More on the Bay after still not enough rest

Bristol Bay! Everything about my trip was beautiful and wonderful! For years, Tim has been telling me about Bristol Bay, trying to get me ready for the day I would go along, and I was bracing myself for a dusty, dirty, scary, windy, ugly place and stormy weather. When I got the call this summer to pack my bags and get on the soonest flight I could, I didn't have time to worry and was only delighted to be on my way to see my husband and do something exciting for the summer.

After ice cream in the sun with my parents in front of the Greenbank store and racing to meet the shuttle at the ferry terminal, I met a lovely Whidbey girl who also lives with her grandpa, who also has a dog, who also loves hiking, and who is also a Star Trek fan. Her and I and two other young folks camped out at a table at SeaTac all night laughing and telling stories waiting for our early morning flights. On my flights, my seatmates were terrific, and even the TSA agents were superb and friendly. On arrival in Naknek, I was met by a taxi full of friendly, chatty, courteous gentlemen and was brought to my temporary home for the second night of my journey. On the porch of the Leader Creek Fisheries office, I ate my canned oysters and watched the tide come in and go out. Two of us lost crew members took turns napping on the comfy couch and waiting for any news of a tender (large boat) coming by to drop off the fleets catch and pick us up to be brought out to the fishing grounds. Early the next morning, my fellow crasher took off for a tender and left me with the couch to myself. I walked to town and got some amazing pizza, visited with all the lovely office ladies, knit a hat, read, and then stayed up late again the next night listening for the radio to announce the arrival of a tender dropping off fish and heading out to Nushigak. While I waited, the lone office drone on the late night shift and I did xtra-tuff ballet and decorated binder covers for all those important forms and such. Finally, the call came and I made my way down the wobbly line of floats and on to the tender with my backpack and rain gear and pizza.

My oyster-eating spot on the Leader Creek porch and a view of low tide in the creek.

The tender boat I found myself on turned out to be a man and his daughter (my age), his son, and one other crew member. The daughter kindly gave me the top bunk in her room, and in the morning the captain explained things about the boats and Bristol Bay and such as we radioed the m/v Whiskey Creek looking to meet up and drop me off. My anticipation and excitement grew as that wooden top house came into view and the m/v/ Whiskey Creek tied up to my tender in rough seas. Waiting for a pause between swells, I jumped from the large, stable boat onto the small rocky one with my backpack, pizza, and fishing gear. The guys tossed my bag into the cabin and I slipped on my rain pants and gloves as we got busy changing the nets on the boat with fresh nets off the tender. As soon as we cast off from the big boat, we dropped our net in the water and made a quick but huge set, drifting towards other boats and the boundary line and having to quickly real the net in. As the guys picked fish, they tossed them to me and I kneeled on the deck ripping gills and counting fish, sliding hatches open and closed, to keep the same number of fish floating in each of the 14 refrigeration bags.

As soon as one set was picked (the gill net back on the reel, out of the water, and fishless), we made another set (put the net back in the water to catch more fish), or ran to another area to set again. Between each set, I hosed off the deck to remove all the scales, slime, blood and guts. Around midnight, we took the boat load of fish back to the tender to unload and clean up for the night. Once all the bags were emptied, washed, and rehung in the clean fish holds and the deck was given a last rinse, we anchored up for the night, feasted on potatoes or rice and fresh salmon, then slept for a few hours before waking early to get back at the fishing. Eventually I made time between sets (while the net was hanging in the water soaking up fish) to actually unpack my bag and say hello to Tim, Joe, and Woody. I also cut up some old foam and made myself some very awesome knee pads which made my job much more pleasant.

Another important fishing skill is napping between sets. My favorite in-rain-gear napping spot was behind the captains chair until I was banished for being the stinkiest crew member in the fleet with fish blood soaked into the linings of all my gear and rotting. The price of having a job that involves sitting around in pools of blood and occasionally spraying yourself in the face with more blood. The boat was properly pink and glittery after a good set.

