August 22, 2007

Up again at three. It almost seems like a bad habit. It had rained all night and it was still falling. While the temperature probably never fell much below fifty it was still there and with the dampness it felt much colder.

Tea was put on to brew while a rain suit, hoody, shirt jacket and other sundry items, including the camera, were packed. Then attention was turned to packing a breakfast/lunch for me and the guys. Two packages of sausage, boiled the night before, were cut up and put in a Zip-Loc and then in the soft sided cooler. Multi grain bread and mustard followed along with a generous number of napkins. Clothes were pulled on and then the thermos was filled with the steaming jasmine tea.

Feeling everything that was going with me was packed, the bags were picked up and carried to Kurt’s truck where the rest of the fishing party, Kurt, Joel, Jeff, Richard and Duaine, were waiting, in the rain.

When everything was loaded in the covered bed we loaded ourselves in and pulled out of the park on our way to Homer and a rendezvous with Larry and the Solitude for a day of halibut fishing.

With the author at the wheel we took the short cut to the Sterling Highway. There was virtually no traffic and after turning left onto the pavement we headed for Homer with the windshield wipers slapping back and forth keeping the windshield clear for our viewing pleasure and comfort. It was also a little help with the safety issue.

Duaine was riding shotgun with the rest of the guys tucked neatly into the back seat. They wouldn’t have fit any other way. Conversation was light but when it was there it dwelt with the imminent halibut trip and halibut trips past.

The rain continued to fall as we wound our way along the coast getting ever nearer to Homer and the boat.

At five twenty we started the descent into Homer. The street had been swept clean by the rain and glistened in the street lights. The rain slanting through those same lights took on a wintry air as it swirled and danced in the light breeze. It was forty eight degrees but looked much colder.

Driving past McDonalds we noticed they we open for business and had a couple of trucks waiting in the drive thru. A mental note was made. Continuing on through town we passed the edge and slowed even further for the Spit speed limit. No lights showed in the distance, through the rain, but we thought perhaps a restaurant or two might be open where the guys could get a hot breakfast since it was just five thirty and we still had an hour before we were to be on the boat.

Joel remembered that the Spit Sisters, a small café type advertised an opening time of five a.m. His memory of the advertising was correct. It was just that the advertising was false. Can you imagine that? False advertising in America?

The return trip to the golden arches was a little faster than the departure. When I parked adjacent to the building the guys poured out through the rain and into the brightly lit interior where they hustled to the counter and ordered breakfast. Yours truly stayed in the truck and enjoyed sausage and hot jasmine tea from the thermos.

When the guys had finished eating, their veins no doubt gurgling with fat and cholesterol, they came back to the truck and once again we headed down the spit and on to the Solitude.

As rain falls it sometimes seems the great deluge is about to begin again, until we remember the rainbow and the promise it signifies, but this morning there was no rainbow and the rain continued unabated.

With rubber boots on our feet and gear gathered we carried our loads down the steep ramp to the Solitude, in slip H-7, where Larry was waiting. He was alone this morning as little Larry has started back to school and gets to sleep in. Working as a deck hand this summer he was rising at four thirty every morning but now that he is back in school he gets to stay in bed until seven.

After Larry cranked the twin Cummins and allowed them to warm a bit he slipped the mooring lines and eased the boat out of her berth, pivoting in the stream before heading for the channel into Katchemak Bay. It was six fifteen and we were underway, in semi-darkness, heading out for what we hoped would be a very productive day. Taking advantage of the smooth ride provided by the sheltered water of the bay, Kurt and I slipped down to some bunks and lay down for a nap.

It was forty eight and the rain fell.

The rest of the guys sat in the cozy dry cabin and talked while Larry piloted us out thirty two miles to our first stop. Hopefully we would find some big hungry halibut waiting for us.

