The three of us now began quoting, “The Perfect Storm “, as Roberto 1 from Mexico City looked on wondering if this was something of a cult, fisherman ritual or something else. Toms yet to be named aluminum 24’ boat continued on pounding the small glacier like 0-1’ seas at nearly 30 miles per hour. The quick and quiet 250 twin Hondas purred.
“Hey, I yelled out to Captain Tom, aka Billy Tyne. You promised me a shitload of fish!
Captain Tom spoke up Tom Clooney like playing Captain Billy Tyne: You’ll get your shitload of fish. I’ve gone out before and motored back with so much stock (as in fish in the hold) that little boys like you, they had to pack it on the pier!
And on top of that; I always find the fish, always! And I will this time. So don’t xuck with me.”
He did find the fish but, fortunately for the guy that had to clean’em (his brother in law Kerry) they were kept to an absolute minimum number. Once when Kerry was hanging onto a nearly 100 pounder halibut Tom attempted to harpoon, shit bang stick’em or haul him up by hand; I know not what happened because the next thing you know the fish is safety back in the water.
“The fog’s just lifting. Throw off your bow line; throw off your stern. You head out to South channel, past Rocky Neck, Ten Pound Island.
Past Niles Pond where I skated as a kid. You now blow your air-horns and throw a wave out to the lighthouse keeper’s kid on Thatcher Island.
Then que in the birds, the black backs, herring gulls, and the big dumb ducks. The sun hits ya – you head North.
You open’er up to 12 – steamin’ now!
WHAT! You wouldn’t catch my friend Tom doing anything this ridiculously slow. It would’ve taken us two weeks to cover the distance we did at that speed. No, Tom took us to select and prime halibut catch and release spots, like about a dozen of them. In the meantime Roberto and I ooooed and awwwwwwwed amazing like at the marvelous scenery all around. Two bald eagles stood out like beacons on trees; orcas , about four of them swam near our little boat while we fished. Little islets and islands and waterfalls flowing down. The view never ever got boring. My arms feel heavy this morning like if I’ve been lifting weights. Because I have! You need something the size of a small baby to get that line down to where the fish are. Everything worth catching is Titanic like deep!
Can we do it Roberto and without any wifi or cell coverage. I think we can!
Meanwhile I took a nap, ate out of two grocery store bags continuously containing everything from pistachios to blueberry cake to sugary ham slices to fruit. Everything imaginable. Except for bananas. Captain Tom won’t allow them. I told him I did something similar when I ran my trawler. No cross eyed red heads. It really wasn’t that hard to enforce my rule.
“The guys are busy; you’re in charge. Ya know what? You’re a goddamn swordboat captain. Is there any thing better in the world?”
Yeah, it’s having your own business boiler making in Alaska. A home with a wife like Kiley, three fine outstanding boys and wall art that simply says it all “. FAMILY- Lifes Greatest Blessings
I’m outside now waiting on an Uber to come pick me up. I just swatted a mosquito, it’s daylight at 0500 and a guy just ran by wearing shorts, a t shirt and out running for exercise. I’m actually not that bad either. My pants smell like fish. I was wearing them yesterday and haven’t washed them this entire trip. I washed everything else though.
Meanwhile: back on Toms unnamed aluminum boat; It’s a wam 49 degrees and raining a bit more than a drizzle. We’re in lane three waiting on our turn to go through a single lane tunnel, nearly a mile long that was cut right through a mountain; to get to the other side so we can launch into Whittier. Reminds me Jurrasic Park like in that a barrier exists to keep the outside from getting in to catch all their fish.
Not long ago we rode motorcycles through out Alaska in about 38 degree weather, so ten degrees more in a warm cabin boat feels good now.
Alaskans don’t seem to care much about the weather. Their garment choices range from hoodies to some type of grunions like rainwear to lots and lots of different shoes.
I’m still sleepy but, seeing all of the snow covered mountains at the end of June is somewhat uplifting.
Roberto and I really aren’t fish hunters but, we love the scenery. Perhaps sitting out on the deck in a small cove watching the wildlife animals and the floating glaciers might be more our style. And perhaps one day there will be is fish.
Fish that we can find if we go just a little farther than we have so far.
“It is fortune, adventure, reputation, and livelihood- all bound together in the horizon they will sail towards.
Despite personal relationships, warnings from friendly rivals who know better than to brave the bad weather, and the last-minute replacement of a crew member, the crew of the Andrea Gail aren’t going to be having as much fun as we just had.
Now go watch the movie while I board my flight.
‘You’re living a life in goddamn Alaska! Is there anything better in the world?’
End
Trawlercat Chronicles 