The day before we left Juneau, Carey and I braved the heights of Alaska Zipline Adventures. Accompanied by Beth, one of the Explorer's expedition leaders (also a veteran zipliner) we were vanned up into Douglas Island's ski area, outfitted with harnesses, caribeeners and helmets. Up a tree we went, and a couple flights of stairs later were standing on a wooden platform staring down a dizzyingly long cable stretching from our tree to the next tree. Most forty to sixty foot platforms have railing all around to prevent people from falling. This platform had one side of rail missing, which made sense since we were apparently supposed to jump off the platform (sliding along the cable of course). Beth went first since she had ziplined before, and I admit I had to keep myself from trembling as I took my turn. Each of the five ziplines lasts less than thirty seconds, but they were all thrilling and memorable. We became much more comfortable, and eventually standing on the platform seemed more frightening than being suspended in midair. The owners had built the ziplines over a beautiful creek and boasted an 'eco-friendly' tour - no trees were harmed in the production of this adventure.
The next day was a very early start. We had stayed up late the night before at the Alaskan Hotel visiting the nice people in the room next door. The fast ferry to Petersburg was leaving at 7:00 am, so we got a cab at 5:30 am since the Alaska Marine Highway website had indicated we needed to be there an hour early. Right after the catamaran hulled ferry left dock we nestled into our high backed chairs-with-a-view for a couple hours of napping. When we came to, our eyes drank in the sights. Even at forty-plus miles per hour the cruise was very enjoyable. We spotted some Humpback Whales and numerous Sea Lions, though they were usually a long way off.
we arrived in Petersburg hungry, and walked from the ferry terminal the 1/4 to 1/2 mile down the road to the Northern Lights Restaurant. Piling our two backpacks and four other miscellaneous bags onto the booth, then piling our many outer 'layers' on top of them, we enjoyed the waterfront view and mediocre food. Dave Burg of Viking Travel (another block down the road) has been shore support for American Safari Cruises for many years, and since he's a nice guy, and since I've known him for four years or so, he let us stash our stuff in his supply room for the afternoon. Meanwhile, we met up with a couple who had asked us to take a Seafood Processing tour with them (they needed four people minimum). The tour guide was none other than Patti, a jolly-rancher-sweet eighty year old woman who has been carting American Safari passengers around for years. Finally, I would get to see the tour all those cruise-goers had been seeing all this time.
The Norquest seafood processing plant was or is owned by Patti's family, and she had clearly led tours there more than a few times. She showed us the fish loading dock, processing line, flash freezer, and the salmon roe processing room. She answered all of our questions and made sure we weren't run over by the zooming, honking lift-trucks. After the tour we had a chance to chat with Patti and catch up on how everyone was doing and got big hugs when we said goodbye. At that point we were on our own for a while, so we cruised the main street, poking our head in shops, hanging out with Dave Burg, and buying some belated wedding presents for Trinity and Nathan, our newlywed hosts in Petersburg. Trinity and I had taken Spanish 102 together last semester, and she was spending her summer working at the Tree's Grocery and RV Park which her father built years ago. Since she wasn't off work until 7:00 pm, her husband Nathan met us at the North Dock where he was picking up some fresh Sockeye his grandparents had caught. We hopped in the little red truck (I rode in the bed with their German/Australian Sheperd named Turbo for want of cab space) and he drove us twelve blocks or so to Trinity's dad Larry's house. Larry was out of town for a few days, so we had the rent-free run of the place. Trinity showed up after work and we all had fresh salmon for dinner.