Captain Larry

Anchored up everyone donned their rain gear before heading out to the deck to grab rods and start fishing and yes, in case you are interested, the rain fell. The first bite was slow in coming but when it did it seemed like a good fish. It weighed in around thirty five pounds, not a bad start but we were certainly hoping for something bigger. As the bite picked up so did the size of the fish. Two nice halibut, a sixty two pounder and a fifty two pounder went in the fish box before a dog fish and skate were reeled in. Neither is a good omen as dog fish strip bait and skates take a long time to land but are worthless when it comes to table fare. Dog fish are also not known to adorn many a plate. The scribbler put a thirty five pound halibut in the fish box and threw back several in the thirty pound size as did the other guys. As the frequency of the bite increased the size of the halibut went down and soon we were catching chickens. Larry decided to stay a bit longer before trying it somewhere else.

Back at the Marlin, Onie rose at nine. She brewed her coffee and then read the paper while she had her breakfast. Without anyone to distract her she made great progress in cleaning the coach, straightening up cabinets, cleaning the refrig and dusting. As she worked steadily the day passed for her quickly. When we got home she was resting under the awning.

Back on the briny the anchor that held the Solitude in place was hoisted. The decision had been made to move to try for bigger fish. A short mile or mile and a half later the anchor was once again let go. As it grabbed and held the boat swung before the tide then steadied. Once again baited hooks were dropped and the fishing continued unabated. On the circular hook at the end of the writer’s line a moderate size salmon head was attached. This is a well known bait for large, over one hundred pounds, halibut and Larry was sure some of those monsters lay on the ocean floor, beneath us a hundred eighty feet. An hour later one such fish may have stopped by for a taste but apparently he preferred silver salmon to reds as it was a red head that hung on my hook and he only stayed long enough to give it a good solid jerk before moving on.

Did I mention it was raining?

Many more small fish were boated and as two ‘clock neared the larger of the small were kept to fill the limits.

Once more the anchor was hoisted by the electric winch as Larry knelt in the forty eight degree rainy atmosphere. As the anchor lifted from the bottom the boat swung with the wind allowing the diesel fumes to invade the after deck. The six of us sought refuge in the cabin.

Larry started for port and we started to take off our rain gear and heavy clothes. Each of us had layered up against the chill but now in the warmth of the cabin those layers were peeled off.

With faces that were dry for the first time in hours snacks and drinks were brought out and taken in. Small talk filled the cabin side where Kurt, Duaine Jeff and I sat.

Duaine and Kurt

Joel and Jeff

Richard and Joel

On the far side Joel and Richard napped sitting slouched against the bulkhead.

Pic of joel and Richard sleeping

An hour from the small boat basin the author climbed up to the flying bridge to visit with Larry. As we talked about family, fishing and hunting the rain fell against the windshield and curtains. Approaching the sheltered waters of the bay we found smooth sailing and much small boat traffic. Those in open boats were enduring the cold rain.

Resting alongside the floating dock the Solitude was moored and then the guys from Buttwhackers began unloading our catch preparatory to trucking it up the ramp to the waiting knives of the fillet experts. Before we surrendered our catch to the processors we stood behind it to have the moment preserved in electronic memory.

As the fish were processed Richard stood in silent respect at the speed with which the knives flew. He timed the young lady manhandling the largest of our catch and pronounced that she had rendered it a skeleton in just over one minute. I told him she must be tired because it usually takes her less than a minute.

With some of the fish left at Coal Point for skinning, cutting, packaging and freezing and the rest in coolers we headed for Sterling. Kurt was driving, in the rain.

Wheeling into Talkeetna Lodge we stopped for snacks and drinks before continuing on to the park arriving at seven, in the rain.

Each of us loaded our gear and struck out for our rigs.

Onie waiting under the awning looked like a pretty picture. She welcomed me back, helped me with my gear and then led me inside where everything was in its place and the whole house sparkled.

Our supper, salad, salmon patties, and black eyed peas with okra was spread at seven thirty.

By eight we were in bed where we watched Easter Parade with Fred Astaire and Judy Garland until it ended at nine thirty. Of course something else followed but by then the writer was dozing. Onie watched until ten when she blackened the tube and dozed off.

