In last week’s Part II, Leon, Bob and I
have just finished unloading 100,000 pounds of fresh Halibut. The other guys
have left to have a beer at Sollies Bar & Grill and I am ‘basking in the
glow’ on the cannery dock adjacent the fishing vessel Western Girl, the boat we
had just finished unloading.
I was still
enjoying the moment, standing on the B&B Fisheries dock looking across the
bay when the skipper of the Western Girl walked up to me. "You're named
John aren't you?" he asked with a strong Norwegian accent.
"Yup, John
Mickman", I said.
"Well, my
name is Nels and I'm skipper of the Western Girl here. I've been watching you
today, and I have to say I've never seen anyone fly at a job the way you
handled those fish today. You like working don't you?"
"Well I
guess so", I said. "But I've never really thought about it that
way."
He asked,
"How would you like to help me move my boat over to the Transient Float in
the harbor? My crew is still sleeping it off, and I could use some help getting
my boat over there."
"Sure, I'd
be glad to help", I said as calmly as I could. Actually I was just
thrilled to be able to get a ride on an actual fish boat!
"Ok John.
While I fire up the engine, why don't you throw off the breast line. The wind's
coming off our bow so we'll throw off the bow line next when we're ready to
go", Nels said over his shoulder as he headed for the engine room hatch.
Having been
around sporting boats all my life back in Minnesota, I knew what a 'breast
line' was and how to make lines off on mooring cleats. The breast line was wrapped around a dock
piling, so I took it off and coiled it up amidships.
I then walked
along the port side rail (left side of the boat looking forward) and stood by
the boats forward, port side mooring cleat. This seemed to be going pretty good
so far, I thought to myself. I heard the main engine fire up and a faint
vibration traveled through the wooden hull and up my legs. One of the cannery
workers was watching me while he smoked a cigarette up on the dock. "Hey
buddy, we're about to move over to the harbor. Can you take the bow line off of
that dock cleat and throw the end to me when I tell you in a couple of
minutes?", I asked him. He seemed just as excited about being involved
with a 'real' fish boat as I was. Of course he didn't know that I wasn't a 'real'
fisherman and that I didn't have a clue. "OK then, I'll let you
know", and I made small talk with the guy while I waited for Nels.
A couple
minutes later, Nels rolled back one of the wheelhouse windows and asked if I
was ready to go. "Yup, just let me know", I said. He could see the
cannery guy standing by the dock cleat obviously anxious to help throw off the
bow line.
Nels looked
around the starboard side across the bay to make sure there were no boats close
by and told me to throw off the bow line. "I'll let you know when to let
loose the stern line", he said to me as I walked past the open window of
the wheelhouse. The stern line was wrapped around a dock piling too, and I
waited for Nels' instruction before freeing it up.
He did a slight
maneuver and the bow swung free from the dock. "OK, let 'er go", Nels
yelled back to me over the din of the engine, "and then come up to the wheelhouse".
I did as I was told and found my way up to the wheelhouse. The Western Girl was
a 78', schooner type wooden fish boat and there was just barely room for the
two of us in the cramped wheelhouse. I quickly scanned the electronics he had
on board and noticed the marked up maritime chart on the chart table. This was
too cool!
Nels said,
"Leon tells me that you're completely green - never been on a fish boat
before. Is that right John?" he asked.
"Yes
that's right", I said, "but I've been around small speedboats and
sailboats all my life".
"Yeah, I
can tell you know something about boats. Say, why are you wearing those hip
boots?" he asked.
I looked over
at Nels and grinned. "Well, I'm trying to get a job on a boat and I
thought that if I wore hip boots, I'd look more like a fisherman. It seems to
be working pretty good", I said.
Nels roared
with laughter, "That's awesome, and a pretty good idea; you do look the
part", he said. "You know, my crewmen are all headed back to BC
(British Columbia, Canada) on the afternoon plane and I'm going to need some
help getting ready for the next trip. Would be willing to give me a hand?"
he asked.
I could hardly
believe my ears, but I tried to remain calm. "Well, yes I'd be glad to
help, but if I get a job on a boat I might have to quit before I'm done",
I told him. "What would I be doing?
"I have 34
Skates of gear that need to be overhauled. Do you think you can handle
that?" he asked. The look on my face betrayed what I was thinking;
"You don't know what I'm talking about do you?" Nels asked with a big
grin on his face.
"Well, I
have to admit I don't have a clue, but if you show me what to do, I can do, and
I'll do a good job for you Nels", I said.
Nels was
squinting as he looked through the wheelhouse windows maneuvering the Western
Girl toward the harbor. He glanced over to me, "I believe you will he
said. Halibut Skates are the long lines that we use to catch Halibut", he
said. "Each trip I insist on going through all my gear to make sure we
don't have any broken line, weak gannon’s or dull hooks. It is an important
job. How does $15 a 'skate' sound to you?", he asked. "That's the
going rate around here."
"It sounds
OK I guess, but I still really don't know what I'll be doing or how long it
will take. How long does it take you to 'overhaul' one skate of gear?" I
asked him.
"About an
hour", he said, "but it will take you longer. I've been doing this
for 40 years."
So, we struck a
deal; I was beside myself. I had just made $100 and now I had a job that would
take at least a week. As I was thinking about my good fortune, Nels was maneuvering
the boat into the cramped harbor; I was getting a little nervous. "Say
Nels, I have to admit to you that this is the first fish boat I've ever been on
that wasn't tied up in the harbor. What do you want me to do when we get to
where we're going?"
Nels roared
with laughter agian, "By God, you're something else John, and lucky. I
can't believe I'm running around with a kid from Minnesota who's never even
been on a boat before." I didn't think it was all that funny, but he told
me what I needed to do and tying up the Western Girl went just fine.
After Nels shut
down the engine, he came back up on deck and told me to come back in the
morning at 8:00. "Great Nels; I'll see you in the morning", I said as
I hopped over the rail and onto the harbor float. I seemed like I never landed;
I was just floating along. This was all
going to work out after all, I smiled to myself as I headed back home to
Paul and Sam's house. Sam liked Tequila, so I stopped by the liquor store in
town and bought her a bottle to celebrate my good fortune. Sam was thrilled!
I worked in the harbor on the deck of the
Western Girl for over a week, and met many more fishermen as I overhauled
Halibut Skates. After the shrimp strike ended, I earned a deckhand position on the
boat my buddy Tony was crewing on, the Pacific Pearl, and then I got a great
job on another boat called The Sogn. Although I went back to school that fall
of 1972 after a successful summer shrimp fishing (I made almost $11,000!), my work on the Western Girl turned out to be
an inauspicious beginning of a commercial fishing career that spanned a decade.
It all started out 'Flipping Halibut' after doing a favor for a new friend,
Leon. I guess they're right: "What goes around, comes around."
Although life seems to get better each
year, my years of fishing the frigid waters of the North Pacific and Bering
Seas were my most adventurous. By far.
John S. Mickman
Deckhand
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