiak, Gulf of Alaska, Whale Watching, oh and work ...</title><content type='html'>I'm just arrived in Anchorage from a 12 day at sea trip aboard a longliner fishing for Sablefish. The boat picked me up in Kodiak where we fished in the beautifully calm Gulf of Alaska. Once their alotted quote was met, the boat steamed towards Bellingham to offload their catch, but on the way they kicked me off in remote Yakutak, AK.  Look it up on Google maps. You'll still find yourself saying, "Where is this....?" "Is this Canada?" I'll write later about the day I spent in Yakutak and the amazing ride into port along a pennusula covered with mountains and glaciers. I'll combine it with my flight from Yakutak to Cordava to Anchorage. Beautiful clear flight with some over head shots of receding glaciers among the vast mountain range of north, Southeast Alaska.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are writings from sea. As well as a few pictures. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think and if you have any other questions about the Gulf of Alaska. Tomorrow I fly to Dutch Harbor to get my next assignment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5/3/09&lt;br /&gt;Kodiak&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SgtXeAcBuuI/AAAAAAAAAFI/b2sJdV4UyUU/s1600-h/P1000804.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 343px; height: 255px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SgtXeAcBuuI/AAAAAAAAAFI/b2sJdV4UyUU/s400/P1000804.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335454356575730402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I arrived to beautiful Kodiak and the 60 degree weather that made every local I met sweat through their first shirt. The flight in was much more then I expected it to be. I got to fly from Anchorage to Kodiak without a cloud between my and the Ocean. It was a quick one hour flight packed with the local high school track team coming back from a regional competition. Yes their track team flies Alaska airlines to go to a “regional” track meet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SgtYFz1RnSI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/7OzPAMrY718/s1600-h/P1000817.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 339px; height: 254px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SgtYFz1RnSI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/7OzPAMrY718/s400/P1000817.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335455040386735394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The island is vast and open, save the abundance of timber covering the island. A traveling hunters destination, it was easy to picture the large Kodiak Bear, Deer, and the rest of the game that rich men travel extreme distances for a week long guided hike with a rifle. There were multiple such men on this flight as well. I over heard them as they all discussed how many times they had made this pilgrimage before, what they brought home, what the new cats should expect to see, etcetera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for myself, I arrive on this island alone and carrying 150 lbs of gear and sampling equipment. Unlike Dutch Harbor, my company does not have a bunk house or a person designated to take us to and fro the island and get us to our boat. To my delight, my boss answered my phone call with news of delay from the boat.... 60 degree weather, myself with a hotel on the company, hiking trails starting from steps outside of downtown.... I get paid for this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it sounds weird the first place that I would walk to, once I get my gear to my hotel and get settled and changed, would be to the dock. You may think that I’m going to get enough of the ocean in the up coming months to fill my cup. Its a clear 60 degree spring day in a brand new Alaskan city. I could never get tired staring into the ocean and walking the docks on days like those. I tired a hike to the top of the hill looking over downtown Kodiak and City Harbor, but I wasn’t sure where I was allowed to walk and where I wasn’t. I wasn’t going to be stepping on any toes my first day there, and the lady at the hotel desk was no help with where I should take my hiking boots. So the harbor it was. Never second best in my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day I started my 3rd voyage out to sea aboard my vessel. They picked me up at the dock at 1500 Alaska standard time, and we embarked a couple of hours later. First impression of the crew and captain were great. This vessel is another longlineing vessel fishing for Sablefish (Black Cod). I thought at first this could be another 20-30 day trip like I had on my last longliner during B season last October, but the Captain quickly told me hell no, they’d be dropping me off in Southeast Alaska in no more than 8 days. I head swiveled around and I said gave him the biggest, “you better not be kidding me son” look I’ve ever thrown and someone. Southeast Alaska in the spring? I started admittedly hoping that I get stuck there for no less than 3 days. I have been plotting a way to lose a month of my life in Southeast AK either this summer or next. A 3 day head start in Spring will come as a welcomed gift from my employer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get paid for this....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5/08/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alaskan Icing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“... You mean, Like the Deadliest Catch?”&lt;br /&gt;“ No, Deadlier .....”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must admit, that show was a factor in me deciding to take this job. It had to be. That show is the only actual representation for what I was getting myself into. Before taking this job in July, Discovery channel just so happened to serendipitously playing a marathon. OK maybe not so serendipitously, since they are always playing a marathon of the Deadliest Catch these days. Why is that? Anyways, I had to make sure that I was going to be OK with the inherent risks that come with this occupation. Of course the first boat I get assigned to, a crab pot boat fishing for Pacific Cod. I’m staring my apprehension directly in the face...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This being my 3rd contract and wondering how much longer I’m going to continue this job, My mind starts to think back to what got me out here and what I’ve learned and who I am now because of this experience. Having to face that kind of inherent fear face on with no way to back out was a good way to quench the thrill seeking portion of my brain, but will not ultimately be the lasting experience I take away from this job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every boat I’ve boarded faces the same danger of those who are portrayed as cowboys who are wanted dead or alive on the Discovery Channel show. Crab is just sexier than Cod or Pollock. I believe that’s what separates those boats from the ones I’ve been on. You see the pay off immediately and obviously in crab in pots. The other boats, its a slower process, and the catch isn’t exactly as clean as the crabbers. Either way, every fishermen out there should receive the same kind of admiration those cats get. The thrill seeking aspect of this job starts when you leave the dock is filled within a couple hours of floating around. You quickly realize its not like the Discovery Channel. A thrill seeking expedition that this adventure might have started as has transformed into so much more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I’ve written about before, I’m a visitor. Every boat I get on to, I’m a guest and I have to remember that. Every boat has made me feel welcomed, and I’ve felt nothing but welcomed, but I’m still a guest. I have a job to do that is contrary to the process the boat was designed for. I have to try and design a scientific design around the movement of a floating processing plant. I can’t slow things down and ask for even precise numbers that would be easy to predict and use. This job doesn’t function that way. Never is one haul the same to the last. Quick thinking within parameters of a scientific design are essential. Confidence in yourself and problem solving skills are tools more essential then any measuring equipment I lug aboard these vessels. The confidence I wield is more then just my ability to adjust the design to still fit within parameters yielding readable and comparable results. Its a confidence that the fishermen, mainly the captain, need to hear in my voice, see in my gait, and it can’t ever waver. This confidence lets everyone else know exactly where I stand the moment I walk on the boat. Eliminating any chance relationships created on board will in any way be able effect anything that makes it on to my paper. This confidence allows me to remain unbiased, thus my words and numbers reported are unbiased. Finding this confidence within me is the greatest discover this job has provided. The fact that I also get have this once in a lifetime adventure on top of it, is icing. Oh, we get cake out here too. Packed with icing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5/09/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody said they saw me&lt;br /&gt;Swinging the world by the tail&lt;br /&gt;Bouncing over a white cloud&lt;br /&gt;Killing the blues&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quick question. When you look out your window at work, if you’re there right now do it quickly, what do you see .....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you see this.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SgtWR9H-EUI/AAAAAAAAAE4/lxu_QPxJ58k/s1600-h/P1000906.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 337px; height: 258px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SgtWR9H-EUI/AAAAAAAAAE4/lxu_QPxJ58k/s400/P1000906.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335453050016239938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SgtWzVb1oiI/AAAAAAAAAFA/UslwDvjbf3A/s1600-h/P1000837.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 337px; height: 252px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SgtWzVb1oiI/AAAAAAAAAFA/UslwDvjbf3A/s400/P1000837.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335453623477707298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BAM!!!! Sperm Whale coming at ya’ hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What? You don’t have one of those outside your window? Oh, I do...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw these fellers floating around for a good 20 minutes 300-500 yards over the starboard side feeling us out, and then all of the sudden, they were down. Flukes in the air and diving. It’s common for Sperm Whales to follow longliner boats fishing for Sablefish. They know that fish will be near by and they compete heavily with the boat. Not a welcomed sight for the captain. And to be honest, this one sighting and the next one I had, are all I really needed. I’d much rather a happy boat and crew then my own excitement of whale watching while getting paid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The possible sighting of the spout of a sperm whale in the back of my mind, has added some excitement to my favorite past time of sipping coffee on the dock staring out into the ocean, smelling the salt water. This has been a great way to start my third trip. I have figured out how to bridge the gap of my relation with the crew members and my duties on board. This crew is relaxed and excellent to work around. This fishery allows me to be outside most of the time, counting fish on a line. Outside with the weather is where I’d rather be on the boat in the first place. With this wonderfully agreeable weather we have experienced the entire trip, I’m getting my fill of day gazing into the ocean. Did I mention I get paid for this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5/11/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be wary the bird that flies directly over head&lt;br /&gt;It may just poop on you....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This may seem like a quip to those who haven’t planted themselves in one spot on the deck of a floating fish factory for hours at a time. But these words hold wisdom gained through, lets call it ... maturity. During daylight hours, our vessel is stalked by over 200 birds feeding on the discards from the factory. Watching the birds fly from port side to starboard speculating which side offers the better deal, I’m caught in between and completely unarmed. An umbrella is an item I will not board a longline fishing vessel again without. I am covered in rubber rain gear in anticipation to battle 30 mph winds, water breaking over the bow of the boat on my back, the rain, and the frigid cold. The rain gear is no help however to stop the humiliation of the uric acid bombs assailing upon me from 15 feet above. There is one man who seems to get full enjoyment from seeing the bombardment that occurs during feces prime time. He sits lofted and looming over the roller man watching his catch come over the roller onto the boat. Because I need the same view to tally the fish coming aboard, I stand directly opposite of the captain’s chair among the elements on the deck above the roller station. While the captain is eating cookies drinking coffee, listening to country music (for some reason all captains love their country music. Its a weird anomaly that I’ve discovered), I stand exposed to four elements of the sea; wind, rain, cold and bird poo. He shoots me a crumb covered smile coupled with the tip of his coffee mug, just as the bright orange bird waste beckon I’m wearing, receives its latest deposit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in the name of Science ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Casey Franklin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-2754864156755507424?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/2754864156755507424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=2754864156755507424&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/2754864156755507424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/2754864156755507424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2009/05/kodiak-gulf-of-alaska-whale-watching-oh.html' title='Kodiak, Gulf of Alaska, Whale Watching, oh and work ...'