Outside it was forty eight. Did I mention it had rained all day and was still raining?

August 23, 2007

We were both tired for the exertions of yesterday so we occupied the bed until nine thirty.

When we did rise it was just fifty and the rain was still coming down. We turned on the electric heater and went back to bed to wait for the coach to warm up, dozing while we waited. We got back up at ten.

While the coffee and tea brewed we made the bed and got dressed. The paper was brought in and we read it enjoying our brews while doing so. We saved the crossword for later.

Stirring a little more we picked things up from the fishing trip and stored them and then Onie started breakfast.

Being the first meal of the day breakfast sets the tone for what is to follow. If breakfast is rushed, gobbled down, it is a toss up if the rest of the day will be the same. If breakfast is eaten at leisure, savored, enjoyed, then one can bet that the rest of the day will be a winner. Most of our days are winners.

Breakfast this morning was salmon patties, eggs, biscuits and sausage. Of course we had some good homemade preserves to top off the biscuits so we knew, even as we worked the crossword, we were in or a great day.

At noon we called for the fish count. Fifty eight hundred had come in yesterday. That is not a great number but for a fisherman it means there are fish in the river to be caught although it was still raining and still fifty degrees.

While work was done on the agency and notes were being made Onie played Snood.

At one the sun began trying to break through the heavy cloud cover and succeeded in chasing the rain away.

Pole in hand I sat off to try my luck against the reds.

Onie began working on snacks for the guys (Kurt, Joel, and Jeff) as we had invited them over for happy hour.

The sun broke through and began warming everything including my back so the flannel shirt came off. With the reds still swimming upstream yours truly was able to string six. A silver was donated to Margarite. Kurt, Joel and Jeff all fished along with me. Kurt strung two, Jeff one and Joel was blessed. He caught no fish so he had none to clean. Five thirty found Kurt and me at the cleaning table with all ten fish.

When we had finished our job Jeff and Joel took the fish Onie and I were keeping and took them to Kurt’s camper where they vacuum packed them for us before delivering them to Onie in our rig.

Onie was getting ready to serve another piece de resistance while Kurt was busy getting firewood and splitting it. The campfire was lit at six and then Onie brought out salmon patties, cold boiled shrimp, smoked salmon spread, coconut salmon nuggets, artichoke spread, spicy saltines and sesame crackers for everyone to feast on. And feast they did.

From time to time we glanced over to Sid and Barb’s fifth wheel where it was obvious they were closing up for the summer. Slides were taken in and the awning rolled up. Antifreeze was added to the plumbing system and holding tanks. At nine they came over to say goodbye, telling us they were leaving early in the morning. They did still have a slide cover that was wet but he had decided to roll it up that way. After a little discussion he agreed to use our ladder to dry the cover and with me holding the ladder he did just that.

When the slide was in they came over and joined the group at the campfire. Talk centered around the summer, fishing, winter projects and hopes for next summer. It was apparent that with Sid and Barb’s leave taking it was the real beginning of the end of summer and things were winding down. As the talk went up the temperature came down and before long moisture followed, sprinkles. We threw another log on the fire and continued to visit. When eleven rolled around Onie exchanged hugs with Barb and Sid, told them goodbye and told the guys she would see them in the morning. The sprinkles turned to drizzle but as we were lief to leave good company another log was thrown on the fire and the visiting continued until twelve thirty when the drizzle turned to rain. Quick goodbyes and goodnights were said and then folks scurried for their rigs.

Inside Onie was asleep so games on the laptop were played until one when the sound of the rain drumming on the roof caused my eyelids to flutter and then close.

It was still fifty and still raining.

August 24, 2007

One ‘til nine is eight hours and when those eight had passed we rose. The sun shone brightly through the open shades of the coach.

