Wednesday, July 05, 2006

$178.01

If it sounds repetitious it could be because it is getting that way but the day did dawn cloudy and cold.

Breakfast at ten was the usual suspects, coffee, tea, eggs, bacon, toast and tomato with a generous side of crosswords.

When the puzzles were solved Onie cleaned up the kitchen while I talked to Dan the RV Man.

The furnace that heats the coach from the bathroom forward began to work intermittently somewhere in the Yukon.  By the time we got here it was essentially dead.  The fan would function, the heater portion light but only stay on for thirty seconds or so before shutting down.  We had a few chilly mornings and even some cool days.  The only repair shop on the peninsula is Dan the RV Man.  Dan was in the special forces of the armed services.  I don’t know everything they teach those guys but they must teach them that when you are the only game in town you set the rules.  His rules are as follow: call for an appointment, his wife will schedule a time for him to come out at his convenience, charges begin when he leaves his shop/home, and rates are one hundred five dollars an hour.  One hopes he doesn’t stop for lunch or have a flat on the way out.  Because of his rules I had been reluctant to call him but this morning he was in the park installing a new awning on a rig.  The old one had been damaged by high winds.  I asked him to have a look at our heater while he was here.

After a ten minute explanation of how busy he was and didn’t have time to help me he spent another twenty minutes on the phone with his wife telling her why he couldn’t make another call that day, he had five more scheduled and it was already close to noon.  When he hung up he drove seventy five feet to our rig to check our heater.  I had the inspection/service panel off.  With his bare hand he wiped some dust off the bottom of the opening and then got me to repeat the symptoms while he checked slip-on connections.  Then he took out a five pin connector, opened it, blew in it, brushed it with a small camel hair brush and put it back together.  I turned the heater on.  It worked.  He had been there less than five minutes.  The bill was fifty five dollars, his minimum. 

While I was writing his check I told him about the little old lady whose water well pump had stopped working.  She called the service man; he came out walked around the pump a couple of times and kicked it.  It began running.  His bill was one hundred seventy eight dollars and one penny.  She asked for an itemized statement which arrived in the mail a couple of days later.  It read, kick the pump, one penny, know where to kick the pump, one hundred seventy eight dollars.  Dan the RV Man was given a check for fifty five dollars and one penny.

After a shower the laptop got some attention and then it was off to the local hardware store, Trusty, with Marv to get some snagging hooks for our upcoming outing. While in town we made a couple of other stops before we found what we needed and then headed home.

Onie had showered in our absence and when we got back she started supper.

A few quick minutes were spent making notes before we sat down to supper after which we headed off to the fishing grate.  There is nothing to report from that little excursion.

After another movie had played it was eleven and time to sleep.

Thursday, July 06, 2006

AVERAGES

Averages are interesting and funny things.  We hear about the average man/woman, the average weight of Americans, the average salary of the working man or of more immediate interest the average cost of a gallon of gasoline.  I would say on average Onie and I have good heads of hair.  She has a lot and I have substantially less, to put it kindly, but it you took our hair and combined it we would, on average, have a lot of hair.  On the other hand if one stands with one foot on a piece of dry ice and one foot on hot charcoal coals on average ones feet should be comfortable.  Try it and tell me if you are comfortable.  I suppose Jack Sprat, who is pictured as very thin, and his wife, who is pictured as very stout were on average, an ideal weight.  This is only mentioned so we might think about the meaning the next time we read a story involving averages.  The bottom line is that averages aren’t reality.

Onie fixed breakfast early, coffee, tea, biscuits and sausage so I would be ready to leave by eight thirty for the Fishing Hole in Homer. 

Marv, Ted, Sonny and this writer left the camp at that time so we would be in place to snag King Salmon in Homer at the Fishing Hole when the fishery opened at noon.  A crowd was expected and we wanted to stake out our real estate before it arrived.  We got there at ten thirty.  The Fishing Hole is a lagoon on the Homer Spit that has a very small opening into the bay.  A terminal fishery has been created there by placing Smolt in a cage in the lagoon.  When they have been there long enough to be imprinted they are released.  Later they go to sea to mature.  At maturity they return to the lagoon to spawn but since salmon need fresh water to spawn the lagoon is a dead end for them.  For this reason fishermen are allowed to snag them.  Most of the fish are caught within the first twenty four hours of the season which lasts a week.  Those not caught will simply die.