The next couple of days we hung out at Kito's Kave bar a lot, for wireless internet more than drinking. Between wireless internet, beer, a liquor store, two pool tables, occasional DJs, darts, and La Fonda Mexican restaurant and take-out, and friendly local and non-local folk, Kito's Kave has plenty to keep you busy for a while. I don't know the full story, but legend has it that many years ago the only murder Petersburg has ever witnessed happened on the front porch of Kito's Kave. Additionally, though mexican blankets have been hung over them since the restaurant opened, the dart board covers at Kito's are painted with naked ladies. Not really that noteworthy, but certainly part of the strange character of this fisherman's town. Friday we woke up to Nathan's rebuilding-the-back-deck noise, but when it started raining (as usual in the Southeast Alaska summer) Nathan came inside and the three of us spent much of the day playing Guitar Hero/Rock Band on the Playstation 2.
On Saturday, since Nathan has weekends off from his job doing construction work with his dad, Carey and I were treated to a tour of the Island in Trinity's brother's truck (more room than the little red one). Nathan drove us out to Three Lakes Road, a mostly paved journey. Once on Three Lakes Road, we had pavement again for a little while, and as we crested a small hill we spotted a large black bear standing in the road. We tried to creep up on it, but it ran off into the forest soon after. We slowed down as we came to where the black bear had disappeared, and sure enough, he had stopped at the edge of the woods, hiding in the underbrush. Maybe he wanted to catch a glimpse of the big white metal beast; we followed the rustling bushes with our eyes until he had disappeared. Then our journey continued; on to the garnet mine. Nathan explained that a garnet-rich vein of rock ran across this part of the island, under the sea, and all the way to Wrangell, and though it used to be OK to go pick garnets out of the soft rock by the creek, it was technically not allowed now. The owner of the mine was now operating it again and he alone possessed exclusive rights to take garnets from the area. Well, the road wasn't closed, and we managed to ignore the only sign discussing this new restrictive policy, so we reached the end of the road and headed towards the creek.
"You will get wet," Nathan says as we get out of the truck. This wouldn't be the last time Carey and I regretted not having the galosh style boots called Extra-Tuffs, so prominently worn in Southeast Alaskan fishing towns. So she in her hiking boots and I in my sneakers, followed Nathan down what amounted to a tiny creek/mud flow, which was narrow, steep, and overgrown with bushy plants loaded with rainwater. Towards the bottom of the trail, as we began to hear the water-over-rock noise of the creek, ropes had been staked into the ground to help garnet theives like us down the slippery, muddy slide. Nathan showed us how the chunks of rock had garnets embedded in them, like purple, gem-like rock zits. Popping them out occupied our attention for a time, while Nathan headed down the creek to find richer veins. After we'd collected a handful each (keep in mind, they weren't very valuable - not pure, high-quality gems by any means) I was surprised by an "excuse me" from up the slide. I turned to face a State Trooper with a calm but stern look about him. He motioned for me to climb up to him. Ooops.
Though everyone in town (especially Nathan) said this new State Trooper was a jerk and a son-of-a-bitch, he was fairly polite as he informed me that garnet collecting wasn't allowed. He confiscated my garnets, but gave back all the other rocks I had gathered. He did however ask an annoying bank of those horrible, parental sounding rhetorical questions. "Are you taking garnets here today?" Yeah, a couple, but mostly just looking around. "Do you have a right to these garnets?" Um, I don't know. "So, pretty much no." Um, no, I guess not. "Well the owner of the mining rights here is the only one allowed to extract garnets. Do you have his permission to take these today?" No. "Well, I'm going to have to ask you to empty your pockets, and leave this area." Okay. Sorry. I didn't know.
Well, we did know, but we thankfully didn't get a ticket or anything.
We headed for Hamer and Wikan Grocery Store to pick up supplies for a gourmet dinner. I wanted to make Elk stew for the gang, and though Duane nor Dan were in the meat department, the lady who was there took me back into the freezer to find the stash of elk I had ordered at the beginning of the summer. Such a great small town environment - I told her it was $11.95/pound and that they ring it up as bone-in chicken. "Okay, whatever," she says and off we go to Larry's house to start the stew. Carey started the fire in the wood stove to begin drying our shoes. Later we relocated to Larry's lady-friend Nina's house who had a spectacular kitchen. The stew came out beautifully, the mashed potatoes were frighteningly rich, and accordingly I kept the zucchini and carrots on the healthy side. Carey and Nathan had cut fresh rhubarb at Larry's and Carey made a fabulous Rhubarb crisp. Nina added to it with some vanilla ice cream and a bottle of Pear-Caramel sauce. I might not have lain in bed later, groaning with fullness of belly, except for the four or five glasses of red wine that accompanied the evening. Gourmet definitely isn't for sissies.