A teary eyed Barb was at the door of the coach to wish us a safe trip home and to say goodbye, one more time. She and a misty eyed Onie hugged and then parted. Dust from their pickup and utility trailer was all that was to be seen of them by nine thirty.

Notes were made as the coffee and tea brewed then Onie and I settled down with the morning paper. After leafing through the paper Onie got up to clean up the dishes from last night and then prepare our breakfast, southern style. Eggs, grits and sausage filled our East Texas tummies and made us remember days of yore, growing up in Louisiana and Texas.

Again Pawpaw settled down to write while Onie cleaned up yet again.

Our good friend and neighbor, Jim Johnson, called to give us a report from the home front. It has been hot and humid in Coldspring. It is still rainy but not so much as in July. His wife and our friend, Polly, is recovering nicely from her surgery. He is looking forward to hunting season as are we. After discussing his horses, we signed off.

A call was placed for the fish count. Sixty eight hundred fish, reds, entered the Kenai yesterday. At the end of the recorded announcement was an added statement advising that this was the last announcement of the season. From now on we will just have to try the river to see if any fish are there.

We were off to Freddies at two but our first stop was at the post office and our second was at Trustworthy. At Trustworthy we got Onie a rain suit and shopped for Christmas presents. On the way to Freddies we stopped by Safeway to pick up a copy of their weekly sale flyer. At Freddies we shopped for a new collapsible lunch bag as the old one is giving up the ghost, a croquet set for the camp as we have a nice big yard and groceries for our larder and refrigerator.

At home at five we stored our treasures and groceries then Onie bundled up to watch me fish. An hour and a half later five fish hung on the stringer.

An invitation to dine with Kurt, Jeff and Joel, this evening, had been extended last evening, just before the rain ended our visit. It was time to keep our date. Arm in arm we strolled to their rig where they, along with Sonny and Birdie, waited.

On the picnic table lay a salad, by Birdie, steaks and King Crab claws by Kurt and okra and back eyed peas by Onie. The feasting began and only ended when no one could hold another bite. By mutual agreement we called it quits at eight.

Fish were waiting to be cleaned but a few more casts had to be made before the skinning and filleting could begin. Fifteen minutes later no fish had been strung or felt so the rod was abandoned in favor of the knife.

Once cleaned the fish would provide us with many a feast. In the meantime the mosquitoes were feasting on me, eating me alive. Darkness fell before the task was completed but that didn’t slow the little varmints down. They continued their kamikaze dives extracting their toll in blood even as one was swatted down now and then. Finished at last a hasty, if ignoble, retreat was made to the Marlin where Onie waited.

She was making fudge and getting ready for Zip Loc omelets, in the morning. Kurt, Joel and Jeff would be busy with last minute chores, in the morning prior to going to Anchorage to fly home. To make their day a little less hectic Onie had invited them to breakfast.

With her well in control of things a trip up to Mike and Margarite’s rig was made to take a silver to her. It was already ten fifteen and they appeared to be asleep so the silver was taken back and put in our fridge. We would give it to her in the morning.

Since the fish cleaning had been completed in the dark they needed some additional attention before they could be bagged and vacuum sealed. They were placed in the cooler, with a generous covering of ice, to await our further ministrations on the morrow.

Inside a few quick notes were jotted down before we sat down to rest at eleven.

We reviewed our olio day before retiring a little after midnight.

August 25, 2007

At seven thirty it was thirty seven. Fog hung like a heavy shroud over our environs lending a ghostly aura to the camp, river and trees on the far side.

We were a toasty fifty five inside the Marlin since we had anticipated a cold night and set the furnace thermostats on same. Even so the electric heater was turned on high as soon as we rose. Coffee and tea brewed as these notes were made and Onie began preparing for our eight thirty breakfast guests, Kurt, Joel and Jeff.

Dressed warmly yours truly went outside to begin filling the fresh water tank. While we still had some water the monitor indicated the tank was empty. In addition a blue boy load of gray water was removed from the holding tank to make room for breakfast usage. The job will be completed later today.

