November Duce

November 2nd

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.

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.

This is day 38 . . . day 38 . . .

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.

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'.

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.

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.

The moral of this story, never underestimate the power of cake.

- Casey

The Grind

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.

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.

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.

I'll see you when I see you

Casey

One Hand for the Boat

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.

- Casey