Jack the Skipper Part III - A Story by John Mickman

As a greenhorn on a the commercial shrimp fishing boat out of Kodiak, Alaska, the skipper of the boat I was fishing on, Jack, was really putting me through the paces. This was just a summer job for me, and he didn’t like me much – or so it seemed…

At 4:30 AM, I woke up Jack with a cup of fresh coffee, and after growling a few choice profanities at me, took his place at the helm and told me to get breakfast started, but we would lower the shrimp trawl in about 15 minutes, and eat as soon as we were towing it across the bottom.

So that first trip began with Bert and me on deck, and Jack ruling the boat with an iron fist at all times. Because Jack knew Bert's dad and uncle, Bob and Evan Parker, and they had personally hired him, Bert began to be treated pretty well. But I caught hell no matter how well I did my job.

Trip after trip, he wouldn't let it go, actually, it got worse, not better. Jack was the Skipper, Bert was the Engineer and I was everything else. My work was never done. Cooking, cleaning the galley, the Head, the deckhouse and the wheelhouse (more clean than they had ever been I was certain), mending the shrimp nets both at sea and in the harbor, planning the meals and doing all the shopping when we were back in Kodiak to unload.

At those times, back in Kodiak, I barely had time to run up to Paul and Sam's house to do my laundry. After the cannery guys had the shrimp unloaded, I had to clean and scrub the hold 'surgically clean' so the next load of shrimp wouldn't rot. Then, put the water tight hatch cover back on, then to the ice dock to get ice, then to the fuel dock to take on fuel, then back out to the fishing grounds.

I was getting tired. We'd fish until about 11 PM, then have dinner, I'd clean the galley while Jack and Bert went to bed, then get everything ready for cooking breakfast before falling asleep. Being the cook, I got up first, started a pot of coffee, started the engines to get them warmed up, then when the coffee was ready, I'd wake up Jack.





The Sogn's anchor as we steam out of Jap Bay.

Then, my favorite part of the day would begin. While on these shrimp trips, we'd anchor up in Jap Bay where it was always flat calm, and at 4 AM, the sun was just lighting up the sky and the seagulls would begin flying around the boat. I'd go to the anchor winch on the bow, and when Jack gave me the word, always with a few choice adjectives, I'd start hoisting the anchor, making sure the wire rope, and then the chain, laid down nicely on the huge anchor winch drum.

I always brought a nice hot cup of coffee up there with me, and after Jack pointed The Sogn out to sea, I'd light up a cigarette, drink my coffee and watch the world come alive for another day. There were always many sea lions sliding off of their rock islands, and most times I could spot a Blacktail Deer or two darting off into the woods of the near shores. When the tide is out, the table is set, and many times I was lucky enough to spot a fox prancing along the tide pools looking for an easy breakfast. It was summertime, and many days were sunny and warm.

When we were a few minutes from where Jack wanted to set our net for the first tow of the day, I'd wake up my buddy Bert, and together we'd lower the net for the tow of the day, then eat breakfast while we dragged that first tow. Jack had a good feel for where the shrimp were and we always returned to Kodiak with a full load. It was 1972, and I was averaging about $1,000 per week - good money for these days, but a fortune back then.

Headed back to Kodiak with a full load of shrimp.

There were few things in my young life more satisfying to me than coming back up the channel into Kodiak with a full load of product. Fishing is the life blood of Kodiak, and being a working part of that was about as gratifying an experience as I had ever had - or ever would.

Life was good, except for Jack, who continued to ride me every chance he could. I was doing a good job for him, but his normal tone with me was yelling and cursing. I was convinced he wanted me to quit, but I wasn't a quitter, and he had no reason to fire me. Finally, just before the last trip of the season after which I planned to hitchhike back to Minnesota to finish up school, he laid into me like he was insane for absolutely no reason at all. I snapped and told him I quit; he could just get himself another whipping boy because I was 'outta there. I went into the crew's quarters, packed my gear and started to leave. To my surprise, Jack met me on deck and apologized. I couldn't believe it; I didn't think he had it in him. But it was a sincere request for me to stay onboard and finish up this next trip. I told him I appreciated the gesture, and if he agreed to treat me as the good deckhand I was, I would agree to make this last trip. He offered his hand and we shook on it. Big mistake!

