Nice Weather, Easy Fishing

March 20-29, 2006 — We reached Sitka in the early hours of Monday, March 20. We had all the halibut gear baited, and we were working on the blackcod gear when Mike met up with us. We worked at a leisurely pace, and by Tuesday afternoon we had taken ice and bait and finished up baiting. We left around 2 p.m. for the anchorage in Salisbury Sound, just inside the fishing grounds.

Wednesday, March 21, met us with a calm, gentle swell. We set our halibut gear in two 15-skate strings and one 20-skate string. We began hauling a few hours later, and our first string brought us a meager 250 pounds of flat ones. But it improved dramatically with 2,000 pounds on the second and nearly 4,000 pounds on the third string. At this rate we would catch our goal of 12,500 pounds of halibut in two days’ fishing, which is what he hoped.

We set our blackcod gear out on Thursday, March 23, so it could have a good soak while we were halibut fishing. We fished halibut the rest of that day, then started in on the blackcod the next morning. The calm weather continued for us when we started hauling before daybreak. Happily, the round-fish regime from last year stuck with the program, and we delivered every Southeast sablefish in the round. All we had to do was bleed them. It was so easy, and with the calm weather it almost made the whole thing criminal. The market wanted only two days on layer-iced round fish, so we were limited in our trip length, but the six strings we hauled in that time managed to fill the hatch, so even though we had time to haul another string, we didn’t have the room to hold them. By 5 p.m. Saturday, March 25, we were heading into Sitka with a loaded Discovery.

This year we were trying out a new market, Seafood Producers Cooperative. They have plants in all the Pacific states, and pay a significantly better price, although we have to wait six months for the “kicker.” Our delivery coincided with the first herring opening, so the plant was operating at capacity from purse seiners delivering their catch. We had to offload our own fish, which was alright, because no matter how fast we filled up the bucket, we could never back up the plant; the delivery took just a few hours. We had caught two-thirds of our blackcod quota, and came up 1,700 pounds short of our halibut allotment.

The halibut price, which was $3.75 straight across when we left, had dropped because the nice weather brought a flood of fish onto the docks. The price for our delivery was $3.75 for 40+, $3.25 for 20-40, and only $2.75 for 10-20-pound fish; we averaged around $3.30 a pound for our halibut. I’m not certain what the dock price was for blackcod, but I know it was over $4 a pound for the big ones.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Departure Day 2006

March 15, 2006 — The plan was to be so prepared to leave for longlining this year, so I could enjoy a nice, relaxing dinner out at Downriggers, our favorite restaurant in Friday Harbor. That whole plan deteriorated from my perspective, since my wife, Maureen, kept stacking up projects for me to do around the yard before I left. But all in all it turned out alright, because I did manage to get everything all packed up and ready to go in the wee hours the night before I left, and she was happy that I addressed her wish list before I left.

My alarm woke me at 5:20 on the morning of March 15, with just enough time to get up and make the 6 a.m. ferry off the island. If I wake up with too much time I will sleep in and miss the ferry, so I have to cut it close.

My first stop was the grocery store in Anacortes, where I buy the items that Costco doesn’t supply, or supplies in too large a quantity for the boat. While I was there, Roald, our skipper and fearless leader, called me and asked me where I was, where Brett was, and why nobody was at the boat to help clean it up. The boat is always in a state of chaos when Mike works on it in Port Townsend, and this is how Roald and George found it when they left Port Townsend; Mike didn’t leave with the boat from Port Townsend, as he will meet the boat in Sitka in a few days when we arrive. I asked Roald if he wanted me to get groceries later and come and help him immediately, or if he could manage without me until I arrived. He stepped up to it and did the spring cleaning with George.

We went a little overboard on the groceries at Costco. Everything seemed in proportion, but I think the addition of the San Juan Island–grown beef and lamb pushed us over on groceries. I guessed the amount within a dollar at the register, $1,800 for four flatbeds loaded with eats. On the way back to the boat we stopped at a big-box electronics store to buy some deck speakers to go with the satellite radio Mike installed on the boat. It’s a good thing we stopped because Brett, who stayed to watch over our truckload of groceries, decided it was a good time for a beer but couldn’t find it in the load, which meant we had forgotten a flatbed of groceries. And it turned out to be an expensive one, with $650 worth of milk, eggs, beer and other choice items. This put the total bill at around $3,500, including island meat and the regular grocery store, but we’re so stocked up I figured we wouldn’t do too much shopping up in Alaska.

