ANCHORAGE, ETC

July 11, 2011-Monday

It was almost dark when the writer rose at four thirty, showered, dressed, made tea and filled the thermos before leaving at five, for Anchorage. Breakfast went with me in the car.

He drove along in forty eight degree air with the humidity hanging over the toad like a heavy blanket.

Before reaching Sterling Highway he had seen three moose on Scout Lake Loop Road.

Rain spattered on the windshield as he approached the confluence of the Russian and Kenai Rivers. In a bog to his right he saw a large cow moose breaking her fast.

Traffic was light as the tires on the Subaru rolled on over the wet pavement.

In Anchorage the rain was falling a little heavier as the toad was turned in to the Continental Subaru service reception area at 7:45.

The driver went in to see Edgar who had made the appointment for him.

After checking in and signing the required paper work the driver was told the toad should be ready shortly after lunch.

He settled in with a Louis L’Amour book, Silver Canyon. At eleven Edgar appeared and said the left rear hub was bad. The last time the bearings had been replaced the folks at Continental indicated that the hub had been damaged, before. The writer had bearings replaced in Onalaska, Texas by a non-Subaru service place and apparently they had damaged the hub when they worked on it. The driver told Edgar to proceed with the repairs and replace the hub. He returned to his book and soon finished it. He started on another one, Sermons on the last Days by Charles H. Spurgeon.

He was well into the book at noon when Edgar brought another update on the progress of the repairs. The knuckle that attaches to the hub had been damaged, perhaps when someone used the “if don’t fit, force it” method of repair and it too would have to be replaced. It was too badly damaged to reinstall. With the ok to replace it Edgar went back to the mechanic and told him to proceed.

A bit later the reading was once again interrupted. The knuckle was not in stock and would have to be air freighted in. Continental would pay for the cost of the air freight. In the meantime they would put me in a loaner car, a 2011 Tribeca, at no cost to me. They would call me when the toad was ready.

The fully loaded Tribeca was eased into the traffic on Old Seward Highway at two o’clock.

With time to kill before picking Kurt up a little after eight the driver went to Wal-Mart where he went in and looked for a hook extractor that Onie had said she would like to have. They didn’t have one. The store was enlarged last year so the driver, with time on his hands, strolled around the store looking at the addition and seeing if there was anything there he couldn’t live without. There wasn’t. He left.

Fred Meyer on Muldoon was his next stop where he continued his search for the hook extractor and once again came up empty. He wandered further looking for something to satisfy the hunger that was now starting to be made known. Perhaps some fresh fruit or something from the deli would be good. Looking at all the artery clogging cheeses nothing jumped out at him at him as desirable or tasteful. He passed on the proffered delicacies and continued on his quest for a meal.

He knew there was a good Mexican food restaurant that he and Onie liked but the exact location escaped him for the nonce. He drove around a bit and then it clicked in. The restaurant, Gallos, was on Old Seward across from Wal-Mart.

He drove there, went in, looked at the menu and ordered Hueveos Rancheros even though it was 3:30.

Eating his lunch/breakfast he read. His dining experience over and his reading quite done he left the restaurant at five and headed for Starbucks where he ordered a Chai tea and read until 6.

He had been talking to Kurt off and on during the day and the last word he had was the plane was to be in at 8:48.

After Starbucks he drove to a stop and rob where he bought a coke and a pack of gum before napping on the parking lot from 6:30 to 8 when he drove to the airport where he waited.

The flight actually arrived at 9:15.

With only carryon luggage Kurt was soon at the car and we left the airport at 9:20.

It was misty and cool with lots of wind around the Inlet.

Fog and rain greeted us in the mountains.

Kurt was dropped off at midnight and the driver got home a few minutes later.

Wide awake from drinking a liter coke he checked his email and the enews before showering and going to bed at one.

It was cold and raining.

Onie had been up at 8, had her coffee, breakfast, washed 3 loads and gone to exercise at 11:30.

Back home at 1:30 she fished to no avail and then watched TV before visiting with Chelsea.

Becky had come by to visit before she had supper, then went to bed and watched TV.

She watched until eleven when she turned the TV off. Unable to sleep she tossed and turned until the writer got home.

