Sitka or Bust: Commute The World

On a beautiful day in Sitka, Alaska I got up at 3:45 and pulled on the warmest clothes I owned. Generally speaking, I was highly unprepared for the damp cold and wind that soaked me to the bone, but I was still representing Michigan Tech with my apparel. Go Huskies. The water was choppy, but I do believe the cast of Deadliest Catch would have said that it was like setting sail on a baby’s ass, all smooth and calm, but with the occasional gust.  Just on the way out of Eliason Harbor I saw a few whales, a sea lion and an otter. The otter and sea lion were just chilling in the wake of the boat ahead of us. I heard somewhere that they like to do that because the boat props confuse the fish, making them easy pickings for breakfast, but this also means lots of accidents involving marine wildlife.

I was just excited to be rocking the Morton’s Fisherman attire, though I ditched the yellow smock almost instantly because the sleeves were too long. But it was really a beautiful day on the water and proved unnecessary anyways. Not having been much of a deep-sea adventurer, I was extremely worried about getting seasick, but apparently I need to become a longshoreman because I was just rocking and rolling on those waves. As soon as we stopped moving and dropped anchor half my party got taken out by the dreaded seasickness so you had to be careful stepping over legs and not bumping those who were sleeping away the day.

It left more freedom to fish though. I was mooching for salmon, and got a little worried when three fish had been dragged into the boat and hadn’t gotten mine, but right after that thought crossed my mind I felt the undeniable tug on my line and went apeshit pulling that monster through the water.

I need to work on my upper body strength, I’ll tell you that. Holding the rod out of the rod holder for an hour and a half had already wrecked me and then I had to pull a fish from the water when he was clearly happier under the surface. Within the next ten minutes, I’d dragged a King salmon and a Coho out of the water, Coho’s not even supposed to be found this early in the season. Apparently he heard my siren song.

Once we’d caught our limit on King salmon, we headed to another secret spot for some halibut soaking. Halibut are some nasty looking flat fish that lurk on the bottom of the ocean, laying on their food to keep it safe. They are born with both eyes on opposite sides of their body, but gradually one eye shifts to the darker side making them look like someone stepped on their faces. I caught my little flatty after a bunch of Lingcod grabbed hold of my hook and made me fight for them. Unfortunately the Lingcods were way too big to fit in the regulation size slot, but I was stoked just to have caught them and brought em up all by myself.

The day was eventful, and overall the sea only claimed the life of one person’s cellphone making it a success. I feel much more comfortable on the open water and hope to be going out again soon, especially since I was so engrossed in actually catching fish that I neglected to take as many action shot pictures as I could.

Because tonight was a day off from the dish pit, I actually had enough time to go out to the store before it closed. Usually, everything around here seems to shut down at a ridiculously early hour. Hello Houghton, I thought I’d left you for Sitka, but apparently you are distant cousins that very much resemble one another. I made it into the store with precisely enough time to locate my list of super sweet fishing gloves and sunglasses. I was notified this morning that I’d be going out fishing tomorrow and had to prepare ASAP. Of course, when I was packing for Sitka, I picked up my sunglasses and thought to myself, I’ll never use these buggers in dreary Alaska. Boy was I fooling myself. The glare off the water is enough to blind you and realistically I’d rather keep the limited sight I have left.

I imagine my day to be sun filled and easy fishing, barely throwing out my line before a monster salmon or halibut snatches it up. More likely, as soon as we throw the line from the dock I’ll be puking my guts out over the side like classy individuals do. Good thing I inherited some Bonine (sea sickness meds) from a recently departed guest’s room. No he did not die, he just moved on. Wow, I really can’t get away from those death references. Alaska must be zombifying my brain.

Anyways, I just wanted to let you guys know that I’ll be out fishing, catching the monsters of the ocean, and bringing back plenty of pics to show for it. I know reading a stagnant blog without pictures can get pretty boring pretty quickly. So instead, I’ll show you the deckhand I wish was going out on the boat with me tomorrow.

Housekeepers are like hand grenades. They are constantly ticking away just a single moment from taking off your fingers. We are an undisputedly unappreciated group that deals with strange horrors on a daily basis. Yet, for being such a constant part of a war-zone, we have all developed intriguing and brash senses of humor. Similar to when men fart in groups, we invite one another to share in the oddities or absurdities we find while cleaning and tidying. You can be two bedrooms away from another housekeeper, only to hear her say, “Ew” and come running instantly. Of course, you play it off like you’re being forced to witness such atrocities, but realistically you are just trying to one up each other with the gross factor.

I may find stained sheets and call someone over, which means they have to pull a hair plug out of the sink and shake it around the bathroom. This game keeps things from getting old, but at the same time, I find my lady-like behaviors deteriorating for something more rugged and callous. It is at once freeing and terrifying. To follow is a top five list of the things housekeepers appreciate being tipped with:

• Money. This is always welcome. Especially when we had to fold your old man drawers and pretend not to see the skiddies.
• Food. I love receiving random gifts of food. Twizzlers have been a hit this year, although I have also accepted unpopped popcorn, a half eaten pizza, and almost, the makings of a bologna sandwich.
• Beverages. People just love to leave booze. Unfortunately, all booze left here must be turned over to El Jefe pronto, to be divvied up behind the scenes.
• Toiletries. I don’t know if many of you have ever been to Sitka, but it is damn expensive here. Please feel free to leave your shampoos and shaving cremes. The lodge staff would be a grimy bunch otherwise.
• Plane tickets elsewhere. I have yet to receive this one, but I can only hope that it gets left for me soon. 

Gifts like these help housekeepers forget they had to touch your KY jelly or unplug your clogged toilet. Don’t forget about them when they clearly rearranged your room while you were away.