Jack the Skipper Part II - A Story by John Mickman

In Part I of Jack the Skipper, I had just been 'hired', working for free aboard the shrimp trawler, The Sogn. Now I had to earn a permanent berth aboard on the best shrimp boats in the fleet.

John Mickman with the MV Sogn in 1972

The Sogn was a wooden hulled, herring type seiner, built after WW II. She was 72 feet long and was half deck and half deckhouse with the wheelhouse atop the deckhouse on the forward half of the boat. A well maintained boat, The Sogn was white with turquoise trim. The shipbuilder that made this class of boats had a trademark of adding a laminated, iron wood guard on the side of the bow on which the anchor came up to protect the hull. This was a heavy duty work boat with huge wooden beams and ribs throughout. As The Sogn's wood 'worked' in heavy weather, I thought how perfectly named she was, as she would 'sing' as each sea pounded against her hull.  

This first trip on The Sogn was an easy one because there were four of us on deck, Ron, Rick, Bert and me; a full deck crew was only 2 guys. But, the big challenge for me was to prove to Jack that he should pick me instead of Rick as Ron's permanent replacement. I worked hard and knew the basics of the job. I helped chop ice in the hold for Bert who was Jack's official 'Ice Man'.

Bert was a couple years younger than me, maybe 19 or so, and had been fishing since he was a little kid. His family had been fishermen way back since they invented fishing, and his dad and uncle (Bob & Evan Parker) owned an old schooner named The Tom & Al. The Parker Brothers had fished up and down the Pacific Northwest for 50 years and knew every nook and cranny. They were a hard working, hard drinking pair and had more stories than they could remember. Bert had even hunted whales on The Tom & Al as a boy, and had operated the harpoon gun on the bow numerous times years before. Wild stuff; the Parker brothers had a reputation all up and down thousands of miles of the North Pacific coastline. Nobody tangled with the Parkers on purpose, and if they did, they all wish they hadn't.

Bert Parker with his Dad & Uncle's boat in the background, The Tom & Al

However, Bert Parker was a young, lanky kid and a hard worker, with a quick laugh, a crooked smile and a full shock of wavy blonde hair. He and I got along great and he really appreciated help chopping the ice in the hold - a truly thankless job.

After arriving at the fishing grounds, just inside of Two Headed Island, Ron and I lowered the shrimp trawl to the bottom of the bay; this went without a hitch. I joined Bert in the 'hold' and helped him chop ice into flakes in preparation for icing the shrimp. After we had enough ice chopped, I went into the galley made a batch of 'drop biscuits', drizzled a healthy dose of butter over the top of them and passed them around to the crew with a fresh pot of coffee. We had about an hour to kill after Bert and I had chopped enough ice, and we all lazed around the deck, chewing our biscuits and washing them down with coffee. The sun had come out, and we were all enjoying the day. Then Jack yelled down, "Lets pick 'er up boys - see if we got anything."

Ron enjoying a lunch of raw shrimp.

Ron and I ran the winches together to left the net off of the bottom and when we brought the first 'tow' to the surface  it was a good one; about 3,000 pounds of shrimp. The gear on The Sogn wasn't heavy duty enough to handle that much poundage all at once, so we needed to 'split' the catch several times to get it all on deck. This took awhile, but it went smoothly, and after about 20 minutes, we were able to get the net back in the water, fishing again. During this whole time, Rick had to stand off to the side because he didn't have a clue as to what was going on. I helped Bert ice the shrimp down in the hold, while Ron and Rick shoveled them through the 'man hole' hatches. With 4 guys, this was easy work.

Jack was ever vigilant. While we were 'towing', he could engage 'Iron Mike', the auto-pilot we had on board, and walk across the top of the deck house from the Wheelhouse and watch what was happening on deck. He had a very colorful, profane vocabulary, and he used it skillfully to make his points. "Who taught you (swear word) how to fish? Pick up the pace down there or I'll have some other (multiple, adjective swear words) to work on my deck. C'mon, let's get going down there you (embarrassing swear word)", Jack yelled down to us.

 Although he was trying, Rick just couldn't get into the rhythm of shrimp fishing. He was making mistakes, and one time almost crushed my right arm to pulp between the port side stanchion and one of the huge net spreading, steel 'doors'. Ron saw what happened, and read Rick the 'riot act'. "The most important thing is that we all get back to Kodiak in one piece", he yelled at Rick. "You better pay attention or stay in the galley mister". This was really a very close call for me and a good lesson. I learned to watch carefully, listen hard, pay attention and move fast at all times on the deck of this, and the many other boats I was to fish on over the years.

