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Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Monday (I really did miss the boat)

Taking my first deep breath of cold sea air, the feel of my rubber XTRATUF boots on the main deck, the rough line and cold ladder under palm. Ahh.. This is what home feels like. This is where I belong. Seriously, I can't believe this is the first time I'm realizing it. This boat, the Deer Harbor II, is more my home now than anywhere else in the world. I mean there is my 'home' in San Antonio with my mom and my sister of course, and they'll always be some of my closest family, but I spend less time there then I do on the boat in Alaska. San Antonio has become more of a weigh station in my life, a constant crossroads. I stop for a couple few weeks at a time just to see my mom, my sister, and my dog Chancey (obviously the most important). Amber and Gordon are as much my family as anyone else now though. Me and Amber live together for the most stable part of the year for us, those months spent working long and hard on the boat in SE Alaska. When I'm in San Antonio it's nice, but it's like being a coiled spring, knowing soon I'll be off on the next grand adventure, and I can’t help but anticipate what lies ahead. Here on the boat I get to let that tension release, sit down in the gorgeous wilderness, and focus all my energy on one thing for a period of time taking it as an adventure in itself. Focus on working and learning new things. Real things, not like they teach in college. Out here I get to learn about engines, the weather, and knots.


A Working Deck

I've missed it, I really have. I know towards the end of each season I don't want to be on the boat anymore, but hardly anyone does when September rolls around. Everyone leaves with a 'Thank God I'm off for a while', but then, after a month, or two, or three, you begin to think back. And when you think back you begin to remember all the good times you had on the boat the past season and every season before. You remember what it feels like not to have a care in the world, the pain/reward of hard manual labor for long hours in the cold rain, being lost in the wilderness, and a world that hardly anyone you know could ever understand. And so, like birds in migration, at a certain time of year, all the previous deckhands begin to inquire about jobs for the next season, because their internal ticker has gone off and it’s telling them 'it's been long enough now, time to feel your world rocking under your feet again'. Because the boat is your world when you're here. You feel the need for a little brisk sea air in those lungs of yours and then you really start reminiscing and longing for it all again. Missing the feel of line in your hands, thinking about the crazy shit we do, how hilarious it all was.


A Quiet Bell

Like the day it was so windy in Mite cove there were whitecaps, and then when Zeb, on the Hat Trick, was offloading his fish he accidently dropped his deck hose while it was running and the wind took hold of it spraying it all over his deck and in his house. Me and Amber were standing up at the hydraulic stand just watching the whole spectacle and we disintegrated into tears laughing about it, not because it was funny that Zeb sprayed water all up in his house (it was quite hilarious though), but because sometimes our job is so fucking ridiculous we can't even handle it ourselves and in order to cope we just break down in hysterical laughter for a good portion of each day. Then from those moments come the countless, and I mean COUNTLESS, inside jokes that we run around spouting no matter what we do which doesn't help to stop the knee slapping laughter heard about the ship all day long.


Block in the Rain

It's amazing because you live in your own little world for the time you're on the boat, well, your own little world that includes 5 or 6 others (and a bunch o' dirty ol' fishermen). No one cares about the news or anything so concrete as that. We worry about the fish and the weather. When we wake up we look outside and it's either shitty or it ain't, and most of the time it's shitty. We still go to work in it though. On those days, when the wind wakes you up, you always curse and kick yourself a little bit for getting yourself into this work for yet another year, but then you get out on deck start packing fish, or whatever it is that you're doing, and start goofing off with the rest of the crew, then, before you know it, the day is over. Yeah sometimes your hands hurt. Sometime you're sore, or just sorely exhausted from working what certainly wasn't a 9-5 work day, but you feel better for it at the end of the day. You feel like you did something. And your creaking body'll tell you so as you gently try to lay it's bruised and battered self to bed. After having an end of the night shot o' Jameson with Amber of course.


Amber on the Porch 

There's just something alluring about Alaska and all it holds. Even just getting on the wheel for your 2am drive shift. Sitting with your feet kicked up on the wheel and jamming to whatever music taste has caught your fancy for the night. Whilst in the midst of a sea and a sea of stars there's nothing to bring you down. Because there's nothing like, after having had 8 cups of coffee, keeping the boat on autopilot and stepping out the wheelhouse door where your dreads are caught up in a windy mess by the cold sea air, looking up at heaven bleeding through the sky at you (a little dramatic I know, haha). Waiting expectantly, yet unknowingly, for a surprise appearance from the Northern Lights. Even the thought of them, or, maybe, just the strain on your eyes from staring into oblivion all night, can bring a little bit o' that good old salt'n'water to yer eyes. Then, after being up at the queerest hours of the of the early early morning, being allowed to retire to your own small, small but homey, estate room (the snake pit), where the learned-to-love engine and generator roars from deep within the bowels of the ship, along with the gentle back and forth of the ocean, will, often times, put you to sleep before your head hits the pillow.


A Small Moon Isn't A Small Tide

It's beautiful. The work is beautiful. The people are beautiful. The scenery is beautiful. On a clear day with the snowcapped mountains guiding the straits up and down the coastline there could be bears on the beach, whales in the water, eagles aloft, porpoises, sea lions, otters, and seals. We get to eat fresh crab, or prawns, or we stop on our way through Ketchikan for the sole purpose of purchasing the best oysters I've had, to date, in my life. I have my little smoothie every morning with spinach, some berries, yogurt, and a banana. I can focus mostly on eating healthy (or trying to and failing) and getting my body back into decent shape again. The same for my mind because often times there's not much to do but read on the boat and nothing feels better then kicking back at the end of the night and falling asleep mid page turn. I'm happy while I'm here because here is inherently brilliant. And here, as many a homeless vagabonding spirit has discovered, here in Alaska is a launching pad to the entire world.


One Lonely Cloud

And this is where I leave you. The reason this blog is called Monday, well, there are a couple. If you want to look at it this way, it's the beginning of my short Alaska journey, and if you want to look at it that way, it's because I'm lazy. But, really, this is how I would like to introduce this short blog series. I am going to release one blog post for every day of the week, starting with Monday. There will be 7 in all, detailing my last month in Alaska as well as some of the other small adventures I had on the way there, during the season, and a "what's next?" preview. They won't all be the same sort of post, they won't all be similar if I can help it, but they will all have me behind them. Wish me luck with this endeavor, I look forward to catching you all up on what has just happened as well as what is soon to come. Spoiler: Stumbles is bound to be involved.

Mountains in our wake

So thanks for reading all this y'all,

Be Happy,
Beacon

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