Snuggled together they both slept, later.

HERE COMES KRIS

July 12, 2011-Tuesday

Onie was up at 7 for Zumba.

I slept until 8:30.

When I woke she was just leaving.

The writer had Chai tea, sausage, frosted flakes and a banana for breakfast. Eating he read the paper before checking his email and enews.

Onie got home at two.

She had picked Kris up at the Kenai airport and then they went to lunch. After lunch they headed on to WalMart to grocery shop for Kris.

When they arrived home Kurt and I helped Kris get her rig set up.

We were done at four when he and I went to fish. We got nada. In years past there would have been a lot of fish in the river but this year there was none. It looked like it was shaping up to be a strange run.

Becky, Jan and Bert came down and everyone sat on the patio visiting. Kris saw the group and came over to join us.

Onie had fixed onion soup earlier and the famished writer went in to eat some, at eight.

Onie came in at 8:30.

The couple was tired and went to bed.

PONDEROUS THOUGHTS

July 13, 2011-Wednesday

It was cloudy and 48 at 3.

The writer and editor rose at 8:30 and had coffee and Chai tea.

The paper was read and Onie worked crosswords before we had our breakfast of halibut Hawaiian when we worked more crosswords.

Onie showered in the coach while the writer went to the lodge to remove accumulated grime.

The couple was ready to leave camp at 12:20 when the headed off to Anchorage in the Tribeca.

It was nice to be alone and have time to visit and enjoy one another’s company uninterrupted.

They were in Anchorage at three. They fueled up the loaner and went to Continental Subaru where they turned in the Tribeca. It had been a nice ride but they looked forward to getting the toad back.

After settling up the grief they headed to Gallos for lunch at four thirty.

After a leisurely lunch they headed to Starbucks for some hot beverages to keep them company on their way home when they started at six.

In Cooper Landing the writer noticed a sign advertising Kenai fly fishing. He had seen many advertisements for fishing along and in the Kenai but this was the first one he had seen for fishing for flies. Sure the run had been slow in developing this summer but it seemed a bit extreme to be fishing for flies.

Perhaps just as disturbing as this offer to fish for flies was the fact that the particular kind of fly wasn’t specified. The writer wondered if we were talking about the infamous Blue Tail Fly of song or perhaps it was a horse fly. Of course one shouldn’t forget the May fly or perhaps the common house fly. Then there was also the dreaded Tsetse fly but perhaps that could be disregarded due to the northern climes in which we found ourselves.

At any rate one would have to wonder what the advantage to fishing for flies would have over swatting them and then of course there was the question of cleaning them and what constitutes a trophy and where does one go to have one mounted.

With these ponderous thoughts drifting through the diminutive brain of the writer he and Onie arrived home at eight twenty.

While the writer had been pondering fishing for flies the navigator had noticed that Mt Redoubt was clearly visible.

Home at eight thirty we got the camera and headed back to the Sterling Highway to get pictures of the mountain which is actually a volcano.

It was just a couple of years ago she was spewing lava and ash into the air and only God knows when once again she will send clouds of poisonous gas, ash and lava into the air. When it happens we hope we will be home on Lake Road.

Since we were out we decided to go to Freddies for veggies and fuel.

Back home at 9:45 we found the coach alop. We re-leveled and made notes for the day and for the rest of the first part of week.

We were in bed at 12 after re-leveling, after looking outside. We had spilled some ATF fluid from the jack system.

Tomorrow we will have to reload the reservoir and try to re-level again. Perhaps the jacks were fully extended and we know the left rear jack has a propensity to leak when fully extended.

At midnight we said we would look into the problem, if there was one, tomorrow, and went to bed.

HYDRALICS

July 14, 2011-Thursday

Onie was up at 7:20. The writer slept on. She had her coffee and then was off to Zumba with Becky and Kay.

Onie watched a bald eagle across the Kenai as she sipped on her coffee.

The writer got up at 8:30, read the paper, worked one crossword as he drank Chai tea, then turned his attention to email, enews and a little agency work. The email was very slow and he made tea while he waited for it to load. After a long wait it was obvious he couldn’t retrieve some agency info he needed.