After leaving the harbor with land being a mile or two from the boat, Jack came out on deck as I was finishing getting it 'ship-shape' and laid into me with a renewed sense of vigor and a fresh new set of swear words. Unbelievable! I suggested to Jack that he must have some kind of mental problem. That didn't go over very well, and the abuse rose to a whole new level.

That was it! I told Jack to turn the damn boat around and let me off; I quit. He calmed down immediatly, and gave the same sneering smile I had seen the first day I met him back at the dock of the King Crab Cannery. "John", he said. "We ain't goin' back. If you want to quit, start swimming." He turned on his heels and went back up to the wheelhouse. The next 4 days were the worst days of my life, before and after. He wouldn't relent. It was like he went berserk. I toughed it out and we got another full load, almost another thousand bucks.

When we finally returned to Kodiak, I finished my work on the Sogn, and went up to the owner's house, Frank Tennyson, to get my final check. Frank, who had been ill, was healed and ready to run his boat again. He told me how proud of me he was, and that during the past shrimp season, we had broken all the records for the most production the boat had ever had. He knew Jack was a tough skipper, but that he had heard from the Parker Brothers through their son Bert, that I was doing an awesome job despite the unruly behavior of Jack the Skipper. Awesome.

After leaving Frank's door, I began walking down his driveway, and up drove Jack. My heart sank. However, surprisingly, Jack had an actual full smile showing and he came up to me and offered his hand; I shook it. "John", he said. "I've worked with a hundred guys on deck over the years, but I've never seen one learn as fast as you, work as hard as you, and seen anyone enjoy fishing as much as you. Next Spring, after you get out of school, you come and see me. If I'm running a boat, I'd be honored to have your work on my deck. If I'm not running a boat, I'll make sure you get a job on one of my buddy's boats."

I was awe-struck. "What are you talking about Jack. You just put me through 3 months of pure hell. You never gave me a break. I had to learn the hard way - for everything. You gave me more work than anyone else on the boat. I haven't had a dinner on shore for the whole time and I haven't had a decent night's sleep for months. If you think I'm such a good deckhand, why did you wait until now to tell me?" I exclaimed.

Jack replied, "Because you weren't a deckhand at all when I hired you, and you knew it. You were a long-haired college kid on a lark. And by God, if you were going to work on the deck of a boat I was running, I was damned well going to be sure that you earned your keep. And you did that in spades. You did a great job for me. We all had a record breaking season. Thank you."

You could have pushed me over with a feather.

Along the Alaskan highway as we hitch-hiked back to Minnesota.

I did hitch-hike back to Minneapolis with my girlfriend and future wife Su, and finished my degree in the Carlson School of Management at the University of Minnesota at the end of Winter Quarter. But, I didn't stick around for the graduation ceremony. I thought long and hard about what I wanted to do with my life, at least right then, and knew that I wanted to go back to Kodiak, Alaska to fish. I got my job back aboard The Sogn and worked on a series of fish boats, each one better than the last, until I got on a boat called The Marcy J. I stayed five years before I returned to Minnesota to start Mickman Brothers with my brother Chris.

As my old buddy Tony says, 'Life is good'.

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!

Jack the Skipper Part I- A Story by John Mickman

PART I:
This story is third in a series of some of my adventures working as a commercial shrimp and crab fisherman in the North Pacific and Bering Seas in the 1970's and '80's. I had taken a quarter off from my senior year at the University of Minnesota, and hitchhiked to Kodiak, Alaska with just a hundred twenty dollars in my pocket. At this point in the series, I had just gotten back from my first trip on a shrimp boat, The Pacific Pearl, that my buddy Tony Jones had helped me get.