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SgtXeAcBuuI/AAAAAAAAAFI/b2sJdV4UyUU/s72-c/P1000804.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-5466170034263758357</id><published>2009-05-03T13:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T14:17:19.341-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to the AK 3</title><content type='html'>There has been a long time passing since I've been in Alaska. For a long time, I was wondering if I would get work before June. I missed a small window to get work in mid March due to a shoulder injury that I had to get checked out before going back to sea. Diagnosis, arthritis....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm ready to go back to AK. More than going back to AK, I'm ready to work again. I had more than double the time off then I expected to have from this last contract. This new contract is going to give me some opportunities and experiences that I haven't had from the previous two trips into Dutch Harbor. This contract is going to start in Kodiak. Kodiak is located south of the Aleutian Islands, and this new fishery will fish south of the Bering Sea in the Gulf of Alaska. I can not publish the name of the boat due to confidentiality restrictions, but I can say this boat is fishing for Sablefish (Black Cod) and they are a long line fishing boat. There is a chance they could fish using pot gear (the gear seen on the crab boats), but I'm pretty sure they'll be longlineing for this first trip at least. On my first contract, I got on a longline fishing vessel. That trip lasted 45 days straight out at sea. This trip has the potential to have the same duration, but it is more likely to be around 21 to 30 days. This will be a smaller vessel, and I believe the black cod season is shorter than cod longlineing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summer fishing!!! There are two very exciting advatages to working in the summer in the Gulf of Alaska verses the Bering Sea. #1, the weather. The weather is going to be much, much calmer then what I experienced out in the Bering Sea last pollock A season in February. I heard testamony from both fishermen and biologists who experienced last season's storms believed it to be close the worse they'd seen. There week long periods where boats were stuck to the dock due to the weather surrounding the port and in the fishing grounds. Summer fishing coupled with being in the Gulf of Alaska will be stark contrast. I doubt I'll see the 30-40 foot swells I saw last season. No more 50 knot winds. Also days that'll last longer than 6 hours. My job is almost too easy.... #2, Marine Mammals. I'll write that again so that it sinks in and you fully understand what it is I wrote. Marine Mammals. Aka whales, dolphins, porpoises, seals, of all different kinds. This is the season for them. This is going to be my biggest chance to see them as well. I don't want to jix myself, but there is a close to 100 percent chance that I'll encounter not just one type, but multiple types of marine mammals on this contract. My next post will have pictures of what I've seen. I wont be allowed to show any shots of the boat or the catch, but the marine mammals I will. I'll take some video as well and post a link to the youtube channel that I'm going to start. I have some other video of my time with fur seals on St. Paul (Blog from the first contract in September of 2008) along with video and photos of a group of seals I came upon on a hike up Bunker hill with Everet and Tyler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smooth seas, marine mammals, and a new city to experience in Kodiak Island, I'm excited for this contract to start. Of course I'm more excited for it to end, so that I can be home with money in my pocket and the opportunity to spend some leisure time in the sun with friends, but I think this season in the Northern Pacific Ocean is going to agree very well with me. I will keep an account of my adventures just like the other seasons while on board and then post them once I get to land. Don't worry about me. I'm going to be spending the start to the summer of '09 on basically a ride along of a commercial fishing boat in Gulf of Alaska. Sailing waters most people shell out gobs of money to see during a cruise to Alaska. Who knew wildlife biology actually meant biology in the wild and among the wildlife .... I can't believe I get paid to do this sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye Society, I'll catch ya' later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Casey Franklin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-5466170034263758357?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/5466170034263758357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=5466170034263758357&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/5466170034263758357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/5466170034263758357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2009/05/back-to-ak-3.html' title='Back to the AK 3'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-838409648738019386</id><published>2009-03-30T14:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T14:35:31.372-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting up dated</title><content type='html'>I came back early from my last contract in order to go to the Brandon Pyle and Jennifer Craine wedding March 7th. Something I would not have missed for anything (for example, a paycheck).  I am heading back up to the AK for my third contract soon. I will need to spend on day in Seattle at the NOAA offices for a briefing before flying back to Dutch Harbor and on to a boat. I have no idea what kind of boat I will be put on this time, but it will be different then any other boat I have been on thus far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if any of you heard about the Valcano that blew in AK for the past week. Mt. Redoubt erupted on March 23 5 times leaving a lot of ash across the state, and shutting down flights into and out of Anchorage. All is fine now, and there should be no problem with flights from now into Anchorage then to Dutch Harbor during the next couple weeks when I am likely to be flying back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/7959261.stm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///Users/Franklin/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot.png" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///Users/Franklin/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot-1.png" alt="" /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SdFFUsd6H4I/AAAAAAAAAEw/onFwmf_rLAI/s1600-h/Mt+Redoubt+Eruption"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SdFFUsd6H4I/AAAAAAAAAEw/onFwmf_rLAI/s400/Mt+Redoubt+Eruption" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319108856737570690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm excited about getting back to work and getting back out to sea. This time of year has an increased chance of running into marine mammals. I am excited at the chance to see my first whale in the wild. I will share pictures of that happy moment with you when it arises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it's been over a month since I've updated, but this blog is more about the job I'm doing rather than the boring life I tend to lead outside of this job. Trust me when I say that outside of this job, there isn't much that you would feel like reading about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still really enjoy this job and the adventure it provides. Every time heading out to sea is different, and every boat I get put onto is different. The people I've met has turned out to be the best part of this job (besides getting paid).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't cut my hair or my beard since January and I plan on allow my face and head to resemble a chia pet for the next three months as well. I will update the blog once I get to AK as much as I can with what is going on, what the job is like, how the seas are, and real accounts of day to day life aboard a fishing boat in the middle of the Bering Sea during the Spring. Thank you for all that have followed this, and I hope that it hasn't been too far in between posts that I have lost some of you. Any questions about the job please ask, and I'll try to answer them the best I can. There are somethings I have to leave out for confidentiality purposes. If I can answer, I will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-838409648738019386?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/838409648738019386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=838409648738019386&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/838409648738019386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/838409648738019386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2009/03/getting-up-dated.html' title='Getting up dated'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SdFFUsd6H4I/AAAAAAAAAEw/onFwmf_rLAI/s72-c/Mt+Redoubt+Eruption' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-1645329056147165628</id><published>2009-02-22T03:37:00.000-09:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T14:37:31.870-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Out of the AK</title><content type='html'>There has been some time that has passed since my last entry. I didn't have any time in town in between trips to upload anything. After the offloads, the plant sent us out as soon as we could get out there. A season does bring rougher seas then B season did in the fall. The peaks to the swells were much sharper then I had seen before. The difference of being in a much smaller boat is easily noticeable as well. Only being out at sea for only a couple of days at a time verses a month to a month and a half, sea legs are never really gained. You are also always combating sea sickness. Out at sea for 4-5 days, in port for 1-2 then back out to sea, your equilibrium can never get into the rhythm it needs to. I never felt nauseated really though. The sea sickness just left me with pounding head aches and feeling as if my ears needed to be popped but couldn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Captain and crew of this cruise ended up being perfect for me. They were all had kids in the Jr. high age group and had been fishing with one another for quite a long time. It was great watching them work together never really having to tell each other what they were doing or what they were expecting the others to be doing. Everything on the boat had a routine also beyond the fishing. Once I found my place in that routine, things went very smoothly. It's harder than you might first think to find that routine among these people that have literally made this boat home for the past 10 winters and falls. Its as if you were forced to have some young, just out of college, know it all come live in a guest room on your property. You have to provide for him as if he was your child, yet you can't "demand" that he really do anything. Also, his work, his job, is to report all that you do in the day to your boss. Trying to find a way to make that situation work is the toughest part of my job. The dichotomy of a professional and personal relationship with the captain and crew has to be strongly established within the first few hours when you first meet. If I can't, then the next month is spent trying to. Everything seemed workout great with this crew, and I think all the credit goes to the professional and respectful way in which they work and handle themselves. Of course they expect the same manner of work ethic and respect in return from anyone working and living on the boat. Once that was established, I had a great time working with and living with this crew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now back in Seattle after this short, one month stint into the Bering Sea. I had to come home early for a wedding I could not miss for the world on March 7th. After which I am going to try and head back to AK as soon as I can so that I can start making money again here shortly. An other trip will probably within a new fishery. Which comes with a new boat, captain and crew. Starting all over again learning, working, living out at sea. Trust me, there is nothing like waking up to a breakfast of coffee, eggs, bacon, and the smell of the ocean. I don't know how much longer I will doing this job, but that sensation I just described will always tug at me to keep doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, Danny Pecka. I don't have a witty blog of completely factual information of his ridiculously awesome life to throw at the world. But he is a damn good friend. I love you buddy. Keep on . . . Keepin' on. . . Keep Truckin' . . .&lt;br /&gt;He has a great blog that he has been doing for about a year now of his job as he travels over the North West in his car. He has some strange takes on what he sees that will have you asking yourself,  " . . . What?" as you snort laugh with his humor. Check it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://dannypecka.blogspot.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not just putting this on here because he wrote a completely factual blog about me, his stuff is super hilarious, and I know you'll all get a kick out of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-1645329056147165628?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/1645329056147165628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=1645329056147165628&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/1645329056147165628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/1645329056147165628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2009/02/out-of-ak.html' title='Out of the AK'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-509087290540645892</id><published>2009-02-10T15:45:00.000-09:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T16:00:03.195-09:00</updated><title type='text'>Rough Weather Days</title><content type='html'>We've embarked from port. There was word of rough weather north around the fishing grounds, but reports came back that it wasn't too bad. So we headed out. This boat is 125 feet long. The other two boats I was aboard during B Season (September - November) were 160 and 180 feet long. I witnessed 55 knot winds coupled with 40 foot swells, yet last night's weather tossed this little catcher vessel much more violently than anything I felt during B season. Laying in my rack, I could feel the hull of the boat quiver with impact. It would resonate from the hull to the rest of the boat like a tuning fork struck on a counter top. Awoken by violent vibrations and then levitated in my rack after climbing the next swell, which ends with another thundering crash. This isn't continuous and never ending, it's here and there. It comes blind because there is no view of the seas in the galley and in the rack. There is no bracing for it. It's just assumed that its around the corner. One Hand for the Boat. A mantra put to memory and forced into your intuition after only swing that yields to you slipping and hitting something on the boat causing you to look Green.