Snagging is accomplished by casting a weighted treble hook far out and then retrieving it by alternately ripping the line through the water and reeling in the slack.  This is repeated until a fish is snagged or the hook is retrieved when the process is repeated.  The depth of the snagging hook is determined by the weight of the hook and the speed of the retrieval.  Casting and retrieval can be accomplished in a minute or two and goes on until the limit, two kings over eighteen inches are caught and five under eighteen.  Those under eighteen are called Jacks.  This is very labor intensive and involves a quick twisting jerking motion at the waist and hips when the line is ripped through the water.

When the snagging started at noon Marv quickly snagged a Jack and the writer quickly snagged a smolt, about two inches long.

Snagging a fish only two inches long takes a lot of skill.  Just about anyone can snag a big fish but it takes an uncommon ability to catch fish so small and when one can catch thirty to fifty within three hours and avoid all the larger fish it is a true display of uncanny ability.  This writer accomplished that feat while Marv was unlucky enough to catch five Jacks.  Not as accomplished as the writer Ted had the misfortune of catching two large Kings and Sonny ran a foul of one.

I did my best to console them as they cleaned their smelly old fish while I stood by smelling like Grandma’s Lye Soap.

Ted, Marvin and Sonny at work

As gently as possible it was explained that on average we had each caught a lot of fish and if theirs were averaged in with mine they didn’t look near so big and were nothing to be ashamed of.  It is unknown if the attempts to assuage their fears of embarrassment were futile.

I had thought to say no more about this situation but realized after more thought that it was unfair to let the reader make decisions about these fine men without a few words of explanation for their actions.

First, Sonny; Sonny to my knowledge has never fished anywhere but Alaska so has very little if any experience catching the smaller more elusive fish.  This explains why he caught nothing but one large fish.

Marv has fished many places and has caught his share of diminutive fish and did reasonably well given the number of large fish in the Fishing Hole and he did in fact, if you remember, catch only Jacks.

Ted, well I think Ted just had a bad day.   I have watched Ted fish for trout on the grate and he certainly knows how to catch very small fish.  His performance today can only be put down to being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

One further note; it would have been nice to put a spin on this story, like politicians do to make themselves look good, but these are good honest men and great sportsmen.  They are used to the truth and are not given to exaggerations or prevarications.  I can attest to this from sitting around the campfire and listening to tales of their exploits in the field and on the stream so I feel certain they are used to the unvarnished truth.  We will let it rest there.  

Ardith, Shirley, Birdie and Onie had come down to watch the snagging and act as photographers at the Fishing Hole.  When they felt they had recorded enough of the fun they left for a late lunch.  Readers wishing to verify the above facts need only see the pictures but if that doesn’t suffice we can supply the names and addresses of witnesses.

On the way back to Cast Away the guys put a good face on their misfortune and were very quiet about my catch.  I understood completely.

When we arrived at camp around four we went our separate ways.  They had their smelly fish and I still smelled fresh as a daisy.

.Back in the everyday world of RV life it was time to empty both the black and gray water holding tanks.  The coach was prepared to do just that when Onie returned.  We took care of that issue and prepared to get back to our space and hooked up to the power.  Onie drove, with the screens on.  Back at space number seven she backed in while yours truly acted as outside guide and replicated her arm signals.  She got it right the very first time, got the jacks down and got the Marlin level so we could put out the slides.  Half an hour later everything was back in place

Back at Ted’s we discussed him redeeming himself back at the Fishing Hole.  We decided we would make the trip back to give him that chance.  Marv declined saying he was just a bit tired.  It was only seven and we would be back by four or five tomorrow morning meaning it would just be a twenty two hour day, nothing for a stepper.

At nine thirty Ted and I started back to Homer.  The drive was a good time to visit about hunting in Maine and Texas.  Driving into Homer we got a wonderful view of the snow covered mountains on the far side of the bay and near the school, in a vacant lot, a cow moose grazed with her twin calves.

A good number of folks were fishing when we got to the Fishing Hole but not so many as earlier in the day.  The writer began fishing fairly soon and Ted joined him around midnight.

