NO FISH
Monday, August 10, 2009
The mornings are just a shade cooler than last week or at least it seems that way. It was forty four at five and most likely dropped to forty one or forty just before the sun came up. Of course it is daylight at five but the sun isn’t really up until later.
We got up to stay at ten. Clouds covered most of the sky but later, before noon, the sun broke through.
While Onie was heating up brunch, Sandy’s salmon, the writer checked the web for the fish count for Saturday and Sunday. It was thirty two hundred and forty six hundred, respectively, not many but enough to tempt an avid fisherman or fisherwoman. Onie and I qualify.
A call was also placed to Sonny to see how he smokes salmon before canning. Of course he was eating lunch so the call was brief.
When the very last of Sandy’s salmon had been eaten Onie set about cleaning the kitchen while Pawpaw tried to recall the events of the last few days. He had been very negligent in making many notes but with Onie’s help he was able to recreate the last few days.
By one the sun had heated things up to seventy four and before the day was over the thermometer stood at seventy eight, very hot for here.
Previously caught fish were readied for brining, by Onie, and then placed in the brine she had prepared.
By two we were ready to start thinking about fishing. The kitchen had been cleaned and some writing had been done.
Outside we checked our tackle, got our boots on and headed for the grate. On the way the writer stopped to visit with Sidney who was leaving the grate. He reported that the fishing had been slow this morning but he had managed to catch two. Now there were no fish passing the grate and we could use our time better in some other venture. Informed but not convinced the writer caught up with Onie just as she was making the first flip with her rod. The fishing was on.
On the sixty seventh cast the writer touched a fish and in less than a hundred he had his first fish on the stringer. We had two hours to fish since we were going to eat out with many of our friends and would have to stop to clean up and get ready. Over that two hour span we lost eight or nine fish in addition to the three Onie caught and the three I caught. We had our limit.
Onie was off to the shower while the writer went to the cleaning table where he filleted the fish and then it was off to Custom Seafood to drop them off for packaging and flash freezing.
Back in camp at a quarter to six Pawpaw got his shower kit and towel and headed for the lodge to scrub off some dirt and fish smell.
By six thirty, the appointed time, both Onie and Pawpaw were washed and dressed. The Hager’s picked them up and it was on to St. Elias Brew Pub and Eatery, in Soldotna.
We were the first ones there but soon Priscilla, Ted, Kay and Jay and Mike and Margarete arrived. We visited while we waited for our table. When we were seated we ordered, most of us had pizza but some opted for a salad. Those who could make the comparison agreed the pizza was far better than that at Magpies.
Tired, but no longer hungry, we got back home around ten.
While Onie got ready for bed Pawpaw took the fish that Onie had placed in the brine earlier in the day outside where he rinsed them in fresh water. Then they were placed on the drying racks in the shed, seasoning applied, the fan turned on, to blow air over them, the door closed and Pawpaw went in to join Onie.
Night time pills were taken and then it was off to bed for a little TV before we called it a day.
FISHER ONIE
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
The writer woke at five thirty. There was no going back to sleep so at six he got up, closed the door to the bedroom, went to a laptop and began playing Bookworm. Two hours later the paper arrived, he retrieved it, read it and returned to his laptop to finish the story for Monday before starting on this story.
Onie slept on until ten when she joined the writer in the front of the coach. She made coffee and tea.
Outside the sun shone brightly on Sidney who was on the grate, busy landing a fish
Elevenish we sat down to breakfast, a crossword and the paper.
While Onie cleaned the kitchen and worked on venison stew, for supper, the writer went to the shed, got the fish on the drying racks and put them in the smoker, set the time and temp and went back inside. Back in the coach he got out the dirty clothes, stripped the bed and sorted the wash and then went with Onie to get it started. With the wash going in four different machines we set off to the fishing grate.
Seven thousand fish, save a few, came in yesterday, not a lot but more than the past couple of days. We felt confident we could catch our limit. Within a hundred cast the first fish was on the stringer. Then Onie caught one and we were off and running. Fish were hooked and lost and from time to time one was netted and strung. When an hour had passed we went back to the laundry room and put the clothes in the dryers.
Potatoes were needed for our stew and we had none so the writer became the potato hunter going door to door in the camp looking for two potatoes. Almost no one was home but Kay was and she had some potatoes. She gave me what was left of a five pound bag saying they wouldn’t use them before they leave in a month. I thanked her and took the bag to Onie before checking on the smoking fish. With little smoke coming from the vent another piece of apple wood and mesquite wood was added. In a few minutes smoke was rolling out again.
