Back On Blocks Again, Part I

The season came to a close with relative success. The run did come late. According to a couple posts below, I had written right after we had a big day around the tenth of July. We were able to make a season (albeit below average in poundage) amidst extremely tough weather and a couple of late-season jam ups. We were a bit delayed by a fouled-up injector which eventually cleared itself, as well as a snapped towing bit which was put under above-average stress when the 2.6 knot open-water tidal velocity caught us with our pants down in the fog one morning. Other than that, everyone, including the Odie, is healthy and happy.

For my dad, this season epitomizes the dichotomy of curveballs and consistency that Bristol Bay has been for the last half a century. In one sense, every season is a new can of worms. The wind, the tides, the weather. Boat mechanics – is the engine going to start after a winter of wind chill up to minus 60? Are the hydraulics in good shape, or did something seize up during the off-season? How much gear is there to hang? What is the run prediction? When about the fourth of July rolls around, a whole new set of questions present themselves resulting from the first couple of realized weeks of weather and fishing and mechanics and business – when is the peak coming (if it hasn’t already hit)? Is this hydraulic line going to make it for another week? How old is that peanut butter in the cupboard? Three years??!!

But then, the other side of the story – the consistency. The fact that in a three to four week period, somewhere between 30 and 40 million sockeye salmon enter Bristol Bay for the river. Since 1960, ADF&G has managed this monstrosity of a natural phenomenon; and, although some seasons have been total busts, who would’ve thunk that in 2010, a river like the Kvichak has rebounded to a 6-8 million escapement to ensure future runs, so that in 2013 (unless something catastrophic happens), my boat and my crew can go harvest a percentage of this year’s newborn fry that will inevitably return as bright, adult sockeye? And the cycle repeats. The tides are always big. The weather is always unpredictable. The business aspect is always changing. But the product is sustainable. No added preservatives. And it keeps coming back, as long as we take care of it.

The different groups of fishermen who show up every year recognize this. The Norwegians, the Finns, the crazy Italians, and especially the Natives know that the redness of the meat of a fresh Bristol Bay sockeye signifies making a living, working with and against some of the craziest elements in the world, and augmenting the deep camaraderie between men and with the earth. Furthermore, that bright red meat makes a journey from the sea to the working hands of the fisherman, from the fisherman to the cannery, and from the cannery to the world. What happens when it reaches its destination? It nourishes and feeds those among us with fresh, organic product, harvested sustainably, high in Omega-3s, and rich with history.

See Part II.