Alaska, 1990
Jan. 13, 1990 – 6:56 p.m.
On Amtrak going through Burlington, IA
Well,
we got off alright, cruising on Amtrak and it’s pretty alright. I spent the night at Dan’s last night and we
invited a whole bunch of people over – Glen, John W., Margaret, Mike White, Bev
McKean, Drew, Jessica, Dai, Julie Nieves, Amy Davis.
L-R: Me, Danny, Glen Proctor, Bev McKean, Drew Otto
Drew Otto, Me, Mike Burke, & Danny goofing off before departure
We talked forever
about everything and almost got into a fight about racism. Then Dan & I smoked in peace for a little
while after they left, then Bev came back and she and Dan talked in front of
the fire, so I went to bed.
Today we saw Drew and
talked to him for a while about his sister Jane, who’s in a drug rehab
center. We also spent the day w/ Mike
Burke and had lunch w/ the Plueddemann’s, then Shari came home in the middle of
it and said she had to break up w/ Brian. Then we left for the station.
Loading up
“All you need in life is ignorance & confidence, then success is
sure.” –Mark Twain
I met Mom & Dad & Alta, who saw me off, and we were
away!
Alta, Mrs. Plueddemann, Shari seeing us off
We sat
in the lounge car & talked about us changing, then we met these guys from
Schaumburg who were going to Denver for a ski vacation. We went down and played Rummy w/ them for a
while. Their names were Matt, Ted, &
Frank. They were pretty cool.
Jan. 14, 6:15 a.m., Mountain time – Colorado / Nebraska
border.
Dan
& I went to see the movie ‘Field of Dreams’ in the lounge car but it was so
crowded that we had to sit way back. We
sat next to an English girl named Lynn. We talked to her for 5 hours. She is way cool. She rides horses and
told us she rode in the Olympics.
I slept
pretty well on the floor and we will be reaching Denver soon.
Jan. 15, 11:41 a.m., outside Granby, CO in the Rockies
Wow! A whole boatload of stuff has happened since
I wrote over 24 hours ago. Dan, Lynn,
and I (her real name is Linda Cook, born Nov. 13, 1964 in Chesterfield,
England) got off and wandered the town of Denver which is a very
impressive town. Since it was Sunday,
the town was dead, besides which the Broncos played the Browns in Denver for
the championship. Broncos won. They play the 49ers in the Super bowl.
We did
everything, met a bum named Ron, tried to go to church but it was closed, had a
picnic on the front lawn of the capitol, talked to a hitchhiking prostitute,
tried to get into three museums that were closed, went to the zoo, tackled each
other in the duck poo in city park, ate tiny microwave pizzas straight out of
the 7-11 microwaves and drank a SuperGulp of Mountain Dew together, laughed,
wandered, lived, became very close friends and traded addresses.
Olympian Lynn
Dan & I hugged her on her way out to the bus and kissed
her cheek goodbye. Then, after she was
already on the bus, she ran back and kissed us both on the lips. That was cool.
So Dan
& I washed up in the restroom then headed out to make camp in City
Park. All day long it had been about 60
degrees, and as night fell it slowly dropped.
Dan & I laid out bedrolls under separate trees, smoked our pipes and
retired. It was a night from hell. The
temp dropped to about 25 degrees. He
only had his poncho while I had a sheet sack, poncho, & kikoye. It was unbelievably cold. We both kept waking up. The ground was hard and frozen, our feet were
numb, we kept chattering. It was a hard lesson learned. But we made it. We got on the bus to the train station and
the driver told us we looked like death.
When we told him we’d slept in the park he looked surprised and told us
people get murdered in that park all the time.
We got to the station and made our train to Salt Lake City.
Jan. 17, 10:00 a.m. Somewhere in Idaho.
On the
train to Salt Lake we met a guy named John, who was a Christian. He liked to talk so we talked for a while,
then we met this other guy who races boats. He was way cool. He had dredlocks in his hair, was drinking a
beer and telling us stories about the sea.
Then we went back to our seats and talked to this guy named Gerald, who
loved to talk, and had opinions about everything. He said to remember that success is empty and
meaningless. He’s a millionaire himself,
his son is a bum, his daughter is a fat, unwed mother, and his pride and joy
was his wife, who looked a hell of a lot like Kristen Allen and only talked
about cats. Then we met Cathy, a
beautiful girl with a child whose boyfriend left her. She was very nice and I got to fill up her
kid’s bottle for her.
Dan
& I got off in S.L.C. and called a homeless shelter, the Jesus Saves Rescue
Mission, which took us in even though it was midnight. We slept with the homeless that night and
they made all sorts of funny noises in their sleep.
We all
got kicked out at 5:30 a.m. so Dan & I went to the train station to clean
up. Then we went gleaning, but just our luck, it was garbage day, so we went to
Hardee’s and wrote post-cards. Then we got kicked out so we wandered our merry
way up to the capitol building which was pretty boring so we went to Temple
Square, where the Mormons hang out. We
were there for about 4 ½ hours. It was
way cool. They’re very nice people who
believe you can be saved by either the Book of Mormon or the Bible, and that
you can be baptized for dead ancestors.