Onie was ready to fish again so we headed back to the grate and our rods. In a little while we left the river, again, to go fold clothes and take them to the coach. A few of the clothes were put up before we returned to the river.
Onie quickly filled our stringer and Pawpaw began filleting. Bill Hager was fishing also and when he had his limit Pawpaw filleted his fish, too. Toward the end bugs harassed Pawpaw almost mercilessly. This no doubt was a forerunner of what was to come in late August and September. When the fish were skinned and filleted they were put in a cooler, iced down and placed in the shed before Pawpaw and Onie sat down to enjoy the venison stew and watch GSN.
Back at the laptop at eleven Pawpaw finished the story for today before joining Onie in bed to watch Forensic Files on Tru TV.
Clouds, which promise rain in the near future, covered the sky and the camp was in total blackness.
MUCK MUCK
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
The clouds parted sometime during the night and allowed some radiant cooling. As a result it was thirty nine this morning, before the sun came over the treetops. Later the clouds began returning giving us a partly sunny morning when it was fifty five.
The fish count which had been edging upward dropped again yesterday to a paltry thirty six hundred. Limits will be hard to come by today.
Venison stew and cornbread broke our fast. We did have hot tea to go with it and the writer worked the crossword while Onie read the newspaper.
Showers taken, we finished putting up the clothes from yesterday’s washing and then Onie started working on reorganizing our big freezer. The writer chatted online with Tracy and then helped Onie with the freezer chore. About fifty pounds of different items were placed in Kurt’s freezer until they can be eaten. Some things were passed out in the camp.
Outside the clouds were forming and the temp was dropping from its high of sixty three. We expected the rain to start falling later in the afternoon.
The fish from yesterday’s catch had been skinned, filleted and put in a cooler before they were iced down. Now it was time to take them into Custom. A little agency work was done, a bill paid and some cards written and addressed before the writer drove down to the Hager’s to pick up Bill. He had said earlier he wanted to ride into town with the writer. On the way to the Hager’s, a movie was dropped off at the Gotto’s.
With Hagar in the car we set off to town. We hadn’t gone far when Bill said he wanted to stop, for ten minutes, at the wood carving place. On the way there the clouds delivered a few drops of rain but so few the wipers on the car were not employed.
At the wood carving place Bill’s ten minutes turned into thirty or more before we were on the road again.
In town we went to the post office and dropped the mail at the drive-through before taking the fish to Custom. Receipt in hand, from there, we headed to Sweeny Boot Company. The Muck Boots the writer bought two years ago began leaking last fall. They are still quite warm and good for hunting but the leaks allow water to soak the writer’s socks and feet when he is fishing. Some new boots are in order. Another brand of boot was tried on but wasn’t as comfortable as Muck’s. Rather than go back to the same Muck boot he tried a new style which has had less cracking problems. He settled on those, paid and left, headed back to camp.
In camp he and Onie headed down to see if a fish could be had. An hour later, and two lost fish, they decided their efforts could be better used else wise, and quit the river.
In the coach they had supper before turning to WE TV for the rest of the evening.
SKILL AND LUCK
Thursday, August 13, 2009
The clouds held in the residual heat from yesterday and our low temp over night was around fifty.
This morning the heavy cloud cover was still with us and at noon the ambient air temp was only fifty four.
We rose around nine thirty, had coffee and tea along with venison stew and cornbread while we worked two crossword puzzles.
Onie once again cleaned the kitchen while the writer made notes and finished prior day’s stories.
Outside our dining room window the Kenai, once again near normal level, sped toward the ocean. Her waters contained forty four hundred red salmon today according to the weir counter at Soldotna. Fishing today would be a test of skill and luck.
The watermelon Onie bought a few days ago had been cooling outside underneath the coach. It was brought in and cut. We both love watermelon and this was the best one we had this summer. It was great.
When half the watermelon was gone the writer went out to visit with Ted and Mike. They opined there were no fish in the river. Never one to be deterred by fact or fiction the writer set off to make his own ascertation of the situation.
A light rain fell as he walked to the river and began his flip, drag and Kenai jerk. The falling rain induced the thermometer to fall also so fingers, hands, neck and face chilled along with booted feet that stood in water. Fishing together, with Onie, for two hours Pawpaw managed to string his limit, three fish, while losing three. Onie netted but didn’t manage to string any for herself. Mike had been fishing along with us, and even before we got there, but had managed to get skunked by the wily reds. He and Margarete needed fish to fill out their jars for canning so the three fish were donated to them. Mike took them and skinned and filleted them, in the cold rain.
