Done with DIPAC (Douglas Island Pink and Chum) Hatchery

Praise the lord.....

We finished up with our hatchery contract two days ago. Yesterday was my first official day off in over a month!
Working for the hatchery feels like a blessing and a curse all wrapped into one. For one, the contract usually produces great profit for our pockets. My first year fishing for DIPAC, we netted over 7 1/2 million pounds. The fishery takes place inside Gastineau Channel, making it basically located in Downtown Juneau. Every night we come back to our stall and tie up. For crew living in Juneau, it's awesome. They get to go back home and sleep in there bed's. Yet despite the great location and profits of the fishery, fishing for DIPAC gets real old quickly. We work everyday from 6am until around 8 or 9pm. Every single day for a month. Days start to blur into one and pretty soon I have no bearings as to the time, day of the week, or even the date. I shouldn't complain about this because hard work is what fishing's all about. The one thing I will gripe about is fishing in front of the hatchery. What a hell hole. I basically feel like a garbage man up there. A public sport fishing dock and a construction barge terminal sandwich the DIPAC building. Fishing hooks, scrap pieces of metal, car bumpers, and assorted rusted building material litter the sea floor. In addition to pulling up these gems in the net, we get covered with this horribly foul smelling mud that accumulates on the bottom. We pull up eel looking snake fish, sea slugs, and other unpleasent bottom feeders all the time. Basically fishing in right of DIPAC is fun!! WOOHOO!!
As far as fishing goes, this year the fish never really accumulated. We ended up catching around 3 million pounds. Sounds like a lot but compared to 6 or 7, it aint much.

We pick up a new crew member tomorrow whose flying down from Bristol Bay. Then we start our new adventure of fishing with the rest of the fleet. These next two weeks will be a breeze considering I leave on the 15th of August.

One more thing, I pulled a big ol salmon out of a creek yesterday using my bare hands. I was so excited, but then I realized there was one around me to share my glory and I began to feel bad for that poor salmon. I wouldn't want to be riding my bike around and have some giant hand shoot down from the sky and grab me off my bike. Sorry Mr. Dog salmon, my bad.

Caught this big ol feller with my bare hands. Well not really, but it sounds a lot cooler to say I did.

Been a while since I wrote anything. Basically we've been working non stop for the last 2 1/2 weeks and will continue at this pace for a while. Things started out real slow, not to many fish showing and the sets weren't yielding what I had come to expect. I was beginning to get nervous about how things might turn out. Then one day, fish started to freight train right up the channel. Today we landed 215,000 lbs of fish. Not to shabby.
I can't believe how nice the weather has been. We've had 15 consecutive sunny days so far in July. That's rather unheard of up here. Someone told me that last year they had 8 days where the sun come out and it did not rain. Working outdoors all day can be a blessing or a huge burden. Working in the sun makes me very happy. I think of all the poor suckers stuck in cubicles all day long grinding away while I get to feel the warm rays, gentle winds rolling on the mountain peaks, and the spray of sea water. Working in the rain makes second guess what I'm doing and how I ended up working outdoors. Nothing more debilitating than being cold and wet. The weather really has an adverse effect on the attitude and general well being of a person.

Kind of Strange

So after listening to the news all day about Sarah Palin, the crew was happy about her resignation. Everyone knows that the lady is a moron. I asked the crew for a moment of silence in respect to the awful news about her resigning. They responded by throwing things at me. Jerks.
Anyways on my way over to get an evening tea, I literally bumped into her and the whole Palin clan while locking up my bike.
How strange.....

Check this out

This guy is our neighbor and lives aboard his boat in the harbor. A really nice guy and an interesting character. Very friendly and inquisitive about how our fishing season is progressing.
(On a side note if you see an image of a blue boat on the image bar at the top of the page, that's us!)

First Day

Just got back from the first day of fishing. I had the bright idea to sleep on the 14 hour ride over to the grounds from Juneau, resulting in staying awake that night and creating a 22 hour long day. When we arrived at Hidden Falls (the fishing grounds and a ridiculously beautiful place) the boat's motor ended up dieing, which caused us to creep towards the rocky shore. The captain let out a few quiet words uttering "oh shit." Both a coworker and myself had to lift the anchor by hand in order to reset it. The thing is unbelievably heavy and dirty. I was covered in rainwater, saltwater, and dirt. What a great way to start the first day.
We all woke up at 3:40 am to look for fish and stake our ground. The weather was terrible (raining and cold) and I was thinking to myself why in my somewhat logical mind am I doing this. Being wet and cold is extremely debilitating, it can drain the life right out of you.
With no fish jumping things looked gloomy. However right before 5 am (opening time) we saw a swirl of fins in the water. With fierce determination the captain whipped the boat around, claimed his spot, and let go of the net. Engines roaring, smoke flying it was a great start to the season. All the excitement rushed back. I remembered all the of the fishing process and things went rather smoothly despite being short a man. We're all strapping young lads who can handle the work. As the day progressed the mighty sun broke free from the clouds grip and everything warmed up. The transformation from being cold and wet to being warm and dry is an amazing feeling especially when you stuck out in the elements.
We were surrounded by snowcapped peaks, giant waterfalls, and beautiful torquise water. Not a bad office space.

A life at sea

While I was having dinner yesterday, I managed to strike up a conversation with a British fellow named Tom. He told me that the meal which he was enjoying, was the one hour of a 7 day week that he literally had to himself. Tom work's as chief engineer on one the cruise ships that run the Southeast Alaska circuit for the summer season. He commands a crew of over 60 people. All the machinists/mechanics are from Indonesia, all of the officers are from India and all of the cleaners hail from the Philippines. I naturally became quite inquisitive about Tom's position and proceeded to barrage him with questions.
How many engines on board? What's the speed? How long have you worked at sea? What's the craziest thing you've seen?
I found out that Tom has worked on boats for over 40 years. Of those 40 years, he has spent well over 60% of the time at sea. He started off in the 70's wanting to travel but couldn't afford a plane ticket. Traveling around as a merchant marine was the next best option. On any given week, Tom can travel from Anchorage, Alaska down to the Panama Canal, then onto Australia. While in Australia the boat can be moored from 3 to 12 hours and then head back. He can travel across the entire globe and never set foot on land. Time zones and calendars have no barring on his schedule.
I find this fascinating that one could travel the world in such a short amount of time. I can't imagine some of the things he has experienced. The only place he has never set foot on is the Far East.
With a 3 month schedule on and 3 month period off, I don't imagine to many people wanting to commit to such a demanding job.
Hopefully I'll get to run into Tom again and pick his brain over a nice cold beer.