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Sunday, July 12, 2015

Whales, whales, whales

               I’m back in Alaska! Woohoo! I’m back with Amber and Gordon and the boat! Yay Alaska! I certainly did miss it here, I always do. Sometimes I pretend like I don’t, but, truly, I always do. It just can’t be beat. The scenery, the food, the people. Nothing has ever compared to it no matter how far I’ve ventured. There’s something innately awesome about that. It may have something to with the incredible scenery and wildlife or it may be that Alaska feels like home. I do feel that way towards boats now and everyone loves their home. So why wouldn’t I love Alaska in that same way? I feel lucky to have found something as cool as this. Really lucky.

Okay, now that I’ve set the stage, let’s talk about whales.

               Whales are pretty cool. I don’t really know what they do all day. Whale stuff I suppose. I just presume whale stuff is pretty cool. Maybe it isn’t, but I think it is. So, the other day we were headed from south Chatham up to Sitka. We were loaded down with around 200 totes of fish, kings and cohos, and only sinking a little bit. It’d been a lot of running the few days before that and we were a little bit ragged from all the nights spent driving up and down the TOTALITY of SE Alaska. Amber was up at the wheel driving and she called down to let us know there were a ton’o’whales happenin’. Not really a big deal because there’re always whales hangin’ about. I mean, it used to be like ‘oh my god whales!’, but now it’s more like ‘cool, some whales, call me if they do something badass’. Sometimes they’ll breach, but you don’t see it all that every time. They have to be in the mood. Lots of the time they’ll do this weird flipper flap thing where they lay on their back and flap a flipper around. It almost looks as if they’re waving at me when they do it. But, mostly, I just watch their little back come out the water when they come up to blow. It’s an awkwardly shaped back too. Well, if you ask me it is. Like they used to have a dorsal fin but it’d been deemed unnecessary during some sort of evolutionary phase. Maybe that's why they're called humpbacks.
The ones Amber had just spotted were off the starboard bow. Humpbacks normally aren’t that exciting. They don’t have the element of grace or danger that orcas do, they just blow a lot. It’s still fun to watch that, don’t get me wrong, but if I’m really comfy somewhere I’m not going to ruin that just to see some little spouts of water being blown upwards from the ocean. Lucky for us, on this particular day, there must’ve been something in the water because the humpbacks were going crazy. We could see them breaching a ways off, sometimes a couple at a time. Really rad. Amber was excited, I was excited, and the greenhorns were REALLY excited. Normally, as we start to get closer to whales, they show us their tail and dive, but Amber took the Deer Harbor out of gear and ghosted up to them. They continued breaching. Over and over and over again. There were these two that just wouldn’t stop breaching and flapping their flippers (flipping their flappers?). Definitely hams. I’m sure they were just trying to impress us with their moves. They certainly weren’t camera shy. It’s a rule of thumb that as soon as I grab my camera the whales disappear, but not this time. They loved it. They bathed in it. They kept at it with zeal, like they were getting paid for this photo shoot. All four of us sat there watching these whales play for half an hour. They were so close that Gordon, the boat dog, was afraid of the giant *SLAP* they would make as they came crashing back down on top of the ocean.


*SLAP*----------*SLAP*----------*SLAP*

Their little humped back

Whale tail 



The force it must take for them to launch out of the water like that…







Flapping flippers and flipping flappers

What a ham


              


All in all, whales are pretty cool. 

Be happy, 

Beacon 

Saturday, July 11, 2015

Adios Seattle!

I was still coming down from the days hike. Not physically and not literally, but mentally. I was wrapping my head around the scenery, replaying it over and over again within the boundaries of my mind. I couldn’t believe something so dramatic existed here in Seattle’s backyard. The Cascades had been arcane. When my attention dances away to fantasy worlds, those are the mountains I’ve always found. When I read Lord of the Rings, the Cascades are what Frodo and his rough crew trek through. Not New Zealand, but, apparently, Washington. Those mountains on the Seattle horizon are everything mountains are supposed to be. Jagged, ragged, and protruding from Earth with an urgency. Like frozen, wind-whipped waves. Slanted slabs flaring out of alpine lakes at intense angles. Each distant peak a dark star in the day sky. The peaks were frothy, the slants were serene, and the mountains themselves? They were wicked.
Transcending over it all, dizzyingly, Rainier was in the distance. I could feel Rainier’s presence as I stood atop a small peak, yoked to the earth, looming over me. No matter the distance, if you can see Rainier you can feel it. It’s similar to the look and feel of a full moon in the daytime. As if it’s a backdrop and the world is the stage, so immense that it’s not even real. It looks like a projection or, perhaps, a giant cutout someone has propped up against the horizon. The mountain sits there, with white hair, just watching. Quietly waiting. Watching.

