Alaska, Vermont and life in between ..........: Fishy, fishy, cross my sea....

Dead fish cover the tide line along with a bloated seal.

My fingers didn't move in the way I wanted and I could hear Carter's words, "get the web off the head first. Pull it out of the gills, first one side and then the other and the head will come out." While some Sockeye appeared to have lazily entered the net, resigned to die, other Sockeye seemed to have a stronger will to live, causing their bodies to lie inextricably tangled in the net. During their contorted struggle for freedom, not only was the net fully lodged deep in both gills, but also around the fish's body in a tightening noose. At times, I found myself feeling sorrow for their plight, but I was much too excited trying to undo this cat's cradle gone wrong to dwell on this for long.

Our friend, Carter, is a commercial fisherman. During the fishing season, he lives near Naknek, located on the Alaska Peninsula and Bristol Bay. Bristol Bay is possibly the world's largest salmon fishery. There is very little in Naknek that doesn't pertain in someway to fishing. We had arrived at the end of the season. Drift boats were out of the water, cannery workers and fishermen were boarding planes anxious to go home. We would be fishing one of Carter's set nets with the hope of catching some remaining Sockeye headed from the ocean to their fresh water spawning grounds, most likely by way of the Naknek or the Kvichak Rivers. We had fish camp to ourselves and settled comfortably into our sleeping bags and bunks, anxious to be on the beach the following day. Carter generously did the middle of the night tides. There is little time for sleep when a tide every 12 hours acts like a dictator.

Looking from our brown cabin past the white outhouse and gear drying cabin, to the main cabin and out to sea.

I tried using the pick that Carter provided to release the net from the fish's body, but found it difficult to hold the fish and the pick. It was easiest to pinch the fish between my legs and using both hands I tried to figure out the tangled puzzle I was presented with. Unfortunately, the solution to the puzzle was not universal for all captives!

Bucky and I worked the first part of the 50 fathom net (6 ft = 1fathom) while Carter, with tote hooked to his waist, would do the remainder. Often the tide moved out more quickly than we did, leaving the fish high and dry. It was a toss up as to if it was better to fight the waves, retrieving clean fish, or retrieve fish left in the mud by the retreating tide, then having to find clean water to wash them. We most often worked in the water. Bucky eventually set up a fillet station on the tailgate of the pickup. Certain fish he would work on while others went into the large tote in the truck to be sold. Pink Salmon had to be separated out, bringing a lower price when sold.

cannery in the background

Occasionally, a flounder would be caught. This one we filleted. The net also collected sticks, dead fish and flotsam which we tried to clear out.

We passed by the Pederson Point cannery when driving onto the sand. It was here that we filleted some fish and had access to fresh water.

Pederson Point Cannery

We were particularly excited when Carter greeted us one morning with the news that he had caught a King Salmon in the net during the night. King Salmon fishing in the rivers near Talkeetna has been limited to catch and release due to poor numbers. It's been quite a while since we've tasted this excellent meat.

stripe where it was held by the net

Yum!!

Each tide's harvest was followed by a trip to the buyer. We started by selling to a good natured fellow named Pete and ended with sales to the Copper River Cannery. It became apparent that the season was almost over as workers spoke of cut hours and then Pete abruptly stopped buying fish.

Pete lifts our catch weighing it and placing it in his tote.

Most trips to sell fish were followed by a trip to the grocery store in Naknek. This well stocked store had everything needed. Alaskan prices are always on the high side, but the prices in remote villages are like comparing the Empire State Building to a Dubai skyscraper. I was at the point of being too hungry to listen to my brain tell me that what I was looking at was too expensive. I did, however, pass up the small yogurt for $3. A candy bar for $2 seemed like a buy!

This isn't the Costco size!

Good "ole" Vermount socks way out in Naknek.

We finished up our time with Carter by shipping home 165 pounds of salmon fillets and having experienced in the most minute way, life as a Bristol Bay fisherman. I've now seen enough to know that Naknek, much like Talkeetna, will soon return to its off season mode. Outsiders will return to their homes, some wealthier than when they came. Be it yellow gold from the mines, red gold from the sea, or black gold from beneath the sea, many folks work hard to enjoy what Alaska has to offer. However, when the cold winter winds blow, most look for a warm escape.