Sitka or Bust: Commute The World

Going to a fishing lodge in Alaska, I was told that I would be eating fish, fish, and more fish. I just shrugged my shoulders and jutted out my bottom lip. I love fish. I could eat fish every day all day, as long as I had a shot of mouthwash on my person at all times. I constantly used to say that I would have loved to be an Australian prisoner when the entire country was nothing more than a criminal stomping ground. Why? Because all the prisoners ate was lobster. Mmmmm. I really enjoy lobster. But then again, in 4th grade I went through a baby bell cheese phase. Now I can’t even look at those little buggers.

Surprise, surprise. I have eaten a lot of fish. Many varieties too. There was tuna and rockfish, halibut and salmon, and I know crustaceans don’t count as fish, but they’ve been devoured too. Joseph, the chef here, is amazing at everything that he does. But sometimes a girl just wants a fricken sandwich you know. He looked so sad today when I scraped off a scoop of cannoli filling from my plate into the garbage can. I think I overeat here just to please him. Us northerners have to stick together, but my waistline is not on board with that plan.  You can tell the gourmet food situation is pretty bad when I clean out someone’s fridge after they check out, see the fixins for a bologna sandwich and seriously debate smuggling it back to my bunk. I do believe this is what they call a first-world problem.

Not everyone who checks out leaves such awesome stuff though. Today I opened a lint trap in a room’s dryer and found a smorgasbord of tobacco and cigarette butts. Now, because I watched all the seasons of Weeds available on Netflix, I know that it is possible to make hash in a dryer. I don’t think they were trying to do that though. So either a tiny Alaskan squirrel decided to hide his tobacco stash from his wife in a lint trap, or lodge guests are pretty ridiculous. I’m banking on the latter. People bring weird shit to the lodge and as a part-time housekeeper, I notice. My second day at the lodge I thought I’d found some sort of crack spoon. Seriously, I was just doing dishes and stumbled across this beauty. My first thought was to take a picture, the second was to wipe off my fingerprints. I have since learned that this was some sort of tea-steeping spoon. I will forever call it a crack spoon though.

Anyways, today was a rough fishing day for the clients. The Full House only brought in a 17 pound king salmon and a few measly chicken halibut (so nicknamed because they are roughly the weight of a decent chicken). No pictures today. The winds were strong from the west and the seas were choppy. Dramamine was necessary. I believe someone snuck a banana on board. A banana? Yeah. Bananas are banned from the fishing vessels at this lodge because they ward off fish or have bad luck carried on them. I only see a potassium deficiency coming my way.