He made some notes and wrote before having breakfast.

Kurt came down and stopped in. He noticed our cooler was crushed under the side of the coach.

Left to his own devices the writer tried to level the coach and found he couldn’t. He checked outside and looked at the cooler. It was a goner. He tried cutting it up with a hand ax but had no success so he went up to Kurt’s house, got a Sawzall, went back to the coach and cut up the cooler to relieve pressure on underside of the coach. With the cooler in pieces he took the Sawzall back to Kurt.

A further check revealed there was a lot of automatic transmission fluid on the gravel in back of reservoir for the jacks. Putting down some cardboard, so he wouldn’t have to lie in all the fluid, he began checking for hose leaks. He unbundled the hydraulic lines and partially filled the reservoir.

Onie was back from the gym and she pressured the system up a bit while I watched. A fine spray of fluid exposed a leak in the offending line. It led to the left rear jack, as suspected.

Tools were taken from the shed and arranged on the ground within reach of the writer, now the hydraulic mechanic, and he removed the bad hydraulic line. A few phone calls found that Napa Parts House in Soldotna could make a new hose.

It was off to Soldotna. Kurt rode along. While we waited for the hose to be made up we picked up more ATF as it seemed the reservoir was empty.

On the way back, near the campground, the writer spotted the resident moose with her calf and sent Onie back with the camera. She almost missed seeing them as they were behind bushes and in a shallow creek bed. A narrow opening revealed the two but she had to wait several minutes before she got a picture of Mama Moose. Baby moose was small and hidden in the high grass.

Back at the coach the new line was installed with Kurt helping make the last connection.

Phew! We were done at 6 except we didn’t have enough ATF so we went back to town to get more.

Back at the coach we finished filling the reservoir. Onie pressured up the system while Kurt and I watched the connections for leaks. With no leak detected it looked like we were good to go.

Inside we leveled up and put the slides out. They had been retracted when we couldn’t level up.

A final check for leaks was made. There was one small drip at the reservoir connection. An additional ¼ turn on the fitting stopped the drip.

Now the tools were put up and put the cardboard placed in the trash. The whole job had taken about five hours including travel time and now it was time for a long shower to remove dirt and oil from the writer.

Shortly after the clean writer was back at the coach, Bert walked down for a visit. Kurt, Becky and Jan come down later. We visited for a while before they headed home.

Supper, rice and sausage, followed and then it was time for a little TV.

Shortly thereafter it was sleep.

FERRY DUTY

July 15, 2001-Friday

Once again Onie was up first, at 7.

The writer was up at 8:30.

Outside it was sunny and warm.

Coffee, Chai tea, tea, sausage and rice sated the morning appetites before Onie headed out to yard sales at 9:30 with Becky, Kay, Dixie and Jan.

Kurt called a few minutes later. He was going to set crab traps in one hour. The writer got dressed and went up to help him get the small boat ready to take to Homer.

Everything was in readiness at 11 and we left and drove to Homer. Light winds accompanied us. We looked out on the bay and it was almost flat.

In Homer we stopped at the Alaska Department of Fish and Game to get crab permits then went to The Gear Shed to get crab traps and a measuring device so we could be sure the crabs we keep are legal size. They have to be five and a half inches across the back and male, to be legal. All others, including all females must be put back as well as any variety other than Tanner Crabs.

We met Mark Wilson and his wife, Casey at 2:30.

We launched the small boat and took it over to where the Kingfisher was berthed at P26. We loaded the crab pots and gear on the Kingfisher before going out to catch cod for crab bait.

Four and half miles out we stopped to set the crab pots in five hundred to six hundred feet of water.

The lack of any significant wave action made setting the pots an easy job. We were back in at 6.

Mark told us he had promised to take 4 young folks and their kayaks and gear over to Tutka Bay, where they will stay for two days. He asked if we would transport their gear while he carried the kayaks on the Kingfisher. We obliged him and brought the small boat to a transient space, tied up and waited for the kids to show up.

They arrived at 7.

After some conjecture we figured out how to carry the kayaks and loaded kayaks.