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for the first time, we're hiding today from the weather that is to hit our area tonight. Once it passes, we'll get back to catching fish. Honestly, I'm just grateful to be out at sea and not sitting on the dock. Whether We're fishing well or not, the disposition of the fishermen noticeably gung-ho. The sooner we start fishing, the sooner we're done. The sooner they go home to see their wives and kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2/10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are done fishing now, and I'm back at port. The longest part of my job is monitoring the offload of the catch at the cannery. This offload should run close to 18 hours. It's not a completely straight 18 hours. I do have some breaks built in, but it is very monotonous and I come close to falling asleep while standing up sometimes. I may have a couple of days after the offload in town to catch up on some emails and news that happened over the past week while I was gone. I have some other work I have to do while I'm in town though that always seems to take up more time than necessary. I'm hoping for a clear morning, and a friend to be in town, and try to concur some of these hills that surround the docks, and bays. This island is so beautiful when the sun is out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It looks as if I may only head out for one more fishing trip before my cruise has to come to an end. I need to be back in Spokane in time for the glorious celebration that will be the Pyle wedding. Afterward, I will try and head right back up here to Alaska for another, longer contract. I could even be sent into the Pacific off the coast of Oregon and Washington fishing for Hake. We'll see. New water, new fishery, new ports . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for all the comments from those people that have started following the blog who happened upon it randomly. I am humbled that you find anything I have to say interesting or the least bit captivating. I greatly appreciate your emails and comments. It's very surprising every time to me to read a note left from someone I have never met who has become interested with what it is I do. If you have any questions about the blog, my job, or anything else, feel free to send me an email, or comment. I will get back to you when I get to port.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-509087290540645892?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/509087290540645892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=509087290540645892&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/509087290540645892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/509087290540645892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2009/02/rough-weather-days.html' title='Rough Weather Days'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-2283284508341864092</id><published>2009-01-27T23:14:00.000-09:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T23:16:37.170-09:00</updated><title type='text'>Held up in Unalaska/Dutch Harbor</title><content type='html'>Jan 24, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Due to the nature of this fishery I'm now in, it is unlikely to venture more than 12-16 hours from port and the cannery. There is no processing on board this time. The fish are actually stored in a "live tank" directly under the deck of the boat. When fishing is good, the boat could be filled up in 3 days of good tows. If fishing is not so good, and the fish are hiding, it will probably take closer to 5 or 6 days. There will be a lot more time spent inland at port this time around than last. There is rumor from the captain that we could held up in port for close to 5 days on the first offload. All that time I'll be getting paid the same as if I was at sea, but I'll be inland and probably spending money here and there. As nice as it will be to keep in touch much easier this time around, I was looking forward to the kind of isolation this job can provide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This boat fishes using a large net thrown out the back of the boat. It tows the net for 4 to 12 hours at a time depending on the density of the fish. A typical tow with yield close to 90 metric tons. I personally only deal with around 300 to 500 kgs of each tow. I work in a small area on deck away from the large net with my sampling tools. My responsibilities are to give an average weight of the target fish, and all the by catch as well. By catch is all the fish caught that is not the target fish. My job is to identify all the fish within my sample, give average weights and then take specimen samples from specific fish in order to help the fishery get a better picture of age, sex, weight, length, population, and area of population for the fish being caught in the fishery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that last paragraph gives you a better idea to exactly what it is that I do while I'm out at sea. Mostly I eat, sleep, watch movies, and read. There is a lot of down time, and I am left with a lot of time to think. Life is simple and straight forward. There are no social obligations. My day isn't planned around what is on TV that day. The biggest concern I have is to make sure to make a new pot of coffee if you drank the last drop. A mistake only made once. A side note, this boat has liquid creamer. A treat I did not enjoy on the last two boats. Liquid creamer was reserved for the Captain and mates use only. A stash I dipped into a couple of times when I was ballsy enough to ask, and they were generous enough to oblige.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you could imagine, the stressless life style of this job is extremely inviting. For me, it was a feeling acquired rather than innate. I've know a handful of people whom I trained with, who could not stand the weeks to months of silence from family, friends, and society. Those who have taken to this job, look forward to it. This week at sea, 3-5 days on land, then a week at sea followed by 3-5 days on land is rather annoying. Now having been at sea for 43 straight days, 21 or 30 doesn't seem so bad. It actually seems inviting. The one upside to being in and out of port so often, I can keep this blog more up to date. Something I know my parents will enjoy. This fishery is uneventful to say the least. So for this contract I think I will focus more on the island of Dutch Harbor and the history of the surrounding the different parts of the island. I will spending a lot of time on it, and I suspect I will run into a couple of characters here and there that will bring an interesting story. If you have an specific questions that I could answer, please ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-2283284508341864092?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/2283284508341864092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=2283284508341864092&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/2283284508341864092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/2283284508341864092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2009/01/held-up-in-unalaskadutch-harbor.html' title='Held up in Unalaska/Dutch Harbor'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-2108844254841876536</id><published>2009-01-27T17:33:00.000-09:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T10:48:54.530-09:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't call it a come back . . .</title><content type='html'>Sorry about the time passed since the last entry.  As soon as I hit land, I had a lot of catching up with life to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;November 8th was the last day of the fishing season.  I got off the boat after 43 days on board.  Said my goodbyes to a great crew and an awesome experience aboard a boat that I was apprehensive of when I first boarded.  The trip could not have gone better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the night of the 8th and the 9th in Dutch Harbor.  I ran into four friends from training and we ate, drank, and shared or stories of our first foray with our new career.  Each one of us had similar experiences, but in different parts of the Ocean.  We all had some unique experiences and pictures to show one another, and in Jason's case, incite some jealousy from the others with his pictures of Whales (Humpbacks and Killers) riding right next to the boat for over an hour. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all entered into this job looking for something adventurous.  All of us leaving or looking for, something different, yet the same.  6 of us from training in Anchorage met up again in Seattle after 2 1/2 months of the adventure and unknown that we had signed up for at the end of the Summer of 2008.  Every single one of us happy to be back on land with some money loitering in our previous bleak bank statements.  Each one us glad of the decisions we made to take a chance, head to Alaska to count fish for three straight months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I enjoyed showing off Seattle to my new friends who had never been to the Northwest before.  I spent three weeks in Seattle doing my debriefing.  During this process, I have to go over every single number that I had entered into the database to make sure there were no typos, miscalculations, or worse, miss identified fish.  This was a slow and tedious process, one that I was not prepared to have to endure.  But the process allowed for me to get paid while being in Seattle, in the U-district, free of charge, with some great friends of mine for 3 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all of the paperwork was combed through, it was off to Spokane to visit the city and friends I had left at the end of July.  I weathered all that mother nature threw at Spokane.  I was in Spokane for about 5 weeks.  I supposed to be back up in Alaska on the 29th of December to start my new contract, but due to all havoc that 6 inches of snow can bring to SeaTac airport, flights to Anchorage were canceled.  On top of that, there was/is a strike in the Pot Cod fishery.  My company was setting me up to board most of the fishing vessels that fish for Cod using Pots (just like the crab boats).  Once the strike hit, they didn't need me anymore, so the start of my new contract got pushed back to January 12th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a week of training in Seattle.  50-60 biologists learning about the new regulations and going over different ways to take our samples and do our jobs to better help the fishery service.  Pollock season starts January 20th.  So everyone of us headed out to Dutch after training to get aboard Pollock trawl boats.  This is where the boat fishes for Pollock using a giant net out the back.  The boat brings any where between 20-80 metric tons of fish aboard in one pull.  Pollock is the fish that is used in most food that is labeled "fish".  Fish sticks, filet-o-fish, fish and chips, even fake krab and filler for chicken mcnuggets use Pollock.  The pollock fishing fleet is the largest of the fishing fleets in Alaska. The fish is so abundant, they are more like a weed then they are a fish. Close to 48 % of the fish taken from the Bering Sea, by weight, in a year is Pollock.They are sexually mature at a very early age, and they produce a lot of fertilized eggs per breeding season.  The row of the Pollock is where all the money is made. The row is sold to Japan by the Kilo and seems to be in great demand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a board a catcher vessel delivers the catch to a plant to process.  No processing aboard the ship.  So the crew is considerably smaller then the last two boats I was on.  It's just me, the Captain, and three deck hands populating this 120-200 foot vessel.  So due to the nature of being a catcher vessel, the boat will only be out to sea for short trips then back into dock to offload.  The trips will only last 3-5 days.  A tad shorter then then the 21 and 43 day trips I endured last season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the start of the next season, and the beginning to a new year.  A completely new challenge working in a completely different fishery.  I've seen the Bering Sea before, so I'm coming at her with a little experience under my belt.  Although she'll be biting much harder this season.  It's winter.  "A" season.  Better fishing, against stronger weather.  Throw in some ice build up on the boat, ice formations in the sea, and 20 - 40 foot swells, and things get fun.  We'll see if its as bad as it's been made out to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-2108844254841876536?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/2108844254841876536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=2108844254841876536&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/2108844254841876536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/2108844254841876536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2009/01/dont-call-it-come-back.html' title='Don&apos;t call it a come back . . .'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-4027247122688047458</id><published>2008-11-08T15:06:00.000-09:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T15:07:37.392-09:00</updated><title type='text'>November Duce</title><content type='html'>November 2nd&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired.  Every day is the same.  How long I work and at what time changes, but the work is the same, counting fish.  What's for lunch and dinner changes, but food is running out and Rueben is having to get creative, or just give out fried foods.  