The writer and Onie went to the coach for hot sauerkraut and wieners at seven thirty.
Jay came by to say that we were to meet Mike Garcia Saturday, at eight, for the halibut trip. We would need to leave camp by six thirty.
While Onie cleaned the kitchen, bless her heart she spends a lot of time cleaning the kitchen, notes were made.
At nine we toddled off to the bedroom, all ten steps, to watch WE TV.
Outside the rain was still falling and the thermometer was falling right along with it. In addition the heavenly shades of night were falling.
We are currently losing five and a half minutes of daylight each day and the sun is actually below the horizon about eight hours. We have true darkness several hours a night. Before we leave, after Labor Day, we will have lost two more hours of daylight and will be having much colder nights. Morning frost will be the norm and temps into the low twenties will not be unexpected. Of course when we get back to Coldspring we can expect daytime temps to still be in the nineties.
We watched uplifting tales of murder and mayhem, wife abuse and child neglect before going to sleep at midnight.
NEED OR WANT?
Friday, August 14, 2009
It was cloudy and fifty two at six but the rain had stopped.
Big plans for Onie today had her up at eight for her coffee and soup. Then she showered and dressed.
At nine fifty she left with Priscilla and Margarete to go to yard sales. These outings are as much about the ladies socializing as it is about shopping at various houses for things they don’t need or know they want until they see them. Having said that it is only fair to say that they often find very good buys on things that it turns out they or family really do need. It was Veronica’s for lunch, for the group and then they continued shopping before returning home at five thirty.
Pawpaw was up at ten. With hot tea, made by Onie, at hand he checked his email until eleven when he sat down to his breakfast, watermelon and blueberry scones. Of course there was a crossword at hand.
More email was checked at noon and then Facebook occupied him ‘til three when he made the bed, showered, dressed and went to fish.
Rain began falling again at four but the writer was not deterred and fished on until he had his limit when he stopped to fillet them before heading of to Custom with them at six thirty. Once there he discovered they have reduced their operating hours to nine to six. They were closed. The fish were left in a freezer that the writer locked.
On the way home he stopped to fill up the toad at Freddies. Home at eight thirty he had biscuits and bacon for supper. While he and Onie were eating she was cooking sausage for tomorrow.
When supper was at an end the writer got things together for the halibut trip, tomorrow.
He made a few notes at nine before joining Onie in bed.
A couple of hours later, with the rain still falling, they went to sleep.
TWO TIDES
Saturday, August 15, 2009
The rain that was falling when we went to sleep last night had stopped before the writer rose at five thirty. The damp air was chilled by the fifty two degree temperature.
He dressed and packed for the halibut trip, went up the hill at six fifteen for Mike, came back down and picked up Larry and Sidney before leaving the park at six thirty.
A light mist had begun falling as they motored through Soldotna and on toward Anchor River for their appointment at eight with their guide, Mike Garcia.
He arrived at eight thirty when they loaded their gear and themselves into his twenty eight foot aluminum craft. By nine o’clock the big tractor used to launch the trailered boats was backing the loaded boat into the bay’s almost flat water.
A cranky GPS gave everyone at start when it indicated we were just off the coast of New Guinea but after a little tinkering Mike had it working properly and we were on our way. With the twin Yamahas pushing us steadily onward we ran out into Katchemak Bay for a little over an hour in seas that were building all the time. By the time we got to our fishing spot the swells were running three to four feet.
All eight of us, our bunch, Mike and his deck hand Fred, had been riding in the dry warmth of the small cabin. Now it was time to get out into the misty cold air. Fog, half a mile out shrouded our vision.
Each of the fishing party was given a halibut rod rigged with a three pound weight. We began lowering the weights and bait down the two hundred thirty four feet to the bottom where we hoped big halibut were waiting to bite.
In the next two and a half hours we caught some thirty pounders while the waves/swells increased. Hoping for bigger fish the anchor was hoisted and we moved about three miles where the anchor was let go and we began fishing again, in two hundred forty five feet of water. By now the tide was nearing slack so we switched to two pound weights.
The move brought smaller fish and bigger waves. We fished two hours catching some sharks and a couple of skates. The fog that had enveloped us earlier had evaporated and with its going we were able to see part of Augustine and Illyama, active volcanoes.
Augustine
Of the fish coming aboard here, the larger ones were in the twenty to twenty five pound class.