The wind was howling at the Arrowac dock when we returned with the groceries. Roald figured the wind would whip up swells that would spray the deck and douche our groceries, so for the first time ever we took time to load the groceries into their respective hiding places within the Discovery before we left the dock. Usually we take off as soon as they are loaded onto the deck, and I have to put them away as we run. I actually prefer that method because I know exactly where everything is to the extent I can reach into a compartment without looking and pull out whatever I am after. But this time a chaotic grocery-stashing party commenced, though I did my best to direct the items into their appropriate hiding places. The whole process took about 40 minutes, but had me repacking the compartments and searching out items for the next two days.

We left the Arrowac dock and pulled out into Bellingham Bay around 5 p.m. to brave the seas. I don’t know what happened to the strong wind that was ripping us at the dock, but it vanished when we were out in the bay; it was flat calm with a gentle breeze. We were off on another season of halibut, blackcod and high adventure.

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The run north graced us with good weather and fair tides. We scooted through Seymour Narrows at an astonishing 17.5 knots (that’s pretty good for an 8-knot boat). We also had fair tide for the bulk of Johnston Strait and Greenville Channel. All the while, the weather was COLD. We passed a boat that had come in at Dixon Entrance, and was totally iced up from freezing spray outside. Then the heater in the wheelhouse crapped out, which caused quite a scare for Roald, but managed to buy a replacement in Ketchikan. It was below freezing all the way up to Sitka, where it finally warmed up.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Bristol Bay in La Conner

March 6-7, 2006 — I woke up on the morning of Tuesday, March 6, knowing I had two full days to work on my Puget Sound gillnetter, the Satisfaction. This was the first time I had to work on it since the season, and the time spent on it then was mostly for emergency repairs. I would basically be living on the boat in La Conner during this time, just like many guys live on their boats when they work on them in the yards in Bristol Bay.

I had a long list of projects, but I only managed to get a couple of them done. For one, the boat was so messy that I dedicated the first two hours of the morning to restoring order and organization to the vessel. Another delay was the weather, which hampered my painting and porthole project; I managed to paint the hatch covers, but I only got one porthole installed between showers.

The biggest mess of all was my bilge, which was a huge oily mess from the leak in the oil filter during the season. I worked on that for way too long, wiping up the oil with oil diapers, because I didn’t want the oily rinse water to drain into the storm drain if I had washed it out with bilge cleaner.

I noticed a layer of diesel oil — much more than a sheen — on top of the water in the bilge when I arrived the night before. I inspected the oil filter that I relocated when I changed the water pump early in the fall season, and I found no leaks. It wasn’t until I peeked into my freshly cleaned bilge a few hours later that I realized the diesel was leaking through the aft engine room bulkhead that drains from the shaft alley. Further inspection took me aft of the hatches into the under-deck compartment in the stern where the fuel tanks live. Sure enough, my port fuel tank was leaking.

It was a slow leak, but was a leak indeed. I had no intention of fixing it now; the starboard tank was fine, and such a project would be better for the winter, when the boat is stored on the island. My task now was to pump the fuel out so it wouldn’t leak out over the spring and summer and make a huge mess.

I had to run to Anacortes to buy clean drums to store the oil. While I was there I picked up a transducer for the fathometer; another project that didn’t get completed because of the weather — it was 35 degrees and blowing 30 knots on the second day. I basically only had time to get back with the drums, get the oil pumped out, and then get the boat cleaned up and left in a proper and organized fashion so when I return to work on it (probably after Bristol Bay) I can get right to work instead of spending half a day cleaning.