Chicken or fish and rice, no matter how good it is, you can only have so many days in a row.  The boat didn't expect to still be fishing.  They though they would be home by Halloween, and we still another week maybe yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun isn't rising until 10:30, and then it sets by 4:00.  All though, each are pretty epic on the clear days.  But even those, getting lost in a daze opportunities,  are becoming mundane.  I've run through all the books I've brought with me.  I took some music from the mate a month ago, and I've gone through all of that.  I was saved by finding a book hiding in a nook in my stateroom.  That was two days ago, and I'm almost through with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is day 38 . . . day 38 . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days ago, on Halloween, two of the deck hands made makeshift halloween costumes.  Something I had thought about doing, but lost motivation after finding little materials to construct my idea of a fish cop.  One made a mask out of card board and the other wrapped himself in toilet paper.  They then went trick or treating (or as my Vietnamese friend says it, "crick and greet" at least thats what I thought he was saying until I told him the real phrase) to the cooks room, for he was  the only one on board with any candy left.  And then it was back to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These guys have been out here now for over 3 months, and some are staying for another 3 weeks after the season ends.  Then they all come back for the next season that starts right after Christmas, for another 6 to 10 weeks.  Then they are off 'til August.  But a mix of weird hunger cravings, homesickness, caffein and nicotine withdrawals, and cabin fever has some of the crew stirring and acting a little senile. The older horses are just tired and draggin'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the sun is out though, the boat gets hit with a shot of adrenaline.  In an instant, the work picks up, fish seem to start biting, and factory ipod seems to being playing all the right songs to sing a long to.  Then the sun sets and the air becomes bitter cold with a breeze.  Like someone flushed the toilet while you were in the middle of applying your shampoo in the shower, only the hot water doesn't return and you stay wet until the shift is over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as this Groundhog day of a life that we live is getting to me, the cook brings out white cake with white frosting and sprinkles.  Oh was it good.  Life is delicious on a boat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moral of this story, never underestimate the power of cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-4027247122688047458?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/4027247122688047458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=4027247122688047458&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/4027247122688047458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/4027247122688047458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/11/november-duce.html' title='November Duce'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-2649542460230478625</id><published>2008-11-08T15:04:00.000-09:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T15:06:39.833-09:00</updated><title type='text'>The Grind</title><content type='html'>Week 4 with 3 left.  It's starting to feel like it'll never end.  The guys on this boat have been out here for 3 months now.  3 months straight away from family.  More and more of the guys are starting to spend more money on the satellite phone in the wheel house to call home.  I was asked yesterday by three different individuals if I had a girl back home.  I could tell in each of their eyes that they weren't just making conversation, they needed to talk.  It was obvious in the demeanor and tone in their voice as they asked.  They ask only because the one back home is weighting too much on their mind.  So of course I said no, and ask them about who it was that was back home.  These men were expecting to be home by late October and home for Halloween, but here it is, Oct. 26, and three weeks of the grind still in front of them.  They just needed a quick minute or two to talk to someone about how beautiful their woman is back home.  How trust worthy this one is.  How they wont make the same mistakes with this girl in their life.  I barley know these men, but at these times of loneliness and racked with boardem, they divulge the most tender parts of their past to anyone who'll listen.  Of course I oblige.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emotions are going to play a vital roll in the weeks ahead while the hours and days seem to go on forever with no end in sight.  The boat didn't expect to be out at sea near as long as it is going to be so some things are going to be getting scarce.  Food is starting to run out.  Last night was the final Taco night for the rest of the trip.  No more milk or liquid coffee creamer.  It may be just Cod, rice and bread for the final week.  The more pressing issue is the slimming supply of cigarets.  Yesterday, the 2/3rd's of the boat that smokes started to realize that the boat is almost out.  Maybe a week left of cigarettes.  That will be two weeks with emotion filled seaman ready to go home weeks ago, with nicotine withdrawals, tired of fish and rice for dinner.  Tempers are sure to flare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It looks like my commitment may end sooner than I expected.  This boat maybe part of the last fleet of boats out fishing.  That means I'll be back in Seattle close to November 15 - 20.  Of course I wont post this until I get there.  Unlike these guys, I'm wanting the fishing to extend as long as possible so that I don't get stuck heading out on another boat on a quick week long trip or something.  I like this boat and the guys aboard.  I want to end my first contract with these guys.  So we'll see what happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll see you when I see you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-2649542460230478625?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/2649542460230478625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=2649542460230478625&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/2649542460230478625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/2649542460230478625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/11/grind.html' title='The Grind'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-495442276264291653</id><published>2008-11-08T15:03:00.002-09:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T15:04:36.232-09:00</updated><title type='text'>One Hand for the Boat</title><content type='html'>Physically I'm not made to live on a boat.  True there are taller people, and there are heavier people aboard the boat, but I feel like a giant among the small living quarters.  The door ways to all rooms hit me at eye brow level, the shower head hits me square in the chest, and the bed stretches exactly from my heel to point of my head.  The factory that I walk through every day has pipes and beams draping at 6 feet high along with pipes and chutes that I need to step and jump over on my way to my sampling port hole.  The weather picked up a little yesterday, not much, just enough to make a person sway a little more, and concentrate harder on each step.  So yesterday I was carrying a basket full of fish to be put in the discard chute out to sea, when I smacked my head, and it dropped me straight to the floor.  I bang my head, arm, and legs all day walking through that factory, none of them had been as bad as that one though.  I'm close to wearing a hard hat.  I'm not the only one tall enough to take advantage of the height of the beams, but I seem to hit my head harder then the rest.  There is motto while on a boat, always keep one hand free for the boat.  Words to take stock in.  Words I forget and remember daily.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-  Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-495442276264291653?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/495442276264291653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=495442276264291653&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/495442276264291653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/495442276264291653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/11/one-hand-for-boat.html' title='One Hand for the Boat'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-7082105592641584379</id><published>2008-11-08T15:03:00.001-09:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T15:03:40.133-09:00</updated><title type='text'>The Naturalist</title><content type='html'>I really like working with this crew.  I've been able to joke around and they don't see me as a fish cop anymore.  Everyone has their job to do, I don't interfere with theirs, and they all seem to understand mine pretty well.  I'm not here to enforce laws, that's the coast guards duty.  I'm not here to interpret the laws, I'm not versed well enough to do that.  I'm here to take down catch data and take some specimen samples of the catch.  I realized a couple days ago that I am doing essentially the same thing all the early naturalists did when they boarded fishing and cargo vessels heading into the ocean.  They were aboard as a guest paid by the Queen and King to find and discover new plants, animals, or drugs across the global in the name of King and Country.  There was a lot of money to be made in bringing back a flower, or fruit producing plant that was not grown in Europe but could be cultivated.  These science nerds rode aboard the vessels, with all their literature, paperwork, drawings, specimen samples dispersed all over their stateroom, much like I've got going on.  A job separate from the rest of the crew, and essentially treated like the government aboard the ship.  They could be on these voyages for years at a time.  Darwin's infamous trip to the Galapagos was one of these parliamentary sponsored trips  that his uncle set up for him when he was collegiate aged to keep him out of trouble.  The doctor in the movie Captain and Commander was naturalist as well if you remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've taken this kind of personality while on board, while interacting with the crew.  Any of you who asked me a science question only to be board out of you mind with my 30 minute ramble of a response, knows that I can get really excited about explaining how things work when I know a little bit about it.  You also know that I am excited to tell it to anyone who wants to listen, (or even pretends to listen).  Well I have a captive audience most days as I'm watching and tallying the fish as they come aboard.  So needless  to say, I've been in my "Bill Nye the Science Guy" mode with this crew.  It's been a lot of fun.  It's only been 8 days, so I haven't rambled enough to bore them with it yet, it'll probably happen soon.  Besides, I'll run out of material soon enough.  The fishermen who have been out here doing this for a long time, have really taught me more about the fish specifically then did any of my trainers.  The fish habitat, how they migrate, where they live, what temperature of water is best, how the full moon plays a role in the catch, when they breed, how often they breed, how old they get, how the smallest change in barometric pressure affects the size of the catch.  Absorbing their knowledge and experience as their eyes tell the story of many with vigor, I can't help but get caught up in it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I started this, I couldn't tell you the difference between a trout and a salmon, or be able to pick them out of line up.  I was what is known in the Science world, as a pipette jockey; working with microorganisms, and lab educated.  It's been a lot of fun being able to switch from one discipline of biology to the other.  This has given me a greater perspective of the biological world I've only been able to gaze at on the Discover and Science channel.  I think for the next adventure and change of perspective, I should choose a warmer climate, and maybe on dry land?  Novel idea, don't you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-7082105592641584379?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/7082105592641584379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=7082105592641584379&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/7082105592641584379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/7082105592641584379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/11/naturalist.html' title='The Naturalist'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-565859832717041477</id><published>2008-11-08T15:02:00.000-09:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T15:03:00.663-09:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 7</title><content type='html'>Day 7&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to lose my wonderment of the ravine called The Bering Sea.  It's become the backdrop to life out at sea.  It doesn't become a notable participant of life at sea until it wants to be noticed.  I'm starting to see fish everywhere.  I see them in my dreams, I see it for dinner, I see fish in the grain of the wood in the top bunk above my head as I try to sleep.  I've been on the boat for 5 days, and life is already starting to become mundane.  Days run into one another with no relative since of the end of one and the beginning of the next.  When you live and work in a 24 hour factory, with no shut down time, I get the feeling that I'm missing something I am supposed to be watching if I sleep for too long.  My mind is always preoccupied with something that is or could be going on that I'm missing because I'm asleep that my boss will wonder why I was sleeping instead of paying attention to this or that.  I enjoy paranoia latent dreams in which I awake from wide eyed and with a rush of adrenaline.  This wears off in about 30 minutes but is replaced with coffee. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hours turn into days, days into weeks, weeks into months and those months pile up turning our years forward one peg at a time.  At sea it feels as if this process momentarily put on hold.  