Bringing the small boat alongside we loaded their gear; beer, chain saw, water, sleeping bags, rain gear, etc. For a two day trip it seemed like a lot and it almost filled the small boat.

We left for Tutka Bay at 8:30. The kids were with Mark in the Kingfisher while the writer and Kurt were in the small boat. The five to six mile run across Katchemak Bay to Tutka Bay was made in two to three foot seas with a little chop on top. We made good time none the less and were soon in the long, well protected bay.

We were at the drop off point for their site at 9:20. Kurt and I took the small boat in to find a landing place for Kingfisher which draws a couple of feet.

When a suitable place was found we radioed Mark and told him to come in where we were beached as it was deepest. We moved to another, shallower, beach as he started in.

Kurt and the writer started unloading the small boat placing the gear above the high tide mark.

Mark brought the Kingfisher in and beached her. Together with the kids we unloaded the kayaks.

When the kids and their gear were on the beach we headed off across the bay to a sockeye salmon hatchery. The hatchery lies at the head of a small lagoon which is connected to Tutka Bay by a small creek.

Leaving Mark and the Kingfisher drifting in the deep part of the bay Kurt and the writer took the small boat in to see if they could get into the lagoon where the salmon were swimming in a circle. The salmon smolt are put into the lagoon and are thus imprinted with the water of the lagoon. After reaching adulthood they return to spawn but finding no place to spawn they swim in a circle until they are caught or die. We were trying to get some before they died.

The tide was out as we approached the creek. Lacking the tide the creek was very shallow and although we tried three times to find enough water to get into the lagoon it was useless. We had tried motoring up the creek, pushing the boat up and pulling the boat up the creek. Unfortunately we couldn’t get up the creek with or without a paddle. And each time we tried we were met by clouds of mosquitoes. Finally admitting we were not going to get up the creek this evening we radioed Mark and told him as much then motored out to where the Kingfisher was drifting.

Mark was fishing for halibut but having no luck.

We put our heads together to plan our next move. It was getting late and the sun was setting. The weather may have been deteriorating and in addition we had no running lights on the small boat. Prudence dictated we should go back to Homer and not try to halibut fish.

We started back. The writer rode in the Kingfisher with Mark while Kurt piloted the small boat alone. We made a quick trip back arriving in Homer in 40 minutes.

Mark and I tied up Kingfisher and started cleaning up while Kurt put the small boat in an overnight spot then came to help.

When we were finished Casey picked up Mark at midnight.

The writer and Kurt started home. It was a long drive as both were tired. We talked of whatever came to mind to stay awake.

Kurt let me out at the coach at 1:40. I was in bed at 2.

FOUR TO SIX FEET

July 16, 2011, Saturday

Kurt called the writer at 8. Mark had called. The bay was flat. It was time to check the crab pots. Kurt would pick me up in 30 minutes.

The writer pulled on his clothes, made tea, filled the thermos with the hot tea and grabbed a piece of sausage for breakfast.

Leaving the camp we were in a calm wind. The closer we got to Homer the more the wind seemed to blow.

In Homer Kurt stopped at Micky D’s for breakfast macs. When we left the restaurant of the masses, the wind was blowing pretty good.

We headed on to the boat where Mark was waiting. We cast off the land lines and headed out to fish for cod, for crab bait, at 11.

With a good mess of cod for bait we headed for the pots. The seas were building and in half an hour we had gone two miles heading into four to six foot seas.

We decided we could make it to the pots safely but once there it would be too rough to handle the pots safely so we reversed course and returned to port where we tied up and cleaned up.

During the cleanup we discovered the macerator pump for the live well was burned up. We made a note of the make, model and serial number so we could get a replacement then we met Casey in the parking lot.

All of us walked down the Spit to a fish and chips place where we lunched.

After lunch Kurt and the writer headed to The Gear Shed to pick up a new macerator pump.

Pump in hand we started home at 5:30.

Last night Kurt had driven and now it was the writer’s turn.

We were home at 7.

Onie had watered her plants, cleaned inside the coach and the inside of car. The rest of the day she had stayed inside and worked on getting the printer set up as Jay needs to print something as do we. Then she rested and watched a movie and TV. She was watching TV when the writer got home and stored his gear.

