NORTH TO ALASKA / PART 5

Leave it to me to provide a moment of hilarity for the others on board. In my rapidly declining state of mental alertness, I walked toward the cabin door, failing to notice a fish hold hatch cover had been removed. If the fish hold were empty, it would be a drop of about 15 feet to the bottom of the boat. Thankfully, I think, it was better than half full of fish. I fell through the 22 inch circular hole, a miracle in itself, and sank in fish up to my neck. Not being able to push my boots against anything solid, I felt as though I was suspended in a bowl of smelly jello. There was nowhere for me to go. The noise of the engine drowned out my cries for help. I lay there like the Pillsbury dough boy waiting for someone to peek into the hold from above. After God knows how long, Jimmy’s head appeared silhouetted against the sky as he peered down at me, only to disappear and then reappear along with Jim and Ray. I did not have to hear them to know they were laughing hysterically. With all the dignity I could muster I waited patiently for their laughter to subside so they could take the necessary steps to get me the hell out of there.

After having about all the fun they could stand they finally lowered me a rope. That was fruitless because I barely had enough strength left to hold a rope let alone climb one. About all it did was allow me to extend my arms overhead enough so that Jimmy was able to reach down and grab my hands. Like all men who have done this type of fishing for any length of time, he had forearms like Popeye and was as strong as an ox. He lifted my water logged, slicker clad body out of there and plopped me on the deck like a rag doll. I thanked him and went below to prepare a lovely meal of breaded cod. After which we again iced down the days catch.

Another three hours sleep and we were on deck for day three. Day three is a critical day of fishing for the Collier Brothers. Jim tells me that the fish plant will not take fish that have been refrigerated for more than three days. Iced down fish are considered refrigerated, not frozen. The freezer capabilities Jim has now allow him to stay at sea longer but at the time of my trip it was necessary to return to port after three days fishing, whether the holds were nearly empty or completely full. Ideally you would like to reach your 200,000 pound capacity as quickly as possible but at least by the end of the third day and then head for home. Fishing had been good for us and it looked like we would have a full load and be on our way home by sun down.

About mid-day Jim’s marine radio crackles. It is the Coast Guard calling and asking for permission to board. The Coast Guard will board for a variety of reasons including checking for compliance with marine and fishery regulations and drug enforcement. Due to poor visibility we could not see them but they were close by and had picked us up on their radar. In order for them to board it meant we had to stop, which meant terminating the current drag. Jim was irritated at the thought of losing valuable fishing time. He stalled as long as he could; knowing that every minute meant more fish. After repeated request Jim radioed them to stand by while we hauled back.

The Coast Guard boat, with its familiar red stripe running at an angle from the deck to the waterline, near the bow, appeared out of the mist. Being well over 200 feet long, it was an imposing site. They stood by off to the side and waited. As luck would have it we had our most successful drag of the trip. This meant the entire deck was waist deep in fish. The Coast Guard lowered four men and a boat into the water. They pulled up alongside and boarded. Jim took a perverse glee in watching these guys, in their starched uniform’s, plod their way through the fish to the cabin.

After examining the boats papers they went over every inch of the boat, from bow to stern. There are many stories of million dollar boats being seized by the Coast Guard and heavy fines paid for traces of drugs or even a filet of an out-of-season salmon in the freezer. It is common to be written up for an inoperable horn or not enough flotation devices. In our case we passed with flying colors. They thanked us, returned to the mother ship, and disappeared into the mist. While often expressing annoyance, commercial fishermen recognize that the Coast Guard is an integral part of their community. There are legendary stories of boats rescued and lives saved by the men and women of the Coast Guard, who oftentimes in this area, answer a “Mayday” call for help in some of the worst weather conditions on the face of the earth.