After breakfast, Zip-Loc omelets and bacon, we will be leaving at nine thirty to take them into Anchorage, in Kurt’s truck. They have a two o’clock flight home.

After dropping them off at the airport we plan to have lunch at the Mexican restaurant, Gallos, where we ate with Gary, Tina and Kyle before returning to Castaway.

Leaving at ten, Kurt drove to Anchorage stopping along the way for fuel. The group visited about the fishing we had enjoyed as well as the good times and good food. It was obvious to me that Onie had gotten more admirers of her culinary skills. As we rounded the inlet Onie spotted a beluga frolicking in the outgoing tide. More mud and mudflats were exposed than we had ever seen before. It was obvious that we were seeing the effects of a very large tide fall.

When Kurt stopped in the unloading area it was two hours and twenty minutes after we left Castaway. We had made excellent time. Jeff and Joel got two luggage carts and Kurt and I began unloading the nine boxes of fish, crab and clams the guys were taking home. Their few clothes were in carry on bags. After a quick goodbye they disappeared into the airport building.

It was just after noon. We wanted to eat lunch before returning to Sterling but it was still a little early so we found a barber shop where my hair was cut and my beard trimmed.

As planned we stopped at Gallos and had Mexican food before heading back to the coach. On the way we saw more belugas in Cook Inlet riding the incoming tide. At mile marker seventy on the Sterling Highway we saw a cow moose grazing in the bar ditch.

We drove into the park at five thirty.

The noise from the door closing had barely faded away when we heard a knock there. It was LaVon reminding us that there was a party on the deck in honor of Doris’ eightyth birthday. They were waiting for us to lend our voices. We assured her we would be there shortly.

A quick call was placed to David Matthew to tell him that he wouldn’t need to ship a shotgun to Iowa for me. Onie and I would have time to return home, rest a bit, visit some and work on the deer lease before returning to Iowa to hunt pheasants.

At five many voices, including ours, were lifted to wish Doris a happy birthday. It was to have been a surprise and so it was. Many cards and a few gifts were extended her way and then a birthday cake with blazing candles was presented.

With most folks enjoying a piece of the combination chocolate/vanilla cake, Margarite began playing on the keyboard. When a song sounded familiar voices joined in to sing the parts that were known. Finger foods followed the cake and all the while the music and song continued. As a matter of fact the music and song continued until Good Night Irene was sung at the beginning of quiet time, ten o’clock.

Rig bound folks said their goodnights as they melted away into the sprinkles falling in the darkness that now fell early, in Alaska.

Tucked in a warm dry bed we watched a VHS tape that Mike Richardson had loaned us, 60 Years of the Sons of the Pioneers.

An hour and forty minutes later, after seeing a very young Leonard Sly and a younger still woman, named Dale, we went o sleep with the sounds of Tumbling Tumble Weeds and Cool Water still reverberating in the room.

It had been a long day.

August 26, 2007

Every day is a special day and Sundays are even more special. It has been set aside as our day of rest as it has been for our ancestors for years untold.

This special day dawned bright and clear and by nine the sun had raised the outside temp to forty seven.

Inside the coffee and tea were made as church clothes were laid out and a quick breakfast eaten before showers were taken.

By ten forty five we were on our way to First Baptist Church Sterling where many familiar smiling faces greeted us.

The sermon, presented by a layman, was titled Serving the Servant. The book of Philemon served as the text. Again a lay person did a fine job of expounding and expanding on God’s word.

We were back home before twelve thirty

Three trips were made to empty the gray water tank while Onie was busy cleaning the kitchen and handling fish.

The rain suit that had kept me dry on the recent halibut trip was washed and hung to dry before Sonny came by to visit about the honey wagon and maserator project. The talk went on the better part of an hour as we discussed various means of operation and spill prevention. With not much resolved but with many ideas having been discussed we agreed to talk further at a later time.