Onie was home playing Free Cell and watching a movie, trying to sleep.

Friday, July 07, 2006

REPRISE

We, Ted and I, ushered the day in with a reprise of the previous day.  Our snagging lines lashed the water trying to dodge the big fish and get the smolt.  We managed to miss the big ones but having only landed one smolt by one o’clock we decided to call it a night/day.

A smattering of rain accompanied us most of the way home.  We arrived near three, went to our rigs and sleep.  Onie was waiting for me.

We were back up at ten.  The rain that had started while we slept continued through our coffee, tea, breakfast in bed and crosswords.  Cinderella Man kept us company through breakfast.

By the time the crosswords were finished the rain for the day was also.  At three in the morning the energy level had been too low to unpack the car, much less take care of the items in it.  That job moved to the top of the list now and it was unpacked, the backpack relieved of its contents, the rod and reel taken out, the reel removed from the rod and placed in fresh water to soak overnight and then the cooler and its contents were removed and tended to.  The snagging hooks I had borrowed from Marv were returned and then Ted’s things were taken to his rig and dropped off.  He wasn’t home so they were just left under his awning.

While these items were being returned and I was visiting with Marv, Onie left for Soldotna.  While there she visited Safeway and stopped by the post office.

At the coach the fresh water holding tank was being refilled.  When that had been accomplished there was the matter of a ceiling light fixture that had ceased functioning.  A little discovery work revealed a fluorescent bulb that had apparently been given a good shaking on the Al-Can and had decided it was past time to come apart at the seams, end seam that is, and it had done just that.  Our last reserve bulb was installed, another tube had failed on the way up and had been replaced, and now this item was added to our shopping list for the RV supply store.

With these chores out of the way the web was checked for mail and news before I rewarded myself with a game of Free Cell.  Then it was time to write until Onie returned.

When she got back we unloaded the groceries and the potting soil she got for our planter box.  When she was ready the box was filled with soil and then she created the arrangement for planting.  When each plant had found its new home a gentle rain, right on time, began to fall on Onie’s new charges.

With the falling rain came, falling temperatures, we retreated to the coach.

Supper was eaten to the hum of the furnace fan as we strove to fight off the chill of the damp night air.

With supper under our belts we retreated further into the coach, our bedroom.  From there we made our final escape from the cold by pulling the bed covers up snuggly under our chins.  So ensconced we rolled our latest movie, If Only, which finished at midnight.

Saturday, July 08, 2006

RUB A DUB DUB

A cool morning under a cloudy and misty sky greeted us when we rose at seven thirty. 

We had been told about Ziploc omelets and Onie decided to try fixing them for breakfast.  The short story of this is that the omelet ingredients are chopped and put in a Ziploc bag along with eggs.  The bag is closed, squeezed and shaken to mix the contents, then placed in boiling water for fifteen minutes.  It really worked like a charm but unfortunately only after some ingredients had made a trip to the kitchen floor.  The finished omelets were accompanied by the ever present coffee and tea as well as toast, tomatoes and cucumbers.

No sooner had we finished breakfast than we received a phone call from our Alabama grandson, Kyle Bahm.  Kyle would like to live in Texas but stays in Alabama to be close to his parents.  He feels certain they need his help in their advancing years, the forties.  He turned twelve in May and is winning lots of money racing his go kart.  His Mom and Dad pit crew for him and Dad is his chief mechanic and sponsor.  Like most sponsors Dad probably spends ten dollars for every one Kyle wins but then Kyle is the star and gets the purse when he wins.  Their basement is filled with trophies that Kyle has won in his two year racing career.  He has raced in several states including his home state, Mississippi, Louisiana and Tennessee.  Last night he raced at the kart track at Talladega and won first place.  He pocketed three hundred dollars.  Tonight he races at Toney Speedway close to his home in Harvest.

He is saving for a dirt bike and figures by doing so he is helping Mom and Dad so they won’t be out the money to buy one.  My estimation is if the dirt bike cost him a thousand dollars it will cost Dad ten thousand.  There will be a bonus for Mom, Dad and Kyle if he earns the money for his dirt bike.  It will mean he has continued to make straight As, the condition for his sponsor to continue funding the operation and for the pit crew to continue working in his behalf.