The Pacific Pearl

Tony Jones' older brother Chris arrived in Kodiak to take the second deckhand position on the old wooden shrimp trawler, The Pacific Pearl. After spending almost two months trying to find a job on a fish boat,  I had been secretly hoping Chris wouldn't arrive and that I could sign on to work with Tony. However, after meeting Chris I quickly changed my mind. Like Tony, Chris was an a great guy and the three of us became fast friends. After the shrimp were unloaded off of the Pacific Pearl, I helped them take on ice for their next shrimp fishing trip and watched them steam out of the bay while I watched from shore, once again without a job. (A year later, the Pacific Pearl sunk in Shelikof Straights and two men were lost.)

However, now I had a couple of new things going for me; I had experience on a shrimp boat and dozens of shrimp boats were now fishing. Certainly one of them could use another deckhand!

Kodiak, Alaska Harbor in 1972

So, I continued my daily route, covering the harbor, cannery row, Sutliff's Marine Hardware and the fisherman's bars - multiple times each day. It is a full time job getting a full time job, and I was on the docks by 7 AM and stayed with it all day and evening for another two weeks. I always wore my hip boots and now wore what we call a 'Halibut Hat', to keep the perennial drizzle off of my head. Although I had met over a hundred fishermen, no one knew of any jobs. It was becoming difficult to hear the same rejections time and time again, dozens of times daily.

One chilly, wet day as I walked along the dock of King Crab Cannery, a shrimp dragger named The Sogn had just finished being unloaded; I knew because I had been there earlier in the day while the cannery guys were unloading her. However, this time one of the deckhands was straightening the deck in preparation for another trip. It was low tide, so this guy was about 20 feet lower than I was while standing on the dock.

I called down over the noisy din of the cannery operation behind me, "Hey, do you guys have a full crew?". The guy sized me up as he craned his neck up to see me; yet another young deck hand looking for a job. After looking me over, the guy yelled up to me, "Yeah, we're one man short. Do you have any experience?"

I couldn't believe my ears; these guys actually needed to hire a deckhand! "Well sure", I called back. "I've fished with Dick on the Pacific Pearl!". The guy stopped what he was doing and said, "Dick is a good skipper. Come on down on deck." Oh man, this was it; if this conversation went well, I might get a job!!!

The MV Sogn - A combination shrimp dragger & crab boat

After scrambling down the ladder to the deck of The Sogn, the guy held out his hand and introduced himself as Ron Tennyson, the boat owner's son. Ron was a couple of years older than me and kind of hard looking, but had a real easy manner.  "Come on in the galley and get a cup of coffee", Ron said. "Let's get out of this weather." After he poured a couple of strong cups of 'ships coffee', we each fired up a cigarette and Ron explained the situation. "My dad is in poor health and hired a guy named Jack to run the boat for him. I'd run it, but I'm already committed to working on a salmon seiner in a week or two, so someone has to take my place on my dad's boat. Jack has promised to give a chance to another guy named Rick, but Rick doesn't have any experience like you do. I think you'd be a better deck hand than Rick. I wish you'd been here earlier", he explained.

Unbelievable! After working at keeping tabs on all the boats I could for almost two months, there had been a job opening and I didn't know about it -  and now it might be too late. I had an idea. "Well, I do have experience on the Pacific Pearl and I know I'd do a great job for the boat. How about if I went out for free this first trip and Jack can decide who he wants to keep; me or Rick", I suggested.

"Boy, that's a good idea", Ron said. "Rick is going out for free too because of no experience. I think Jack will go for it. He will be back aboard in a couple of minutes. Why don't you wait around and when he arrives and I'll talk to him about it?"

"OK, sounds like a plan. If Jack wants to talk to me, just let me know", I said just as I saw someone coming down the ladder from the dock. As this new, older guy walked past me on deck, I tried to say hi but he brushed by me without acknowledging my existence. Not a good sign, I thought to myself. 

After Jack the Skipper went into the galley, I stayed on deck, kind of close to the split Dutch Door of the galley to listen for Ron to call me in. I couldn't hear much of what Ron said, but I could hear that Jack was upset because he was yelling at Ron. "By God Ron, I'm the skipper; you have no authority to hire anyone when I'm in charge. I'm the Skipper and no one can hire crewmen except me. Just because your dad owns the boat doesn't give him the right to hire my crew." Ouch, I thought to myself. This may not work out after all.