Just now Sonny, Birdie, Mary and Richard were starting a campfire and called to us to join them. We did. The men discussed the honey wagon some more while the ladies visited about various camp members and family in the outside.

When the fire was burning low Onie retreated to the TV and Sonny and I went to the grate. Two hours later my stringer held two reds. A nice trout had been landed and released.

Warm ups from Gallos served as supper before the river was visited for another half hour and Onie enjoyed more TV.

A Dolly Varden was landed and released and two reds were hooked. Since I practiced my quick release technique on them they were not strung. The two from earlier were cleaned and taken to the Marlin, at nine.

The sky was threatening rain and the sixty degree air was a little cool so the laptop was used to put down some thoughts.

Tired but happy I reclined with Onie, at ten thirty, to watch her TV show.

Outside the temperature was dropping rapidly having fallen five degrees in ninety minutes.

At twelve we went to sleep.

August 27, 2007

We were up at eight making coffee and tea to go with what would be breakfast--eggs with various things from the fridge mixed with them and slow cooked in olive oil.

Outside it was gray and forty eight, cool but not cold.

Another Monday meant another work/wash day. Events though daylight hours are dwindling down as is our time left, here, many things still have to be done and washing is one of them.

We gathered the laundry and laptops and headed off to the laundry room. While the machines did their job we surfed the web and looked at email but looked at more mail than we did surf. A hundred fifty one emails and two hours later I left Onie, paying bills to go empty the gray water tank and work on the honey wagon/maserator project with Sonny and Richard. When we got to a stopping place, we needed some parts, Sonny and I went to fish for Lee. Two were strung and given to him to add to those he already has at Custom.

When the laundry was back in the coach we went to visit Sonny, Birdie, Richard and Mary, at four.

After a short visit we left to make the coach ready for Mary on the morrow. She volunteered to clean our carpets and we needed to get everything possible off the floor for her and Richard.

Somewhere along the way we took a break and had an avocado and tomato salad along with heat ups, for supper.

GSN occupied us for the next couple of hours before we dozed off at eleven.

August 28, 2007

To leave at eight thirty with Lee and Barb Griffiths we had to get up at twenty minutes til eight.

Outside it was spiting rain and the thermometer sat on an even forty degrees. We hoped for better weather in Homer and Seldovia, as we ate our Cheerios and banana. The tea and coffee helped dispel the chill feeling that hung in the damp coach.

Right on time Lee and Barb showed up at our door ready for the ride to Homer, in the toad, where we would catch the Costal Marine tour boat to Seldovia.

Although it was cold and overcast when we left the camp the weather improved incrementally as we wound our way southwestward toward Homer.

By the time we got to the Coastal Marine Charter office at ten, to pick up our tickets, the sun was trying to break through the overcast. If the weather trend continued we would have a fine day before it was over.

Tickets in hand and with the car in public parking we made our way down the ramp to the M/V Discovery.

Ready to board

The trip to Seldovia was scheduled to take two hours and with a little luck the atmosphere could end up making a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.

After the obligatory safety announcements our captain eased the M/V Discovery from her slip and out of the harbor. The farther we got from Homer there was fewer the clouds and the more sun while enough chill remained in the air to make or a bracing day. The silk purse was coming to pass.

Bunches of kelp slid past the boat as we made our way toward Gull Island where thousands of birds nest, mate and raise young.

At top, two puffins join the 3 different kinds of gulls

We came in on the downwind side and the writer can only ask the reader to imagine the pleasant aromas that drifted over the vessel and up our nostrils. We figured with any luck the smell would be gone before we see the New Year.

Leaving the beautiful birds to their odiferous island we headed toward Sixty Foot Island, so named because of its height, and the fresh unadulterated airs surrounding it.

The sun had finally blessed us with its face and the day turned out to be picture perfect with the cool ocean breezes refreshing our nostrils while the sun did the same to our spirits.

In the distance three active volcanoes were to be seen, Redoubt, Illyama and Augustine. They are part of the Pacific Ring of Fire and at present Augustine is showing off, letting off a spiral of steam that is visible from miles away, to the naked eye but not the camera.