The news of his win and the excitement in his voice gladdened us and also helped us to remember what it means to be twelve in a country where I figure the average age is about forty five or so.

Onie played Free Cell until it was her turn to talk to Kyle.  When she hung up it was time to begin getting ready to meet the Hager’s at the Kenai Princess but first we had a few more things to do.  I had called yesterday for reservations for this evening at seven.

While we were sorting our weekly wash David Matthew called regarding his upcoming trip.  We visited while Onie and I loaded our pill boxes, for the next two weeks.  I suppose we will be doing this as long as God grants us time here on earth.  It is a small price to pay for good health and we are very fortunate to have such good health and health care.  We are also very fortunate to have planned ahead where we could afford the insurance that makes it possible at reasonable cost.  I suppose we could have opted to spend more money in earlier times on more movies, dinners out, expensive cars, bigger houses and other things some folks consider necessities and not have saved as we did.  Then we would be unable to afford the meds and could have cried about how the government had failed us while forgetting how we had failed ourselves.

When the phone call ended we went up and started the wash.  While Onie tended the rub a dub dub of the machines the laptop felt the heavy touch of my fingers as I tried to record and comment on a few more days of our lives.

Dressed and hungry we left the Marlin at six fifteen en route to meet Bill and Nancy.  We arrived right at seven.  They had been there some time having spent the previous night in Seward.  They had left this morning and headed our way stopping at Exit Glacier and a few shops along the way.

Seated at our table for four overlooking the Kenai River flowing a hundred feet below and at the snow capped mountains just beyond it we enjoyed a leisurely three hour repast before heading for Sterling and the coach.

On the way we took the Skilak Lake Loop road to look for bears.  We did look and we saw lots of trees, lakes, snow covered mountains and wash board road but no bears.

We got home at thirty minutes after midnight.  With Bill and Nancy’s luggage in their suite we went the short distance to the coach where we promptly got ready and went to bed.  The last time we looked at the clock it read, one.

Sunday, July 09, 2006

SIGNATURE

After a big day and evening yesterday we and the Hager’s opted for a late breakfast, at ten.

After breakfast we listened while they talked of their first few days in Alaska beginning with details of their arrival in Anchorage, the trip through the tunnel to Whittier, the ferry crossing to Valdez and a warm night in the Aspen Inn there.  The next day they went fishing on a tributary of the Copper River where Bill hooked two King Salmon then it was on to Fairbanks where they spent the night.  After that they took the Parks Highway to Denali where they spent the next day touring the park.  Following that they drove the Denali Highway to Paxson where they retraced their trail back to Valdez and Whittier. 

Now they were here for their last few days. 

Bill and I went fishing on the grate where I hooked one but failed to land it.

Both Bill and Nancy agreed that a good hamburger had yet to be found in Alaska so he and I departed for Soldotna and Buckets, a local eatery and sports bar.  He had a huge burger and fries both of which proved to be very good.  The clam chowder that filled me was very tasty and loaded with the little sea morsels.  No longer hungry we stopped at Safeway to pick up some ice for his cooler before collecting the Blomstrom mail from the P.O.

Dust in Alaska in the summer is like humidity in East Texas in summer, it is everywhere and in great abundance.  The rent car Bill and Nancy were driving was a testament to that fact and every time they entered or exited the vehicle dust from the door jams soiled their clothes.  We stopped at the local car wash and remedied that before going on to Peninsula Furs.  The fur place was closed so we headed back to the coach but before we got there Bill decided he should get some motion sickness prevention for the halibut trip tomorrow so it was back to Safeway.  He picked up some Dramamine and sandwich stuff for a lunch.  We got back to the house about six thirty.

Onie’s signature salmon dinner was waiting for us.  Of course it was followed by strawberries covered with sugar free honey and heavy cream.  When the kitchen was clean we headed for the grate.

Onie showed us how to hook a red and then it was my turn.  We failed to land either fish.

It was time to get ready for the trip to Homer on the morrow.  I packed the backpack and cooler, put my rubber boots in the car and walked up and reminded Bill to pack some things to layer as we would be fishing over cold water.