There is no element to judge the change of one day to the next (besides the amount of fish caught) except the rise and fall of the Sun.  We all work shifts in which that doesn't determine the start or end of our individual day.  Most days there is no sun, only light escaping the ominous overcast of layers of clouds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This anxiousness of returning to a world that has been changing day to day is creeping in.  How am I going to catch up to this change by the time I get back.  Like I said before, everything is relative towards life out on a boat for months at a time.  But at some point we all get off the boat and return home.  We'll return to a world that has changed from Summer to Fall, and Fall will be transitioning into Winter.  It's a lot like what I would expect the day in and day out repetitious nature of being in the military to be, obviously without the gun fire and imminent threat of death.  There is constant conversation about how their money is already spent in their mind, who'll they'll see, what their wife (usually ex-wife) or girlfriend looks like, what they plan on doing before signing up for their next tour.  These men have decided to put life at home on hold for 3 to 7 months of the year in order to make the plump take home wage that spurs them to sign the contract.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't do what they do, knowing that my family is going on with a normal day.  Around half of the year is spent away from your family at one time.  I guess it's no different for a traveling salesman, but his time is spent gone in short chunks verses multiple months at one time.  The captain was telling me that after one four month trip, his son had grown 6 inches and he missed his boys driver test and his first high school dance in those 4 months.  They all have the same sadness in their eyes as they speak of home.  Most of the conversations are the same, they start with words of pride about who they are providing for back home, the house, the toys, all the time off, and the life they have when they get home.  Then the conversation shifts towards the little things and big things they are missing while living the life of a fisherman.  Their eyes fill with reverence when they start referring to home, but their words are spoken with a melancholy tone.  Yet the conversations always end explaining to me, and reiterating to themselves, they make more money here then they could at in the jobs they could get at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-565859832717041477?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/565859832717041477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=565859832717041477&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/565859832717041477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/565859832717041477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/11/day-7.html' title='Day 7'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-5250964198400975647</id><published>2008-11-08T15:01:00.000-09:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T15:02:06.156-09:00</updated><title type='text'>Start of Boat #2</title><content type='html'>9-27-08&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day one on boat number deuce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was the first day of fishing.  The crew was fighting cabin fever after being stuck in town for the last week from a multitude of problems with this old vessel.  This girl is older then the last boat I was on.  She was used in the WWI and WWII as a fueling vessel.  I've found out most of these fishing boats are hold overs and turn-arounds from war time marvels of the industrial age in this country.  She was turned into a fishing boat 25 years ago, and there isn't much new to her since then.  This crew is much more experienced then the last group of cats.  They are much more crass, tattooed, and consist of the personalties that I expected to work with.  This type of fishing is much easier for me to do my job, but also consists of more concentration combined with less physical work.  It's essential having a couple of funny crew members around to bust balls with that can break up the staleness of continuous counting for hours.  I think I'll fit in well here.  Then again it is day one of probably 30 . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cook here is Latino from San Diego.  It'll be 30 days of mexican food.  Luckily for the crew members they had the for sight to put me in my own stateroom.  He is a funny guy, and I'm too gullible, he will be making fun of me for awhile until I can figure out if he is messing with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was such a beautiful day out today.  The clearest sky I've seen since leaving Spokane.  So beautiful.  The boat was riding right towards an Island range with Mt. Pavlof staring at us down the bow of the boat.  I got some good pictures of it.  I have a port hole on the starboard side of the boat to watch and do my counting, and the Island was on my horizon for most of the day.  Found it hard to work and not stare.  Thats the type of views I expected to see coming out here.  Incredible.  I don't own a camera to do it justice, its sad.  But there is going to be a great sun set, and maybe a clear night for the stars.  This boat also prints of the Washington Post and the NYC Times every morning.  This little port hole into the world that is passing us by as we are out here hunting fish may keep my anxiety of having the election, bail out, and collapse of the treasury pass me by.  I get to drink coffee and read the news every day.  That is such a welcoming thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-5250964198400975647?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/5250964198400975647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=5250964198400975647&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/5250964198400975647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/5250964198400975647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/11/start-of-boat-2.html' title='Start of Boat #2'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-1628845858530366426</id><published>2008-11-08T14:58:00.000-09:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T15:01:02.845-09:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 5</title><content type='html'>Day 5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After two boats, I've come to the realization that the cook can only be an allay, I am never going to want to be on the cooks bad side.  Ruben is this boats cook.  Mexican born, living now in San Diego.  We chatted for a good hour today, well he spoke his broken english, searching for words that he knew and I would understand, and I spoke in broken english searching for words he knew and would understand.  I don't have the patients to do that for too long, no matter how nice the guy is.  But for dinner tonight, pizza.  I may have dropped a hit that the food I missed the most from the main land was pizza.  Hand made pizza too, not frozen pizzas.  I haven't found the ice cream yet, but give me a week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hail to the Victors.  I love that we get the news on this boat.  I was able to see that the might Big Blue came from behind to beat Wisconsin on Saturday.  It'll be a rough year, an other reason I decided to leave TV behind and work out here during the fall.  I couldn't bare to watch Rich Rod change the tradition of Michigan football.  I give him three years there before his head will be called for.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-1628845858530366426?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/1628845858530366426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=1628845858530366426&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/1628845858530366426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/1628845858530366426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/11/day-5.html' title='Day 5'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-4256075270233580217</id><published>2008-09-24T21:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T22:00:44.684-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nomad Between Boats</title><content type='html'>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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-4256075270233580217?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/4256075270233580217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=4256075270233580217&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/4256075270233580217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/4256075270233580217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/09/nomad-between-boats.html' title='Nomad Between Boats'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-3806524232070368776</id><published>2008-09-24T21:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T21:35:34.229-08:00</updated><title type='text'>9-23-08</title><content type='html'>9-23-08   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-3806524232070368776?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/3806524232070368776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=3806524232070368776&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/3806524232070368776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/3806524232070368776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/09/9-23-08.html' title='9-23-08'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-4684477985605273488</id><published>2008-09-24T21:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T21:34:38.897-08:00</updated><title type='text'>9-21-08</title><content type='html'>9-21-08&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-4684477985605273488?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/4684477985605273488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=4684477985605273488&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/4684477985605273488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/4684477985605273488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/09/9-21-08.html' title='9-21-08'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-3017620280894655096</id><published>2008-09-24T21:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T21:33:16.785-08:00</updated><title type='text'>9-19-08</title><content type='html'>9-19-08       &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-3017620280894655096?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/3017620280894655096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=3017620280894655096&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/3017620280894655096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/3017620280894655096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/09/9-19-08.html' title='9-19-08'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-8828932040593460415</id><published>2008-09-24T21:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T21:31:54.064-08:00</updated><title type='text'>9-17-08</title><content type='html'>9-17-08       &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-8828932040593460415?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/8828932040593460415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=8828932040593460415&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/8828932040593460415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/8828932040593460415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/09/9-17-08.html' title='9-17-08'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-7216627648194675173</id><published>2008-09-24T21:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T21:30:41.562-08:00</updated><title type='text'>9-15-08</title><content type='html'>9-15-08   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-7216627648194675173?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/7216627648194675173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=7216627648194675173&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/7216627648194675173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/7216627648194675173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/09/9-15-08.html' title='9-15-08'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-5937585251148174441</id><published>2008-09-24T21:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T21:27:38.666-08:00</updated><title type='text'>9-13-08</title><content type='html'>9-13-08&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; - Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-5937585251148174441?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/5937585251148174441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=5937585251148174441&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/5937585251148174441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/5937585251148174441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/09/9-13-08.html' title='9-13-08'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-2470911601872319111</id><published>2008-09-24T21:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T21:26:26.917-08:00</updated><title type='text'>9-11-08</title><content type='html'>9-11-08&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-  Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-2470911601872319111?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/2470911601872319111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=2470911601872319111&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/2470911601872319111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/2470911601872319111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/09/9-11-08.html' title='9-11-08'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-1127845174914910378</id><published>2008-09-24T21:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T21:24:53.351-08:00</updated><title type='text'>9-9-08</title><content type='html'>9-9-08&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-1127845174914910378?