Too bad we had to get up at 5:30 am the next morning. But, despite the rain, fishing day was upon us, so we were happy to. Larry was working the convenience/liquor/coffee/laundromat/RV-park store for Trinity so she had the day off to play. The happy/sleepy couple and Turbo the dog arrived around 6:30 am, we packed our stuff and hitched up the fifteen foot skiff. Stopping for coffee, microwave breakfast burritos, and frozen bait (herring), we drove quite a while to get to Banana Point. Launching proved challenging. The tide was almost all the way out and the launch-ramp didn't go all the way to the water; rock flats were at the base of the launch and our skiff needed lots of help to become water-borne. So, though Trinity is a foot shorter and half my weight, we share the same shoe size and I was able to squeeze into her Extra-Tuffs to help Nathan launch the skiff. We backed the truck down as far as we dared, waded out as far as we could, and rocked and shoved the skiff loose. But, not before I hit a couple of mud holes, getting submerged almost to my knees. I dried Trinity's boots out as much as possible and we traded back. Fortunately I had brought two extra pairs of socks with me. They all got soaked by the end of the day.
From Banana Point, Nathan steered us towards Zarembo Island (don't ask me where that name came from - I have no idea). We zoomed along the aqua blue water, still, but for the splatters of rain, as Turbo alternated between huddling away from the cold and sticking his face into the rainy wind to sniff the air. We made for the reportedly Halibut rich waters of St. John's Bay, and anchored once we found a spot with the right depth. With no shelter on the skiff, the seasoned fishermen aboard were obvious; Trinity and Nathan were covered in rubber raingear from head to foot. Carey very quickly donned one of the full body, bright orange, survival oriented Mustang Suits. I had very wet sneakers (though I pulled my wool socks on around lunch-time) and rain pants and coat. Nathan taught us the basics of Halibut fishing, and in very little time I caught the first fish of the day. Too bad it was a tiny little junk-fish called a Bull-Head. Pretty or ugly, I couldn't decide. Nathan and Trinity were great fishing guides, rigging and baiting the leaders at the end of our thick poles. Carey got things really going when she caught a 108 lb. halibut - first halibut of the day! Though she caught the fish, I caught it on video. I'm sure if you navigate to her myspace website after this weekend, you can find the video there. We ended up catching three more halibut that day, albeit a half to a third the size of the first one. Nathan did all the work, snagging the lazy, drifting halibut with his gaff, hauling them as they suddenly started flopping out of the water and into the boat, knocking them on the head with the back of the gaff, and bleeding and gutting them. He dumped buckets of sea-water into the boat to slosh out all the halibut gore after each cleaning, letting the bilge pump evacuate the rinse. The weather got worse as the day went on. We had plans to have dinner at Trinity's mom Rose's house that night, so we headed back around 4:00 pm after a long, exhausting, and wonderful day of fishing. The bad weather knocked us around a little on the way back, making double sure we'd all be sore in the morning. Back at Larry's house, we had to keep the shower cool for a while until our extremities warmed up a bit. Even the warmish water made my fingers and toes tingle with un-numbing needles. We had a wonderful dinner, and cleaned and fletched the halibut on Rose's back deck. I can't wait until September when I'll finally get to eat some of our catch.
Now, onboard the not-fast-ferry Taku, Carey and I will be sleeping in the reclining chairs tonight, waiting for Sitka to arrive at 3:45 am.
P.S. We actually slept on the floor.