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The view had been the same one I’d seen photographed in a thousand adventure magazines, yet it was still a hundred times better than that. It hadn’t been what I’d expected to see only an hour and a half out of Seattle and I’m still quite shocked. It was incredible, hiking of that quality lying so near a city as large as Seattle, and it wasn’t completely overwhelmed by the masses either. I suppose there were so many peaks, so many little secrets and Easter eggs to be discovered, that the hiking wealth could easily be spread around. For me, it was love at first hike. It made me want to revive manifest destiny. And, when I crested that one tiny summit in the midst of the field of mountains, all I could think was ‘everything I’ve done in life has been worth it, because it got me here, to this view’. Being up there I had wanted to be nowhere else. My breath had been taken, and I didn’t really expect it to be returned anytime soon.




Juke Box and I had climbed one of the countless hikes that disappear skyward to secret lakes nestled in the mountains. It was a steep climb, but absolutely worth it as we laid out next to the clear, cool water. It was pooled between two peaks, perfect for swimming and drinking the Scuttlebutt beers we’d packed up the mountain. I was grateful that Juke had taken the time to bring me here. It was nice being able to have a little bro-time for a while. It keeps a guy sane. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with women, but, when I spend too much time with them I tend to go a bit insane. It seems I always meet up with the opposite sex while traveling. That’s just how it works for me. It’s not often I walk into a bar somewhere and walk out with a bromance you know? It’s always Tinder or meeting a girl out on the town. Long story short, I was pretty thankful for some chill time in the mountains without feeling like I had to impress someone.




Even so, earlier, before the hike, and knowing it was going to be my last night in Seattle, I’d arranged to meet a girl later that night. This would be the last chance I would be able to see a girl in this capacity before work in Alaska began and, needless to say, with 3 months on a boat waiting ahead of me, I was pretty interested in making it happen with a girl that night. Juke knew of my plans and asked me if we should get started down the mountain around five or six since it was a bit of a hike back to where the Mini Cooper was parked at the trailhead. I thought about it.
We were laying in the sun, on a rock slanting into the lake, and we’d just climbed down from the peak behind us which had had a 360 degree view of all the mountains in the area around us, including Rainier. I’d gone for a swim over to the small island in the middle of the lake. It was a hot day and the lake was cold. The sun was out and the beer was good. I really didn’t want to leave. Somehow the thought of one last night with a girl had been dampened. It wasn’t as important as it had seemed that morning. Somehow, I’d lost my sense of urgency. I’d wanted to tell him ‘forget the girl man, the world’s fucking me better right now than she ever could’. Somehow I didn’t say it. I should have, but I didn’t. And I’m typing it now, so that’s close, right? I was probably too afraid to sound like a fluff if I said it. People don’t talk like that in the real world and it scares me sometimes because I think like that a lot. Like a poet. Not that I’m a poet, but sometimes I think whimsically. I’m afraid to talk like a poet though. I don’t like them, but I guess I’ve never met a legit one... Still, I should have said it and, to be honest, I regret not staying at that lake.




The sun was going down over the steep mountains as we hiked out. Looking up at the sky I knew it was beautiful. I knew the whole sky would be afire tonight and the view from the top of the mountain would have been breathtaking. It was sad leaving. But Juke Box had work the next day and I had a girl to meet. I just wish we could have stayed the night. Camped out to watch the sky put a show on for us over that little lake. I wish we would’ve done that. I wish I would’ve let the world fuck me. I prefer stars to ceilings anyways.


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I don’t know how the citizens of Washington have managed to keep all this on the hush. I don’t know how they’ve managed to hide the fact that there is the most amazing, endless hiking right around the corner from their spot on the sound. The only conclusion I can come up with is that the people of Seattle are all required to sign a contract stating ‘I will tell no one, friend or foe, of the treasures we hold’. I’ll probably never be allowed into the club merely because I’ve typed this out. Regardless, kudos to them. I can’t believe it still. I can’t believe how good it was and I can’t believe I’ve never heard a lick about it. They’ve got some discipline, and skill, to keep it all out of the national eye. Props. I’ll be back, don’t think I won’t. You’ve captured my attention if not my heart Seattle. Thanks, a little galvanization always helps the cause.

Be happy,

Beacon