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/1127845174914910378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=1127845174914910378&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/1127845174914910378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/1127845174914910378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/09/9-9-08.html' title='9-9-08'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-1099811395772036162</id><published>2008-09-24T21:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T21:23:37.494-08:00</updated><title type='text'>9-6-08</title><content type='html'>9-6-08&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; -  Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-1099811395772036162?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/1099811395772036162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=1099811395772036162&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/1099811395772036162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/1099811395772036162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/09/9-6-08.html' title='9-6-08'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-1822410607483918083</id><published>2008-09-24T21:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T21:16:59.866-08:00</updated><title type='text'>9-3-08</title><content type='html'>9-3-08&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-1822410607483918083?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/1822410607483918083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=1822410607483918083&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/1822410607483918083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/1822410607483918083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/09/9-3-08.html' title='9-3-08'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-2068675470406143456</id><published>2008-09-24T21:12:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T21:15:06.162-08:00</updated><title type='text'>9-2-08</title><content type='html'>9-2-08&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-2068675470406143456?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/2068675470406143456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=2068675470406143456&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/2068675470406143456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/2068675470406143456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/09/9-2-08.html' title='9-2-08'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-4862300633691581664</id><published>2008-09-03T09:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T12:41:36.904-08:00</updated><title type='text'>St. Paul or Bust</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 4&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will back on line before you know it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-  Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-4862300633691581664?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/4862300633691581664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=4862300633691581664&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/4862300633691581664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/4862300633691581664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/09/st-paul-or-bust.html' title='St. Paul or Bust'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-556119781900492422</id><published>2008-08-30T07:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T08:28:00.611-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Into the AK</title><content type='html'>It is the morning of the 30th of August, and these are my last hours in Anchorage.  A cab is coming to pick me up at 9:30 to take me to the airport.  I have my boat assignment, and by 8pm Pacific, I'll be on a boat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm the first one of the group to leave.  Everyone else got their first boats also, but some of them aren't leaving until Tuesday.  And even then, their boat doesn't get into to port of a couple of days after that.  I wish I had some extra time and money in Anchorage to go see more of the outlining areas to this city, but that is the nature of this job.  I am pretty much on call 24-7 for the next 90 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not flying into Dutch Harbor any more.  Plans changed and I'm getting on a boat at St. Paul Island in the middle of the Bering Sea.  When I say in the middle of the Bering Sea, I don't mean that it's part of the Aleutian Islands.  This island is out by it's self with St. George Island about a day and a half by fishing boat north of Dutch Harbor and the Aleutian Islands.  This island is only inhabited because the the Russian fur trade.  The Russians kidnapped a lot of natives from Alaska and put them on this island to kill Alaskan Fur Seals and ship them back to Russia.  This island is a big breeding ground for the Alaskan Fur Seal.  After the US put a stop to the slaughtering of the fur seals, no one bothered to take the natives home from the island.  So they remained there and set up home and now they just considered it their little island.  There are only around 500 people who live on St. Paul, 130 of which are students.  The island is flat with no trees what so ever.  Where Dutch Harbor has a lot of great hiking trails and beautiful scenery, and is a major fishing port, St. Paul is full of natives who got left on a island full of Fur Seals that they can't hurt with no mountains, no trees, and whipping winds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, this island is not a huge desstination point for the tourists of Alaska.  I am expecting there to be some where in the neighborhood of 1 to 10 people to be on my 4 hour flight.  The airport in St. Paul is right next to the port.  I will walk off my little prop airplane right over to the dock with my army surplus duffel bag, backpack, and NMFS issued sampling gear.  I am going to stick out like a sore thumb.  There I'll be, sitting at the dock with my feet dangling in the water, waving my hand wildly, with my ear to ear welcoming grin, thrown across my face as the boat comes into to port to pick up their biologist, (I officaly can use the title biologist now, it feels awesome).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boat I'll be on is an old crab boat, about 30 feet larger than the Northwestern, the one seen on the Deadliest Catch.  They'll be using the same crab pots you see on that show, only I'll be on their while they're fishing Pacific Cod.  It's going to be little compared the 300 foot floating factories most of the other people in my company are getting deployed to.  I am happy I'm not get on one of those boats.  On those you are just standing in front of a conveyor belt in the heated, dry factory, during a 12 hour work period, pulling off anything that isn't Pollock, (which isn't much).  I get to be on the deck the entire time with the crew, sampling at sea.  I'll have my own little station away from them so I don't get in their way.  The catch is usually pretty clean, so I wont have to sort through a bunch of fish other than Pacific Cod, but there is a good chance that I am going to have to sort through a bunch of crab.  They are not allowed to keep the crab until crab season.  This is an old boat that doesn't fish for anything but crab unless they need the cash.  The crew doesn't make near the money they do catching fish instead of crab, so I'm not expecting a jubilant crew to work with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really excited, and extremely nervous as the minutes tick down until the cabby gets here.  I wont be able to have access to internet for a while, maybe a month or more.  The boat will be out for around 2 weeks at a time maybe longer, maybe shorter, and if we unload at St. Paul, then I won't have access their either, and then it's right back on the same boat for another 2 weeks or so depending.  So this will be my last message for awhile.  I would like to say I apprecate all the support and comments from all of you that have been reading this.  It makes me feel less isolated from the from the people that I care most about.  This blog gives me a chance to tell long winded stories about mundane things, or about the little things that get me excited like the planet walk.  Please keep leaving me comments and writing me emails while I am away at sea.  I wont get to read them for awhile, but it will make me feel like the world didn't forget about me for the last month to two months.  I am humbled by the amount of truly good people have surrounded me in my life.  I didn't fully realize this until I chose to make the journey into the AK, how many there were and how well you all support and care about me.  I have gained a lot from this experience already, but I want you all to know that I miss being in Spokane surrounded by the people who made smile and made all the little things in life joyous.   I do not know when I will make it back there next, but when I do, I will make sure that it is known to all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit here in Anchorage, blessed and honored to have been apart of all the lives of the people I have come across.  You have given me the confidence in my self to know that I am strong enough to take on a challenge such as being on a boat full of crazy old fishermen.  Strong enough to know that I'll be able to keep my integrity in any situation that presents its self, because I am secure with who I am.  And I attribute that to all the people I have surrounded myself with and who have presented themselves to me over the last 25 years.  I look forward to hearing about your lives when I get back to dry land so please feel free to write to me about anything and everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always leave one hand free for the boat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I go, into the AK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SLlyN53jHSI/AAAAAAAAACQ/wQwmwvwTcDM/s1600-h/Photo+7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 388px; height: 290px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SLlyN53jHSI/AAAAAAAAACQ/wQwmwvwTcDM/s400/Photo+7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240345224619957538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS. I will sleep cuddled up with my emergency suit mom.  You can sleep well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-556119781900492422?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/556119781900492422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=556119781900492422&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/556119781900492422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/556119781900492422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/08/into-ak.html' title='Into the AK'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SLlyN53jHSI/AAAAAAAAACQ/wQwmwvwTcDM/s72-c/Photo+7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-8586121978884411545</id><published>2008-08-26T21:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T22:21:18.550-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Planet walk</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SLTq5vIZ6PI/AAAAAAAAABY/9SpiN5PykTk/s1600-h/IMGP0170.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 406px; height: 316px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SLTq5vIZ6PI/AAAAAAAAABY/9SpiN5PykTk/s400/IMGP0170.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239070544163891442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I went for a walk one day after class with my Ipod and ran into this downtown Anchorage.  A giant Sun.  Naturally my curiosity spiked and I had to see what the heck this was.  Next to this sun is a Kiosk of information on the solar system.  Ameditly I thought to myself, "This is my kind of town."  It only gets better, or nerdier depending on the size of your inner science nerd, there is something called a light year walk through downtown Anchorage and around the bay.  Here's how it works, if you walk at a normal pace you will reach each planet in the amount of minutes it takes for the light of the sun to reach the planet.  Exciting, I know.  Also, the planets are constructed in their relative size to that of the Sun and each other.  Did I mention this is my kind of city.  I made my way to Mars which is at the end of the downtown area and leads you to a trail around Turnagain Arm which is the bay on the outside part of the city.  I had already been out for awhile, and I walked down the trail for a bit, but had to turn around to get back to do some homework.  The trail takes you all the way around the bay to a look out point right where Pluto would be, 11 miles away from downtown.  One of the many paved trails around the outside of the city.  There is more paved trails within the county limits of Anchorage than any other county in the USA.  This little innovation to get tourists to see more of the trails, makes my inner science nerd smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SLTxaWC_5rI/AAAAAAAAABg/yaADVU_PD0o/s1600-h/IMGP0171.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SLTxaWC_5rI/AAAAAAAAABg/yaADVU_PD0o/s400/IMGP0171.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239077701435778738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-8586121978884411545?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/8586121978884411545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=8586121978884411545&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/8586121978884411545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/8586121978884411545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/08/planet-walk.html' title='Planet walk'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SLTq5vIZ6PI/AAAAAAAAABY/9SpiN5PykTk/s72-c/IMGP0170.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-7256869225035811721</id><published>2008-08-23T18:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T00:30:12.211-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wondering Where the Lions Are</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SLJs0ubFEoI/AAAAAAAAABI/hL2_1zbXW3U/s1600-h/IMGP0173.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SLJs0ubFEoI/AAAAAAAAABI/hL2_1zbXW3U/s400/IMGP0173.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238368969655915138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... Had another dream about lions at the door. They were not as fighting as they were before, some kind of ecstasy got a hold on me ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SLJtBJPSvyI/AAAAAAAAABQ/DnNa1aijzsI/s1600-h/IMGP0176.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SLJtBJPSvyI/AAAAAAAAABQ/DnNa1aijzsI/s400/IMGP0176.