While the writer was outside Kris asked him to re-aim her TV dish antenna. He did it and sat down and visited for ½ hour before leaving to cast 100 times to no avail.

While he was putting up his rod and reel Bert came down to visit one last time. A little while later Becky, Jan and Kurt came down to visit also.

They left for the hill at 10:30.

Onie and the writer went to bed and watched TV for 10 minutes before turning it off and going to sleep.

NINE TO ONE

July 17, 2011-Sunday

We were both up at 9 and showered in the coach.

Then it was time for breakfast, dressing and going to church where we arrived at 10:45.

There were a lot more folks than last weekend and Pastor Tim delivered a good sermon.

By 12:15 we were home.

Shortly after we arrived Kurt called. He was at the airport in Kenai to pick up Dwight and Duane. He asked if the writer could meet them in Soldotna at one to go to Homer to check the crab pots.

The writer assured him he would be ready and there at one. He re-dressed, had some chicken soup, kissed Onie adieu and set off to meet them in Soldotna.

The truck Kurt and the guys were in was fairly loaded with baggage so some of their stuff was placed in the toad.

The writer’s back pack was placed in the pickup and the group started to Homer. The thoughtful group the writer was riding with had purchased a chai tea for him when they got coffee. He sipped his tea as the group visited on the way down.

There was not much wind and when we arrived in Homer at 3:30 it was nice and sunny.

While the rest of us loaded gear onto the Kingfisher Kurt and Mark installed the new macerator pump.

Four of us, Mark didn’t go, aboard the Kingfisher left port at 4:30. Out of the small boat harbor we found 1-2 foot seas and with such smooth sailing were at the pots in half an hour.

In the first pot we found a lot of crabs.

Kurt, Tom and Dwayne

We kept seven of them.

After new bait was placed in the pot it was lowered over the side and sent back down five hundred feet where we hoped more hungry crabs would crawl inside.

The second pot had drifted from where we had placed it and it took half an hour of searching to find it. Once it was found it was hauled to the surface. In it we found more and bigger Tanner crabs. We sorted them and then counted what we had. Kurt was entitled to five as was the writer. We had sixteen. Measuring them again we did more sorting before deciding which ones to keep.

We kept the biggest ones.

The pot was re-baited and put back down.

Kingfisher was once again tied up at 7. We cleaned her up and buttoned up.

We walked to the truck in rain, loaded our gear and crabs and headed for Soldotna where we stopped to get the toad.

The writer was home at 9 where he stopped to talk to Onie then drove up to Kurt’s to drop off the luggage.

We had plans for crab tomorrow night for supper.

Back in the coach supper was more chicken soup with tomato and avocado.

By ten the writer was on the grate fishing. He made twelve casts that resulted in two hookups both of which broke off. While retying his line he stopped to text Kurt with news of the fish.

During the next hour he landed and strung three fish while losing several more. Onie had come down to join the writer but she seemed snake bit as she was unable to hookup or land a red.

While fishing, the writer visited with Kerry, from Midland-Odessa, and Earl, from California.

Earl bought Frank Friddle’s rig two years ago and had intended to come back last year. Early in the year he had a heart attack and a 4 way bypass last summer so he didn’t come up. Now he is here and very happy to be enjoying better health. He has 21 months to retire so he hopes to spend the summer of 2014 here and become a full timer.

Kurt, Dwight and Dwayne came down after receiving my text message. Kurt quickly caught three while Dwight and Duane caught 1 each.

The writer and Onie began cleaning their fish as well as two that Kerry gave Onie. Onie took her new table and cleaning board to the grate and set up next to the cleaning table. As the writer skinned and fileted the fish Onie took the filets and prepared them for smoking, canning and freezing. By processing the fish at the grate she was saving water in the coach, reducing the need to empty tanks so often and keeping a mess out of her kitchen. The writer must say the guys on the grate were impressed with the way Onie handled the fish and helped Pawpaw.

After the battle with the mosquitoes at the cleaning table and when the fish were cleaned and in Zip-Lok bags we took the fifty or so steps to the coach.

It was midnight.

By one we were in bed.