Onie took her shower while I got ready for bed.  At eleven thirty I set my alarm for three fifteen and closed my eyes.  Onie came to bed later.

Monday, July 10, 2006

HOMER BOUND

It is a good drive to Homer and depending on conditions it can take an hour and a half, if you speed, to three hours if one runs into a lot of fog.  Bill and I allowed two hours for the drive and needed every minute of it.

We were up at three fifteen and by three forty five we were both in the Subaru headed for Homer.  We had our lunches and drinks in a cooler but needed ice and fuel so we stopped at the Holiday Fuel Bar in Soldotna for both.

Onie and Nancy were coming later in the Hager’s rent car and we would all meet up for dinner when we got back from fishing.

The trip was uneventful but provided a lot of time to visit.  Near the Anchor River a moose cow crossed the road in front of us, with her calf.  Neither looked either way before crossing, tsk, tsk.

Going down the hill into Homer the sun glistened on the snow capped mountains in front of us and on the dancing waters in the bay to our right.  On the Spit we quickly found a parking spot then walked to floating pier H where we found Larry and his son, Larry, aboard the Solitude.  The other four who would make up the party for the day had not yet arrived.  We got our things from the car, spent a few minutes visiting with the Larrys and then retired to the bunks.  We did feel the engines when they cranked but not much else.  When we woke the engines were dying and rods and reels were being passed out.  The seas were almost flat but a cold damp fog enveloped the boat and a shirt jacket under my wind breaker felt very good.  Visibility was limited to about fifty yards.

We took our places at the rail and, when the word was given, let our three pound weights start their descent to the bottom, two hundred twenty five feet below.  Hopefully some halibut were waiting for the herring and octopus that hung on our hooks.  They were.  They had spent the night sleeping on the floor in Kachemak Bay and seemed hungry, even voracious.  When the first of them reached the surface we saw the reason for their eagerness to eat, they were teenagers, perhaps even toddlers.  The first one up weighed perhaps three to five pounds.  Several more were caught in the ten to fifteen pound range.  At last a twenty and twenty five pounder were boated.  It was tough fishing.  The tidal current was running three to three and a half knots per hour and stretched the lines out at a forty five degree angle.  That meant to get a bait to the bottom, where the halibut live, one had to let out well over a football field length of line.  To check the bait or bring in a fish that line had to be retrieved against the current, with the three pound weight and hopefully a fighting fish on it.  We fished like this for more than an hour.  By then the tide had slackened a little.

Big Larry moved Solitude to a different spot where the bottom was only one hundred ten feet below us.  This was much easier to fish in given the slowing tidal current and the fact that we switched to two pound weights but it was still too deep to wade in or think about walking home if one got bored.  Everyone elected to stay aboard and fish.  With the tide nearing slack and lines almost straight down the tempo of the fishing picked up.  Now two or three folks had fish on at the same time and it was a scramble passing rods over and under one another to keep from getting the lines fouled.  With all the effort it still happened on occasion.  Better fish were coming aboard with a forty nine pounder and fifty pounder quickly following a thirty pounder in.  We were fishing on a twenty one foot tide and when there is that much tide fall slack water is very short, say ten minutes.  Within a few minutes of slack water the current picked up quickly and we could no longer reach bottom with a mere two pound weight.  It was back to three pounds, long lines and a move back to deep water where we drifted across a hump.  Each drift yielded a few fish, one or two being keepers, and after several drifts the boat limit had been filled.  Bill had boated several fish and was feeling a bit tired.  I to had boated my share and was feeling the effects of little sleep, heavy weights, long lines and a rocking boat.  Everyone on board was glad when the twin diesels came to life and started us on the journey to port.  Bill napped where he sat.  I went up to the flying bridge where Larry and I discussed fishing and hunting as well as Alaska politics.  Half an hour from mooring I slipped below for a quick nap.

At port the fish were loaded into a large plastic drum and taken to the fillet tables.  We gathered our paraphernalia, squared up with big Larry and went to the car before heading for the fillet tables.

When we got there the rest of the boat’s company were there waiting for us so some group pictures could be taken before the halibut were reduced to cheeks and fillets.  We lined up behind the fish, shutters clicked and then the fillet crew went to work.