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238369183012667170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a stress filled week with tests to pass, but I've been walking around with a gigantic smile on my face.  This city, this state, has a feel to it that I can't put my finger on, but it makes me feel happy.  I haven't been able to hike really at all.  I've been too busy, or the plans just didn't line up right.  That's alright.  There is going to be plenty of things left for me to explore when I get up here in December before my next deployment to Dutch.  I've been talking with a couple of the other cats I'm training with to see if we can get up here a week or a couple of days early so that we can take the train in the winter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We wondered into the tourist center one day as we walked past it on the way home from dinner.  We spent the next 45 minutes or so talking and plotting adventures with both of the ladies that work the desk there.  They stayed like 20 minutes after closing to tell us places off the beaten path of the tourist adventures and told stories that made our mouths water and our adventurous bones quiver.  Things like guided glacier climbing and camping, snow shoeing to the glaciers, and the main attraction being the train that goes from Anchorage to Sweard to the South, and Anchorage to Fairbanks to the north.  One of the ladies told us that it is completely different in the winter.  The train travels through the mountains, and you travel into parts of the AK that you could never get to with a car.  She also told us that is also the only train in the US that is still a whistle train, which means that at any point on the tracks and at every train station, the train is flagged down and will stop to let people on.  She took the train north one weekend in the winter and there were campers who were flagging down the train in the middle of nowhere.  Some of them had been lost, while others planed out ahead of time they were going to hike in one direction and camp until they reached the train tracks and hop on.  I don't think I'm down with that, but from everything I've heard, its worth four times as much as they charge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far this experience has giving me nothing but great and exciting opportunities.  I've met more fun loving and like minded people then I have met in a long time.  It leaves me wondering where the lions are?  When am I going to see the rub?  What's the catch? I'll probably see the lions once I get to Dutch Harbor.  But the more and more we train, and get to learn about all the other opportunities that come with this job, I'm going to be in a postion to see things that will have always wanted to, but probably never would without this job.  I'm not sure if I'm really going to see this as a job.  Maybe it'll be more like a ride-a-long you can do with a police officer, only I'm doing it with fishing boats in the Bearing, while doing collecting samples for research on the side.  There will be times when the work is really difficult, and times when it is simpler.  There will be times when the sea is rough, and times when it is calm.  But the time out on the boat will never be same as it would have been stuck in a lab 8 to 10 hours a day with no widows and the only light being the neon ones above me.  Where getting to wear a lab coat as a uniform was the only perk.  I may have left the lions back in Spokane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS. The top picture is of the city of anchorage on an overcast day from flat top, and the other one is the green covered mountains that surround the city to the water&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-7256869225035811721?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/7256869225035811721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=7256869225035811721&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/7256869225035811721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/7256869225035811721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/08/wondering-where-lions-are.html' title='Wondering Where the Lions Are'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/SLJs0ubFEoI/AAAAAAAAABI/hL2_1zbXW3U/s72-c/IMGP0173.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-4016591691930150268</id><published>2008-08-22T18:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T19:06:29.132-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Survivor: SaltWater vs. AOI</title><content type='html'>I live in a bunk house in Downtown Anchorage with the 8 people I am training with, but there are other bunk houses in this complex. There are 3 other bunk houses which are all occupied by observers and observers in training employed by another company, SaltWater. The are nice people, but they aren't as close as the 8 of us, and looking around the class of all the other companies, I'm really glad that I got put with these kids. It kind of feels like we are in compition with the SaltWater company because we live right next to each other. There is some mingleing with them, but all of us would rather hangout with our group. Come the weekend, everyone hangs out, but during the week its AOI vs. SaltWater.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    This last week was extremely busy and nerve recking. In this training, we each have to pass each test with an 80% or better or we have to get a ticket home. This happened to 3 of the 26 in the class, all SaltWater kids, making each one of us realize that it could happen to us as well, and got us to start buckling down more. I've been up the last three nights until 1 doing reading and homework. I feel confident in my ability to do the job once I get out there on sea. The hardest part of the training is learning how to fill out all the paperwork to the specifications that we need to. This will become second nature in some time, but it needs to be immaculate as soon as I deploy. We are being drilled on how to fill these sheets out so that all the number crunchers on land who have never been on the boats, know what it is we are giving them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Today a professor from the University of Alaska Fairbanks came into class and gave a three hour lecture on how to identify all the marine mammals found here in Alaska's seas. I was on the edge of my seat for all three hours getting excited about all the critters that I've seen on the discovery channel or Plant Earth. My mind was wondering for the three hours about the chance I have to get see them up close. She was showing us all these pictures taken by observers and data taken by the observers on the boats about where different whales, sea lions, dolphins, polar bears, seals, and birds we'll see out at sea. She showed us video of a sperm whale eating the fish caught on a long fishing line that is trailing behind the boat. There is a good chance we'll get to see three different types of seals, three different types of Albatrosses,  Beluga whales, lots of killer whales, along with dolphins and porpoises. We are going to be expected identify all interactions with all the marine mammals with the boat in order to help give better information to the regulating agencies about the interaction of the Alaska fishing industry and their competition with these marine mammals with their food source. But more importantly, there is not a lot of research done on the mammals in the arctic compared to those in tropical, warm areas for obvious reasons of scientist rather living in the tropics then in the arctic. So our job is to try and add some info to the what has been collected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    There were some observers who came in the bunk house last night that have been working for AOI for a couple of years. It was great to talk to them to get a better idea of what we are getting our selfs into. The three of them were coming into Anchorage to get their fall deployment. They all had taken the last 3 months of summer off and were coming back to work through the winter. They were showing pictures they had taken off all the seals, whales, and cool things on the boats they had seen in their time out there. Hopefully I get so lucky. The guy that came in told us that most of the observers out there are female, its like a 60/40 ratio, so the fishermen are a little upset when they see a guy jumping on the boat to be the observer rather than a female. They told us not to worry about the fishermen getting upset about having to have us on the boat, they haven't really ran into jerks. I kind of figured this would be the case, but it was nice to hear some confirmation on this feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    After talking to the priers all night, I got re-motivated about what it is that I'm getting prepared to do. All this training is important and this opportunity is one of a kind. I'm still loving this city of Anchorage, and it's upsetting me that I am not getting a chance to explore out side the city. The city is just a city like any other smaller city. What makes this city is what is outside the city. I need to climb some of these mountains before I ship to Dutch in 7 days. Next week is going to be much more laid back, but the final test is Thursday. That test is the same in that we need to get an 80%, or all of this training is for nothing. No one is leaving from AOI, no man left behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; - Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-4016591691930150268?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/4016591691930150268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=4016591691930150268&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/4016591691930150268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/4016591691930150268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/08/survivor-saltwater-vs-aoi.html' title='Survivor: SaltWater vs. AOI'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-9092792357941301458</id><published>2008-08-14T21:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T22:11:13.369-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Vacation is Almost Over</title><content type='html'>All the newbie Observers and I  have been locked up in our small little bunk house since Monday with readings and homework. Taking only an hour for dinner some where local and within walking distance, and then back to the bunkhouse for reading and homework sheets. I had to get out. So Wednesday night I quickly started with my homework right after class, and got it done before 9:00 for the first time since I'd been here. I talked one of my new friends in the house to come with me to an ale house that had a local band playing last night. Local beer, old people dancing to cover songs and songs that sound like cover songs, and meeting new people from around the world who came here for all different reasons. And then I remembered my buddy from Lewiston, Joey D "remix" was going to be in town sometime this week driving threw on his way to Montana. To my luck, Joey D was sitting around in his hotel room in Anchorage needing a beer. Joey D, Mark, and Myself started our journey to relaxing with a local, cold brew and meeting some people sitting next to the bar. For those of you who know Joey D, you know how the night went; great one liners from out of now where, and questions of whether of not I think the band will let him play the tambourine. I miss the kid a ton. He was one his way from Kodak Island to Kalisbell, Montana. I wish him and his wife Jordan the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    This city is so beautiful. Actually, the city is just a city with a lot of public drunkenness at all times of the day. There are more homeless and wondering people then I expected. I was told on the plane to be prepared to see that, but its true. What makes this city so breath taking is the surrounding areas of the city. It takes 15 to 20 minutes by car from downtown to get out side the city and to a peak that overlooks the entire city of Anchorage with a view of Mt. McKinley, and the two inlets that surround the city, Turnagain Arm and Kink Arm. At most points in Turnagain Arm, the water is only 30 feet of so deep. At low tide you can almost walk across it. There are so many hiking trails and endless mountains to climb. You could be here for a month with nothing to do but scale the outside of Anchorage and surrounding cities, and still find things to come back to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    I didn't go, but 5 of the other new hires went on a train ride from Anchorage to Seward which is 2 and half hours by car, but 4 glorious hours by train. They told me that the viewing cars were pretty much all windows and you were riding the train through mountain sides to a glacier park. They took of their shoes and had to walk across part of the glacier to get to the other side of the trail. The pictures they brought back have some of the most amazing blues and whites inside the snow caps and glaciers. There are multiple hiking trails that take you the tops of all sorts of cliffs and mountain ranges and glacier sites. All of them want to go back next weekend just to go on some of the trails they couldn't last Saturday. There is also this canoe trip that is available during the Beluga whale season where you canoe along side the whales through these glacial caverns. I am going to have to find a way to do that at some point during my break between contracts and time spent in Dutch Harbor or the  Bearing Sea. It's the ability to do something so grand as canoe with Beluga whales that makes this place magical for a science nerd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    It hit me the other day that in less then two weeks I'm going to be flying out to Dutch Harbor and not leaving there until late November. All these great friends I've now met, I'm going to have to say good-bye to because there is no knowing if I'll see them in Dutch or back in Anchorage or Seattle for our debriefing right before Thanksgiving. For the past week, this has kind of felt like a vacation with some school thrown in. Now it's finally starting to feel like a job and suddenly I am reminded why they have to pay this much money to get someone to come to this great city. 2 and a half months of near solitude are in the near future. I was ready for it before, I'll be ready for it again. Only I didn't expect to meet the people I did here in Anchorage. I didn't expect that I would leave something behind here before going the job I flew here for. From the local people who treated me so kindly, and the few that I would call a friend, to my new room mates who are all different but make our 2 bedroom beat up bunk house feel like home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    I'm excited to see what life is going to be like on the Bearing Sea in a little boat and bigger boats. I am also going to miss the fun I've had here with some great people who I've made some tight bonds with. I'm going to get the adventure I signed up for though. Fall is coming, and that means wind. Pacific Cod season is around the corner and the end of Pollock (what Krab and McDonald's fish fillets are made out of) is coming up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Sorry I haven't posted any pictures up yet. I haven't gone out on any hikes had a camera that could capture what it is that you see here. you need a lens that gets a 180 degree view. There are no views within the eye sight of a camera. By this weekend I'll have some up though. Thank you for the comments, it humbles me to think that there are people back home that are thinking of me and wanting to read what I am up to. I appreciate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-  Casey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-9092792357941301458?