Illlyama

Just now Redoubt and Illyama are resting and are snow covered but someday, perhaps today, they will spew fire and ash once again. For now we are happy to see them dressed in snow.

The approach to Seldovia was marked by the appearance of rafts of sea otters, sometimes twenty or thirty in a pod, the most we had ever seen together at one time. Many of them were floating as twosomes and as the boat approached they dove as one only to resurface together and resume their floating positions.

Overhead gulls, terns and other sea birds wheeled and cried announcing our arrival at twelve thirty.

On the way in to what had once been a thriving commercial harbor we got a glimpse of the Russian Orthodox Church sitting on the hillside, an ever present reminder of Russia’s recent departure from Alaska.

Seldovia Harbor

When the boat was securely tied up we debarked and took the sort walk into town where we proceeded to visit restaurants and check out their menus and the general ambiance of the places. We decided to lunch at the first one we had visited, The Mad Fish, and walked back there. The Mad Fish, under new ownership, had been recently redecorated. In addition to being nice and airy and having a view of the harbor it seemed as though it was so clean one could at off the floor although we opted not to.

Lee and Barb

When our lunches came everyone enjoyed the clam chowder and fish and chips. We passed on some wonderful sounding deserts before deciding to share one piece of cake. It as more than enough for the four of us.

Back on the street we walked the town, stopping for lattes and chai teas, in a big circle passing many shops of interest and lingering a bit in some of them. Barb found something she couldn’t live without but the rest of us were able to resist buying anything to carry.

Toward the end of our walk we came to a river, perhaps it was the Seldovia, in which thousand of salmon were swimming. We walked out on the bridge that spanned the river and stood gazing at the fish as they swam and jumped.

Each of us lamented that we had not brought our fishing gear for surely we could have caught our limits with little or no effort. Later on the boat our lamentations ended when we learned that all the fish we saw were pinks and or chum. The captain explained that these fish were only fed to cats, you didn’t like.

After having our fill of watching fish we couldn’t catch we walked along the old boardwalk.

View from Boardwalk

At one time, in its heyday, Seldovia had been a town built on pilings and connected by elevated boardwalks. Time and weather took their toll and now the town was built on solid rock but some nostalgic folk were restoring the boardwalk and the buildings on pilings.

With our time on Seldovia running out we walked back to the boat.

Before boarding we visited with the captain, as mentioned before about the fish, but also about his work arrangements. He lives within walking distance of Castaway, in Sterling, but pilots the boat five days out of seven. He has very nice staterooms in the forward portion of the boat but he misses his wife and children so he may look for new work in the future.

The trip back to Homer was over smooth waters and we napped or dozed for the hour long trip.

Back on the Homer Spit the ladies indulged in a little more shopping and we guys, being good sports, tagged along. When the last credit card had been swiped and the last charge ticket signed we gathered our new found treasures and headed for the Subaru which was to carry us safely home where we arrived at eight o’clock.

We dropped Lee and Barb at their rig before heading for the Marlin.

Windows, vents and the outside door were open on the Marlin letting in the still warm air. Inside was a fresh clean smell and carpets that looked like new. Whatever they did and however they did it Mary and Richard had worked a miracle on our floor coverings. The Marlin is six years old and Onie has been diligent in taking care of the carpets but many feet have trod on that same carpet and the pile has taken a beating. In addition the original color seemed to have lost some of its luster. Everything has been made new. We were thrilled.

Mary and Richard stopped by as we were still ooing and ahhing over the job they had done. They suggested we leave everything off the floor, except the bare necessities, until in the morning to be sure it gets good and dry. We agreed. We were also very glad since a real tiredness crept into our bones today. We thanked them again for being such good friends and then turned to the pressing need, supper.

Onie prepared a salad topped with chicken for supper.

After supper we retired to the bedroom where we watched blackjack on TV until eleven when we went to sleep.