While Tim and I were busy in the far north, life went on for our farm. Grandpa and Tilly walked the beach, the first rooster began to crow, and Mom and Dad built a beautiful, sturdy fence around our lower yard. When I finally got home from fishing at 2am on the 11th, I couldn't fall asleep until I had walked the perimeter of the fence, running my fingers along it in the dark with delight.

Since getting home, I had every intention of relaxing and recovering, but there is simply too much to do! First off, I had to let the deer into the garden for some midnight snacking by forgetting the gate after all Grandpa's careful care. Luckily they didn't nibble it all up, but we may be short a few beets. I had just been thinning and weeding and making us some lovely beet greens (which turned out rather badly the first time and then not enough the second time) when I forgot the gate. Fortunately my nest box building went a little better.

Since coming home to my wonderful fence, Tilly and I have been spending an hour or so every evening sitting in the grass and watching the chickens as they have a little time in the newly expanded yard. Each day they are getting less timid and coming closer to our cozy spot where Tilly chews bones and I read about chicken butchering. After continuing my research, I think I have settled on a new method for my butchering which is more like how I took care of all those thousands of fish in Bristol Bay - holding them and talking to them and gently petting them as they bleed out (well, maybe a couple of those fish went that way...). I will link my favorite demonstration video here: Part 1 - Butchering and Part 2 - Dressing. So far, one of my three Marans (dark egg laying) is happily crowing but not too loud or too often, and none of the other chickens are! Surely there are more roosters in the bunch, but even a week after he showed his true colors and tune, the rest are still clucking. I am wondering if his shear masculinity is putting the others off. If there is no rooster, one of the hens generally steps up to fill the role, so perhaps if there are bunches of roosters and one is clearly filling the role already, the others remain more androgynous? Like the honey bees and ants and such with their queens? Hmm, from my very brief research, it looks like roosters can live together as long as it's not coed, or else they fight over the ladies and harass the ladies to no end. Expected I suppose. When the hens start getting harassed, or more roosters start to crow, or Tim gets home, it will be time to freeze the birds.

If there were other things I thought of mentioning, I am now far too tired to remember. Sunsets are still glorious here. The days are sunny and hot... Oh! In that hot sun of the day, I have been working hard trying to clean out the barns. The barn here has three sections: Main Barn (to be Goat Barn), Chicken Barn, and Shed Barn. The Chicken Barn is still in good shape, I removed some garbage, empty feed bags, odds and ends. When it gets time for chicken killing, I will give it a good cleaning before the roosters 24-hour lock in pre-butchering (to hydrate and starve them to empty their digestive systems. Hopefully it won't be so hot when the day comes! But also not too cold or wet as the girls will have to be locked out...). So with the Chicken Barn done, I moved on to the Shed Barn. It was rather gross and cluttered. By gross I mean spider webs, smells of rats of the past, garbage, toxic things... So I removed everything, raked the gravel and such about to make it level and clean and fill in the gaps leading suspiciously to the chicken run. Then I followed some of the wisdom of the internet and got about organizing everything back into there, with good wood and power tools going back to the shop, and piles of empty garbage badness going into the back of the truck. It is now looking quite nice in there, and by my measurements there will be a cozy spot for the 'lawn tractor' to just fit to the inch, and a convenient place for the wheelbarrow. All the shovels and axes and gas cans are also living there now. So with the two smaller barn segments clean and orderly, I opened up the main compartment and took a look behind door number three. I took a few items out that needed to go to the shop or shed, and then thought about what a pain it will be to drag all that garbage out of there. I gave up quickly and decided to take measurements and draw plans for its finished glory and get back to the dragging of garbage uphill tomorrow some time. My plans for the finished thing include installing about three windows, building a little milking parlor/storage area section and turning the front wall into a wall with two (smaller) doors instead of a falling apart mess that doesn't currently reach the ground thus provide much security for locking critters in. I am quite pleased with my plans, though I may still have to think a little on the installing doors on a hill bit... There are options!

Sunsets like paintings, turning my room pink.