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/9092792357941301458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=9092792357941301458&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/9092792357941301458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/9092792357941301458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/08/vacation-is-almost-over.html' title='The Vacation is Almost Over'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-237069834921627805</id><published>2008-08-12T07:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T19:35:29.088-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Grandma Beenie's Wisdom</title><content type='html'>I'm here in Anchorage, and it's been beautiful. I will try and update this a little more frequently, the last 3 days have been extremely hectic. The company put me up in hotel in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Northgate&lt;/span&gt; area of Seattle. All 8 of the other new observers that I am training with were put up there also.  My room mate was a 27 year old,little blond haired Texan,  Marine Biologist from Texas A&amp;amp;M Galveston. Within 3 minutes of meeting him, we were on our way to a local &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;brewery&lt;/span&gt; down the street from the hotel. The kid has been working as a scuba instructor for the last three years off the coast of Spain and in the Florida keys. Quickly we bonded the best way I know how, over random sampling of local beer and shots of tequila. This gave me quick hope for the next three weeks. If all the other room mates and biologists end up being, well biologists, at least I'll have this cat that I know will be solid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the morning at the hotel I walked across the street, got some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Starbucks&lt;/span&gt;, then just stood on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;balcony&lt;/span&gt; out in front of my room taking in the last morning in the lower 48. This older woman walked by, gave each other passing howdies, then she stopped to take in a morning cigarette and we got to talking. She went by the name Grandma &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Beenie&lt;/span&gt;. She was a really sweet old woman who was in Seattle for the wedding of her niece. I told her of the trip I was about to embark on, and she started to tell me of some of the adventures she had taken with her husband before they married, and then with or because of her sons. She would not tell me why, but one of her sons was held up in an Amsterdam prison during a summer long backpacking trip across Europe, and she went to bail him out. Once he was out and cleared to leave the country, she decided to spend the next three weeks of his trip with him. You should have seen the eyes of this little old Grandma &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Beenie&lt;/span&gt; when she spoke of going in to clubs with her son in eastern Europe. After we exchanged more stories and before we parted I asked for some wisdom to help with my travels and dive into a new career. She dramatically took her last puff, put out her third cigarette and laid this on me; don't confuse change with progress. When that sweet old lady turned to me and stared me dead in my eye and told me that, it stopped me right in my tracks. Grandma &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Beenie&lt;/span&gt; gave me what I asked for, I was just surprised the wisdom that came from her mouth. What I lucky encounter. I spent the next 30 minutes outside on the stoop with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Beenie&lt;/span&gt; while my room mate slept, this was the best part of my three days in Seattle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met the rest of the 8 new Observers that would spend the next 3 weeks in a two bedroom bunk house. Just next to our bunk is 8 more new Observers from another company, taking the same class as we are. All of us making sure that we are going to try and get as much interaction with like people before we spend the next 3 months out at sea knee deep in fish. It's great being around this many science nerds all with a need for excitement and with an adventitious bone in their body. All came here for different reasons, but close to the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned that I was wrong about the kind of boats I'll be on.  All the fishing boats that fish in Alaska have Observers on board or have the potential to have one on board, even the crab boats seen on Deadliest Catch. The boats I'll be on are only catching Ground fish. Mainly I'll be on boats 80 to 160 feet, but some times maybe upwards to 600 feet long. Each day I get excited about the idea of being here in Alaska looking out at the beautiful green plush mountains that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;stretch&lt;/span&gt;s &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;across&lt;/span&gt; from the west side to the east side. Some times its hard to stay focused in class. I catch myself staring out the window thinking about what the city and Alaska gulf would look like from a top Mt. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;McKinnley&lt;/span&gt;. Then I snap out of it and get back to learning about how the bureaucracy of the Alaskan fishing industry works, and what my place is in it. As the day drags on, more and more of the kids who are blessed enough to sit next to a window, get caught up in the same day dreaming I am fighting every hour. I watch them as they quickly realize they've missed the last two minutes of notes and glance over at their neighbors page to try and catch up. Today in class, we saw a slide show of the two main harbors that we will be working out of. My company will be mainly out of Dutch Harbor. The first photo was of the flight into the airport at Dutch Harbor. A tiny island at in the middle of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Aleutian&lt;/span&gt; islands surrounded by Glaciers, clear blue water that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;stretches&lt;/span&gt; for days, and nestled in by huge mountains which tower over the very edge of the city which is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;stretched&lt;/span&gt; from sea to mountain base. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Every one's&lt;/span&gt; eyes grew wide and once again everyone realized quickly why it was that we had all flown from different parts of the globe, holding our Biology degree in hand, and begging to be let on these fishing boats knowing the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;inherent&lt;/span&gt; dangers and risks. Of course we could find some pond to look after and manage that wildlife, or fall into some desk job, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;experiencing&lt;/span&gt; life &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;amongst&lt;/span&gt; whales, seals, huge &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;sturgeon&lt;/span&gt;, halibut, polar bears, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;glaciers&lt;/span&gt; . . . nothing compares to that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;opportunity&lt;/span&gt;. Because of my conversation with Grandma Beenie, along with this realization, I am confident that I am making progress rather than mistaking it for nothing more than a change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Casey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. , sorry mom, but it looks like the beard and curls are on their way back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-237069834921627805?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/237069834921627805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=237069834921627805&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/237069834921627805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/237069834921627805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/08/im-here-in-anchorage-and-its-been.html' title='Grandma Beenie&apos;s Wisdom'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2727170867928489900.post-5727394346848953629</id><published>2008-08-01T18:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T14:40:28.008-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Coming Attractions</title><content type='html'>Here is the time line and the low down on where and when I am going on the first leg of this journey into the AK. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will leave from Seattle on the morning of Sunday Aug 10 on a plane bound for the AK.  I will land in Anchorage later that Sunday where the company will put and all the other Observers up in a place to stay for the next 3 weeks.  We will start our training in how to decipher the different species of ocean life that we will encounter while on any of the boats.  Each boat will be fishing for something different then other boats, so what it is that I will be surveying for and studying will change depending on the type of boat that I have latched on to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There I will learn exactly how intense this job really will be.  I have an idea of what to expect, then again I have no idea of what to expect.  Every week I will need to pass a test in order to prove that I know enough not to look like an idiot, or screw up the research while on the boat.  Come Aug. 30&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; or Sept. 1st I will be shipped to my first boat.  Not until that day will I know what port I'm going to, or what kind of boat I will be on.  From that point on, I'm kind of on my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be with the same boat as long as they are out at sea getting their catch.  This could last from any where between 3-4 days to 5 weeks.  This depends on the size of the boat, the catch, and how quickly they make that catch.  No I will not be on any of the Deadliest Catch vessels.  Though that would an awesome experience, those boats are just bigger then any of the possible boats I'll be on.  The vessels will range from 40 - 100 feet in size. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will live with, eat with, and work around the crew on board.  This is what I am most apprehensive of about.  I am in a position where some of the boats really do not want me aboard.  The other boats won't mind, but would rather I wasn't there.  I will be the science nerd hopping on board with grizzled sailors. My survival on board will hinge on whether or not I can show the man on board that I know what I am doing, I'm not going to screw up or slow down what they are doing, and that I'm not just a nerdy science kid hopping on a boat in the bearing sea because I thought it might be neat, (even if that's exactly what I am).  The actual work, and the data entry will be physically hard go long into the night most of the time, but with training I will be fine.  The science and research is not what scares me. Finding a niche with the crew, and mentally conquering being by my self for the next 10 or 11 weeks in a cold, wet, dark environment is the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;scariest&lt;/span&gt; part. But I am very excited about testing my self in that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To some of you, this may have seemed like an out of the blue, out of no where way to escape.  Don't look at it that way, I never have.  This job and experience is the start of my new journey, one that I was reluctant to take during college, and directly following.  I have a feeling this is going to be exactly what I need to kick start me on my path. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yogi Berra has said, and my father has reiterated it to me one multiple occasions, "If you reach a fork in the road, take it."  And that is exactly what I am trying to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2727170867928489900-5727394346848953629?l=caseyfranklin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/feeds/5727394346848953629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2727170867928489900&amp;postID=5727394346848953629&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/5727394346848953629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2727170867928489900/posts/default/5727394346848953629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caseyfranklin.blogspot.com/2008/08/coming-attractions.html' title='Coming Attractions'/><author><name>Casey Franklin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06165217655707162959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KaFuVy1HoAE/Sgtd_4u8DNI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Mfmbu50rfdo/S220/P1000912.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry></feed>