In short order the fish were on their way to Coal Point Packing where they would be cut into one pound portions, vacuum packed and then flash frozen.  Hager’s would be shipped next Monday and would be at his house Tuesday.  Mine would stay to be combined with my catch from the next trip.

We had gotten in at three instead of the expected six.  We wondered what we would do for the next three hours while we waited for Onie and Nancy.  We had a date with them for inner at seven at the Homestead in Homer.  In the car we discussed out options and were still talking about them when we pulled out onto the road.  My phone ringing cut us short.  It was Onie.  She and Nancy were on the Spit looking for us.  I told her where we were and pulled over to wait for them to get to us.  They had spent the day exploring Homer and the Spit and were ready for supper.  It was four fifteen.

With Onie in the lead we followed to the Homestead where we sat in the car until a quarter of five.  A sign on the building said they opened at five but we chanced it and asked if we could be seated and wait.  They were very obliging and sat us at a table with a beautiful view of the bay, Spit and snow covered mountains.  In the foreground lay a green grassy meadow where we watched for a moose to appear at any minute.  The restaurant had been highly recommended by Marv and Ardith.  It lived up to their description even if the blackened prime rib was a tad spicy even for Onie and me.  Two hours later we were ready to head for the coach.

What had been a very short pleasant ride fifteen hours earlier was now very long and tested my ability to concentrate and stay awake.  Somehow I made it and the two cars pulled into the park around nine.

The four of us were pretty tired but Bill and me more so than the ladies.  They had gotten up several hours later than we had and hadn’t spent the day cranking up heavy weights from the ocean depths.  Tired as we were we talked of fishing for reds but before we could act on our intentions our bodies betrayed us and led us off to bed.        

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

SLEEP OVER

Most Adults would never admit to attending a sleep over but that is what we all did this morning.  We all did a sleep over past the time we said we would be awake.

When Onie and I woke I went out to replenish our fresh water and tote the gray water away in the Blue Boy.

By ten Bill and Nancy were in the coach and we enjoyed a late light breakfast.

Bill and I joined Onie on the fish grate where she foul hooked one but nothing else was doing but a few touches.  Onie and Bill stayed to fish while I went to the laptop to make a few notes and write just a bit.  Nancy watched the fishing.

When the fishing was over Bill and I went to Peninsula Furs to look for some pelts.  Had we been thirty years younger we might have opted to trap, skin and tan pelts ourselves but today we were just going to buy the products of someone else’s labors.  Or so we thought.  The ladies headed in the opposite direction, to Soldotna.  At the fur shop we met a New Yorker who had transplanted here twenty years ago.  She was dressed to the nines and was a most persistent saleslady.  We spent quite awhile looking at beaver house shoes, mukluks, shearling vests, fox pelts, badger pelts, rabbit, coon and numerous others.

When Bill and the lady got serious about what was to be bought and for how much I wandered away and looked at guns her husband, Tom, had for sale.  Tom is a gunsmith.  Sometime later Bill came out carrying a couple of bags.  He had an Artic Fox pelt and two pair of Beaver house shoes as well as a pair of Mukluks.  While he was finalizing his purchase Dawn and I had visited on the phone.

Back at the Marlin supper preparations were underway.  At seven we sat down to baked halibut, broccoli, tomato and avocado.  Honey cinnamon raisin nut bread was dessert.

When the kitchen was clean again Bill showed us some of the more than five hundred pictures he has taken since arriving.  Then he and I went to fish.  The girls moved outside and began a marathon of domino playing.  While on the grate Bill hooked three fish but none were keepers as they were all foul hooked.  Ted was fishing also and caught one which was netted and put on a stringer.

When the fishing was done, we were too sore to continue, we joined the girls.  We visited about their experiences here in Alaska and their wish to perhaps return next year if everything works out for them.  We haven’t decided where we want to go next summer so that part was left up in the air.

At twelve Onie went to bed after Bill and Nancy called it a night. 

With the computer sitting on my laptop the writing began.  Several days needed to be completed to get up to date.  I stayed with it until two when the dropping temperatures told me it was late.  A quick glance at thermometer told me it was forty four.  I quickly crawled into bed and tried to warm up from Onie.