Then Ron started yelling and he argued that Jack had hired an inexperienced guy and his guy (me) was obviously better because I had experience fishing with Dick on the Pacific Pearl.

I was nervous, no one has asked me just HOW MUCH experience I had - less than one day. When Ron called me to come in the galley, I was nervous. As I closed the lower half of the Dutch Door, I got my first good look and impression of Jack. In one word; ferocious! He was about 35 years old, had jet black hair, dark chiseled features and had an enormously strong looking upper body. His sleeves were rolled up exposing the most muscular forearms I had ever seen; they looked like Popeye the Sailor's forearms . He wasn't that tall, maybe 5' 10", but he had an extremely commanding presence. "So you've fished with Dick on the Pacific Pearl. Is that right?", he growled at me with one of the most intimidating looks I had ever seen.

"Yeah, that's right", I said. "Tony Jones was the other deck hand."

"Well the strike just ended 2 days ago", Jack said. "How long were you on board?".

This was the dreaded question. "I just fished one trip with them, but there were only the 3 of us on board; I know all there is to know about handling the deck work of a shrimp dragger. I was the Iceman, and we didn't lose one shrimp. I know Dick will give me a good word if you want to ask him", I said to Jack and looked right at him in the dim light of the galley.

"Ha", Jack said with a sneer to Ron, "You've only made one trip, and a short one at that. I don't call that experience. You're only a beginner. You're also a college kid aren't you. We're working men in this fleet; we do this for a living. I've already hired another guy".

After over two months trying to get on a boat I was not going to let this guy back me down. I used all the recently learned fishing lingo I could remember and told him he would never find a harder working deckhand than me. "I'll go out on the first trip for free", I suggested to Jack. "I know there is another guy you're looking at. Why don't you let both of us go out and decide for yourself after the trip, who will make more money for you?"

Jack said, "You're a long haired, hippy kid just looking for a summer job. I'm not interested."

That's when Ron jumped back in. "Jack, I've got to get off my dad's boat after next trip, and although you're the skipper, this is my family's boat. I want to see the best man get this job; it's important to all of us. Give this guy a chance. I'm going out on this next trip and we'll just see who the best guy is. Come on - doesn't that make sense", Ron said in an extremely convincing manner. It sure sounded good to me!

Jack pulled out a Lucky Strike and lit it with his well worn Zippo lighter. After taking a deep drag, he announced, "OK, we'll take the college kid this trip, but understand Ron, this is my decision, not yours. Fair enough?" Ron agreed.

So, the deal was struck (although I couldn't think of a more negative way to get a job). But, no matter; I had a job (even though I wasn't going to be paid). What neither Ron nor Jack knew was how motivated I was to prove myself. I had no idea who this other guy Rick was, but I knew he wasn't going to out-work me, and although I didn't have much experience, I knew the drill of a shrimp dragger. I was going to be the permanent deck hand on The Sogn, not Rick. There was no doubt in my mind.

Jack looked at me and said, "I don't like this idea, but I'm willing to give you a shot John. Get your gear; we're leaving for the ice dock in 20 minutes." Jack had a certain way of smiling at me, and this was the first time I saw it; the smile was more like a sneer - like he knew something that I didn't know - but should. I really couldn't read this look at all. Yet.  

"OK Jack", I held out my hand. He shook it with a vice like grip while looking at me with his spooky smile and told me I'd better hurry; he wasn't going to wait for me. I left the galley of The Sogn, scrambled back up the ladder and ran back to Paul and Sam's house to get my gear. I hadn't been this excited for a long time. Even though I was going to do it for free again, I HAD A JOB AS A FISHERMAN!

When I returned to The Sogn, the other guy, Rick, was on board as was the Iceman, Bert Parker. The engines were already fired up, and Jack told us to throw off the lines; we were underway.

Watch for next week's edition of 'Jack the Skipper' and find out if Jack chose me or Rick to work the deck of The Sogn.