Before I knew it time had totally elapsed, and I was SCRAMBLING to make the 5:15 p.m. ferry to San Juan Island, which I made, but the lady at the toll booth informed me that the ferry was scheduled as a passenger-only ferry to Friday Harbor, and I would have to take the 8:25 all-stop that would get me home at 11:30. I would like to say I took it in stride, but I was really pissed. Who makes up these damned ferry schedules?

With so much to do before I left for longlining, I decided to use this time wisely. I immediately zipped off to Burlington, a 20-minute drive, to bang out a list of semi-important errands that I may not have gotten to otherwise. I smelled like the boat and looked like a bum. My hands and face were filthy, and there was nothing I could do about that. I improved my attire by putting on a sweater I found on the boat that looked good but smelled like an old gillnetter, then I turned my filthy sweats inside out so the exterior coating of grease and oil didn’t show to the general public. I was now presentable to the public.

I had about an hour and a half to do my thing before I had to get back to Anacortes to catch the ferry. I went to seven stores in that time and accomplished everything on my list. I was in a rush, though. In Costco I set my cart in the back of the line at the checkout, ran to the bathroom and took a quick whiz, then ran back out and got back in line just in time to push my cart forward (and no, I didn’t wash).

I made it to the ferry on time, but it was delayed because of the windstorm, so I didn’t get home until well after midnight. But my wife was waiting for me upon my arrival, and she wasn’t even turned off at my smell.
I was glad to be done with that trip to the mainland.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Triple Tasking

March 5-6, 2006 — When it is time to load the longline gear on the Discovery, it means time is running out to get things done before my fishing season begins. This year, I had too many things to do before I left: I had to help load the gear on the Discovery; I needed to deliver a load of Bristol Bay stuff to Northland Shipping in Seattle; I still had a long list of pre-season projects to do on the Satisfaction, which was in La Conner, Wash.; and I still had to get my fall net out of the yard at Fisherman’s Terminal. Since time was running out I figured I would combine all these tasks into one trip off the island.

I left my home on San Juan Island on the 6:55 p.m. ferry on Sunday, March 5, 2006. I was worried about connecting with the Keystone ferry on Whidbey Island, which leaves at 9:15 p.m., so I beelined it down and made it in 45 minutes, with time to spare.

The Discovery was in its usual state of chaotic disorganization when I stepped aboard around 10 p.m. Last year Brett came up the night before as well, and we cleaned the boat spotless; this year there was no Brett and I wasn’t so enthused. I started in taking grocery inventory, cleaning out the lockers as I recorded what food was where and how much of what was needed. I finished my task, which included eating a late-night snack and preparing my bunk, around 2:30 a.m.

Loading the gear went quickly as ever. We were rolling around 8 a.m. and had the job finished by 11 a.m. Brett’s new-to-him Mazda RX-7 refused to start, so Mike grabbed a short piece of groundline, tied the Mazda to the back of his truck, and towed him onto the main road. Brett dumped the clutch and rocketed forward when the engine fired off. He slammed on the breaks in order to prevent eating Mike’s bumper, and snapped the line with a squeal of the breaks and a loud POW! from the line.

On the way out of town I grabbed my refrigeration unit, which was coincidentally ready to ship that day, from Integrated Marine Systems in Port Townsend. That delayed me about an hour, so I was rushed to go to my next stop, the liquor store, to pick up a couple of cases of bribes and favors to ship north for the Bristol Bay season. I called my wife, Maureen, and she looked online and found a liquor store in Poulsbo, right on my way to the ferry.

I was in line at the Winslow ferry dock on Bainbridge Island by 3 p.m. When I got off the ferry, I realized I was in the middle of downtown Seattle, and I didn’t know which way to turn to avoid getting stuck in a colossal traffic jam. I called the Peter Pan Seafoods office and asked them for directions to Northland, slipped right out of town, and made it to Northland by 4 p.m.

After my delivery, I shot up to Fisherman’s Terminal to work on my fall net. It was piled up in a heap: my new piece of 150 mesh-deep net was in a pile, and piled on top of that was my rotten fall net that I needed to strip (I didn’t have a tarp to protect my good net from sun damage, so I covered it with my old net). Then there was another pile that just needed to be stripped.