We moved again, this time making a twenty minute run before stopping in two hundred eighty four feet of water. Before lowering our baits we switched back to three pound weight. The tide had begun to ebb and with its movement more weight was needed to reach the bottom. The writer wondered if the weight of the sinker had any bearing on the height of the swells as they were now five to six feet and standing on the pitching deck had become a bit more of a challenge. In addition to the swells we had to contend with a lot of flotsam, large masses of kelp floated around us as well as big pieces of trees and limbs. In these surrounding we began catching bigger sharks as well as a one hundred pound skate. The halibut were small to medium in size as we continued to try for our limits.
Left to right: Jay, Norman, Mike, Sidney, Larry, Fred
Larry Middleton with his catch.
At last a decent sized fish was gaffed and put in the fish box. Larry had hooked and landed a fifty pound fish. With that our spirits lifted and with the renewed effort we were able to boat some fish in the thirty five pound class. The day was growing long so Mike began filleting fish while we continued our efforts.
At six fifteen we quit fishing. We had fished through two tides, something the writer had never done before. It had been a long day. The anchor was peaked at six thirty and the trip back to the beach was started. We were twenty point two nautical miles from our launching point. The launching tractors quit work at eight. With the seas still running five to six feet we would need all of the remaining hour and a half to get back in time to be retrieved and towed to the parking lot where the truck was parked.
We made it to the beach with fifteen minutes to spare. The big tractor had the trailer in the water waiting to receive the incoming boat. With a thud the boat lurched against the bow stop, a young fella on the tractor leaped into the water and attached a line to the bow hook. Then the tractor pulled trailer, boat and occupants up to the parking lot.
Weary and still damp from the splashing waves the fishermen debarked with their gear and headed for the Subaru and Jay’s truck where they took off their foul weather gear. Mike pulled the boat along side the parked vehicles and the filleted and bagged halibut was placed in coolers we had brought with us.
Before heading for Castaway the crew lined up next to the boat for a picture.
Left to Right, the writer, Larry Middleton, Captain Mike, Sidney Johnson,
Norman, Jay Harpel, Mike Richardson
And then Mike and Fred took their turn in front of the camera lens.
Captain Mike Garcia with deckhand, Mike
On the way home we stopped and bought ice for all three coolers. We knew we would be too tired to handle the fish once we were home and the ice would keep them fresh until tomorrow.
On the road for the house at eight we projected our arrival time at nine fifteen. With no moose encounters we made it right on time.
As guys got out of the car, gear was left behind, to be retrieved tomorrow.
Onie had supper waiting for me. Somehow the writer was able to eat his supper before trundling off to bed at ten thirty.
It was raining.
ICE DAM
Sunday, August 16, 2009
We were up at nine. It was cloudy and fifty two.
At twenty minutes to eleven we picked Margarete up for church. Pastor Tim delivered a thought provoking sermon entitled “I don’t want to go back to school”.
We were back home at twelve twenty.
The guys had divided the halibut and left our share covered with ice, in a cooler.
The writer did a quick change and then helped the guys pump our tanks. Then we went to Larry’s, Sidney’s and Norman’s before putting the honey wagon in its place.
Bill Hager showed me the new maserator pump he is donating to the camp and explained the upgraded wiring he had installed.
Back at the coach Onie had lunch waiting, turkey, dressing and broccoli.
Onie had mail to be posted so it was off to Soldotna and the drive through mail drop. She had a special letter for her brother, Leroy. With the letter on its way we drove to Custom Seafood to drop off the halibut and give instructions about processing.
Back in the car we called Tracy, our daughter in Austin, Texas, to let her know the halibut and sockeye should be ready for shipping Tuesday or Wednesday.
Freddies, for groceries, was our last stop before heading back home. We were in the Marlin, with the groceries, at five thirty.
An ice dam on Skilak Glacier has broken and released tons of water. That in addition to two days of heavy rain up river has the river back in flood stage and it is higher than before. When we can fish again is anybodies guess right now.
To dispel bad thoughts about lack of fishing we had a blue berry scone. Onie had a latte and Pawpaw a Chai tea.
This is Larry and Ruth’s first summer here so they are lacking some basic necessities for camp life. One such item is a smoker. He is going to use ours to smoke some reds. Onie gave him the brine recipe and the writer showed him how to dry fish and use the smoker. Tomorrow he will try his hand at it.
In the coach time was taken to read the paper and then make notes.
As the evening wore on we watched some TV and played dominoes before going to bed.