I was Jack's designated cook, and did the best job I could, thinking up meals I thought Jack would like. Obviously I hadn't done the grocery buying, but the galley was pretty well stocked. The stove was an old fashioned, flat top wood burning stove that had a small oven and a large griddle on top, but which was fired with diesel fuel instead of wood. It was hot by the firebox and warm on the other end. It was pretty hard to cook on this antiquated creature, but I did the best I could coordinating meals so that everything was finished at about the same time.

The way eating works on a fish boat is that when the cook finished making the meal, he then calls the crew in to eat. While they eat, the cook goes into the wheelhouse to 'watch the wheel' while everyone else enjoys their hot meal. When the skipper finishes, he comes up to the wheelhouse and the cook (me) goes back down to the galley to eat a (now cold) meal. I didn't care or complain; I had every intention of getting this job.

Jack never gave me any encouragement or instructions. However, Ron was a good instructor and Bert gave me many tips as well; neither of them cared for Rick very much. After three full days, we had filled The Sogn with a full load of 75,000 pounds of shrimp and began the 8 hour trip back to Kodiak from the 'Two Headed' fishing grounds near the South end of the Island. During that trip, Jack announced that Rick would have to get off the boat; I was hired as a deck hand, albeit at a half share percentage until Jack felt I was worth a full share.

John & Rick in the hold - covered in shrimp.

The crew of the next trip was comprised of Jack the Skipper, Bert the Engineer and me as Deckhand and chief cook. Just after we threw off the dock lines and headed out into Chiniak Bay, Jack came out from the Wheelhouse, walked across the top of the Deckhouse and looked down on his lowly crew."OK you sons of #@##$". Jack yelled at us. "Get that deck shipshape and I want to have dinner on the galley table by the time we get to Cape Chiniak. What are you guys looking at; get to work!", after which he turned on his heels and strode back into the Wheelhouse.

"Jeez Bert, I sure wish Jack would mellow out a little bit?" I said as we turned to.

"John, Jack is the Skipper, he doesn't need to be a nice guy. He is the final word on everything, like a King of something. We just need to try to be one step ahead of him all the time so he doesn't have a excuse to yell at us," Bert offered.

"Yea, well it isn't very fair", I replied.

Bert started laughing, "Fair hasn't got anything to do with it John. You're at sea now; different rules."

Well, Bert and I turned to, and got the deck ready to go to sea, during which time I turned up the heat on the galley stove and let some steaks marinate. Dinner was ready just before we began rounding Cape Chiniak, and I climbed up the latter to the wheelhouse and told Jack the deck work was complete and his dinner was ready. He instructed me to keep a course between Uyak Island and Kodiak Island - right down the middle. "Got it Jack", I told him as he brushed by me on his way down to the galley.

The sun was getting lower in the sky, but at this time of the year it doesn't actually get dark until about midnight. The sea was a little lumpy, with a good sized chop on top of a rolling ground swell coming in from the Southeast, but The Sogn was a pretty good sea boat in moderate weather, and the ride was pretty comfortable.

I had brought a cup of coffee up with me and lit up a cigarette. Not bad I thought; Jack doesn't seem to like me much, but that's OK, I can deal with it. As I watched sun play on the surface of the water, a small school of Dahl Porpoises came alongside and began swimming back and forth across the bow of The Sogn. Cool.

After 20 minutes or so, Jack returned to the wheelhouse and told me to eat dinner, then get some rest; Bert was going to take the first Wheelwatch. My dinner was cold by then, but there was plenty of it, and I was hungry. After cleaning up the galley, I sacked out in my bunk for about 3 hours, when Bert woke me up to take my 4 hour Wheelwatch. I started a fresh pot of coffee and then relieved Bert. "So when we get to the Two Headed fishing grounds, do you think we'll get some more sleep Bert?", I asked with a big yawn.

"You're kidding right?" Bert replied. "By then it'll be 5 AM, time to start fishing again. I'm going to get some sleep. See ya in a few hours", he said as he went below to the crews quarters. I only got 3 hours of sleep that night, the same as most nights for the next 3 months.

End of Part II. Watch for next week's conclusion of ‘Jack the Skipper’ and find out about the surprising ending of this tale!