I pulled off the rotten net on top and remembered I was going to strip off the bottom 60 meshes of monofilament net from the bottom, so I could hand a corkline on it some day and have a 60-mesh chum net. I screwed around with that idea for a 100-fathoms worth of net, then realized I would be messing with it all night long, so I bagged that process altogether. Simultaneously I realized I didn’t feel like stripping any net, and since I didn’t want the lines (I got MILES of old lines when I bought the Satisfaction) I put a “FREE NETS!” sign up on the bulletin board and saved myself a bunch of work.

With my lightened workload, I loaded into my truck the new 150-mesh net, the 100 fathoms of 60-mesh mono I stripped, along with the stripped-off corkline, and was out of the Fishermen’s Terminal net yard by 8:30 p.m. The corkline had good enough corks to fish in Bristol Bay, so I drove over to the Peter Pan warehouse, where I planned on leaving it outside the fence with a note attached, asking them to add it to my stuff to ship north. When I got there the gate was wide open and the guys were working away on something. I couldn’t believe my eyes, because for the last three times I had tried dropping something off at the warehouse during business hours, there was nobody there and I couldn’t get in. Now, at 9 at night, here they were working away like little elves. I figured they were running drugs or something. No matter what their business, I was happy they were there so I could drop off my corkline and be on my way.

My final destination was to the Satisfaction, which was in the yard in La Conner. On the way I stopped at a hardware super-store, which was open until 10 p.m., and picked up a barbecue for the Discovery and some miscellaneous stuff for Bristol Bay. I was out of there by 10:30, and I made it to my boat by 11:30.

The boat was a disaster. The day I left it we were late for an Xmas party in Des Moines, so I didn’t give it the final organization. Everything was everywhere, and by the time I got things put away, the boat plugged in and myself unwound, it was 1:30 a.m.

I worked on all three of my fisheries in one day: longline, Bristol Bay and Puget Sound gillnetting, and now it was time to sleep.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Hauled Out

December 27, 2005 — I was up bright and early to make sure the guys at LaConner Maritime knew I was looking for a haul-out on the morning of December 27. It didn’t take long, and the Satisfaction was in the slings and ready to be pressure-washed. But her hull was so clean, the guy suggested I not pressure wash it, as he would feel guilty charging me.

As they were blocking up my boat in its parking spot I perused the yard and saw my old bowpicker, the Nightmare. I’d say she was lookin’ good, but she wasn’t. In fact, I’d have to say she looked just like she did when I had her, except she now had a crab block mounted on a davit up in the bow deck, and there was one other major improvement: There was a front deck. I unloaded her without a front deck when I had too much stuff to do, and I didn’t want to mess with such a project.

Getting to the point where I was all squared up with the yard and my boat was on blocks took quite a while, and just as I was about to dive in and get the Satisfaction ready to wait patiently for me all winter, Maureen and the kids showed up. Maureen could tell I was antsy to get rolling, so she told me to just get my business taken care of, and we’d be off when it was done.

I worked full speed. I gave the bottom a quick scrub in lieu of the $110 pressure washing I didn’t need. I gathered any lines and buoys so they wouldn’t deteriorate in the sun, and threw them in the hatch. I sought out and discarded any food that was in the cabin, so no rat would think my boat was his grocery store. I cleaned up as best I could, but it was really just a garbage hunt, so I never really cleaned anything. I tied a bucket over the stack, and locked her up tight. I was done, except for forgetting this and that, and running up and down on the boat five times before I was REALLY done.

The one job I didn’t get to was wiping all the oil out of the bilge. I drained it, but doing a good job of wiping it out would have taken over an hour, and I knew I didn’t have that, since Maureen was waiting patiently, but that mode doesn’t last forever. Because I never wiped out the oil in the bilge, the yard guy asked me to leave the plug in, so I still had to worry about the engine compartment filling up with water! I tarped off the hatch to keep the water out, and called it good enough.

The deed was done. The abbreviated Puget Sound–style put-the-boat-away procedure was completed. Far from ship shape, but all essential tasks were completed. She may be put away like a hurricane blew through, but nobody could say she was put away wet.

TO BE CONTINUED…