So we
left and met Don, a street person, who we took out to lunch. He was very interesting, and was simple, yet
not stupid. We talked for a while then
met Nick, who was trying to get enough money to hop a freight train. Then we walked to a laundromat and washed a
few clothes while I called Aunt Vera. Then we bought some groceries and walked
toward the train station.
Our
packs were heavy and painful on our tired shoulders, so we stopped in front of
the Wendy’s where we’d had lunch, sat on a sidewalk planter and ate some potato
bread & Hi-C coolers. This drunk guy
approached us for cigarettes, but we didn’t have any. He hung around anyway,
acting stupid and drinking rum from a bottle.
Then he told us he liked men better than women. I wasn’t too surprised,
just kind of revolted and I felt sorry for him too. He had a filthy mouth and
kept going on about his sexual fantasies.
So we told him to go ask this girl who was walking up the street for
cigarettes. He did, and we felt bad for setting him on her. When she came up to
us we apologized, but she said it was no problem.
She
went and bought some cigarettes and came back to talk to us. Her name was Cathy, and she’d just quit her
job as a cocktail waitress. She’d been a
model since she was 14 years old, and had lived in Paris for a while. She was beautiful, and she offered to take us
out and show us the town, and a few bars. We were hip, so after we talked for
about an hour, her mother came to pick her up and she promised to return.
While
we were waiting, this guy named Richard came up to talk to us. He seemed very nice, then told us he was gay.
It was interesting to hear him tell his side of the story.
He said
we were on the gay strip, so after waiting two hours for Cathy to come back, we
decided to move on. We went to Denny’s,
where the waiter was gay. Ahhhhggg!
But, we
made our train and are on to Seattle.
Jan. 19, 10:50 p.m.
Aunt Vera’s house.
It’s
been a while. On the way to Seattle, a
pickup truck ran into the train. I guess
he was trying to beat it, then chickened out, only it was too late.
We made
it to Seattle alright, got in at about 11:30 p.m., then had to find the Metro
route and find Jenny Gott’s (formerly Jenny MacGuire) house. We were on our way when we stopped to ask two
girls what time it was. They told us
then offered to take us where we wanted to go.
Their names were Narasha & Jen.
Jen was blind. The drove us
around Seattle and we never found Jenny’s house or Aunt Vera’s. By then it was
my birthday, and the girls and Dan sang Happy Birthday to me at 12:01 a.m. The
girls told us they were activists from Skagway and hated Ronald Reagan. I didn’t like that. I don’t know why. So they dropped us off at a cheap motel,
where we spent the night and got showers.
In the morning,
we left the hotel and wandered the streets until we found the docks, where we
went boat to boat asking for work, always getting turned down but everyone
wishing us good luck. We commiserated
over a bowl of clam chowder & some fish & chips. Then we went to find
Jenny’s house.
We
found it, and met her kid – Jeremiah – and her husband Eric, and we all went
bowling. I cleaned up with a 139. We slept O.N. there, then called all sorts of
companies in the morning, and even locked ourselves out of the house.
We went
downtown and to the Fish Market – a very cool place – and spent the rest
of the day at the docks getting applications.
We stopped by Seattle Pacific University (SPU) and found out that Eric
Morgan goes there. Then we had supper at
Jen & Eric’s house and came here to Aunt Vera’s where we had a nice chat
and will now sleep.
Jan. 26, 8:29 p.m. - Lounge at SPU, overlooking North
Seattle.
About
all I can say about the last week is that we looked for jobs hard. Every day we took the bus from Des Moines to
Seattle, all-in-all about a 1 ½ hour trip. We called & went to almost every
freaking trawler company in Seattle and it was always the same thing, “Nothing
now, but maybe in March”. We got more
and more frustrated. Eric Morris had
some connections but even those didn’t pan out.
We walked & walked & walked & walked.
Finally, Eric gave us some advice. He said to be persistent, follow up, ‘bug
‘em’. Then you have the most recognized
face when it comes to being hired. So we tried it. And it paid off. We got hired by the Deep Sea Fisheries on the
fishing vessel (F/V) Olympic.
F/V Olympic under construction - Foss Marina, Lake Washington Ship Canal, Seattle, WA
Today was our first day. It wasn’t too bad. But work starts
at 6 a.m., so I’d better turn in.
Sunday, Feb. 4, 8:40 p.m. - Galley of the Olympic.
We’ve
worked 10 days now, and hard work it’s been, too. Carrying, painting, scrubbing, pounding,
loading, pulling, grinding, pushing, welding, cutting, climbing, untangling,
brushing, walking, getting cursed at, chipping, scraping, balancing… but it’s
all been worth it. We’re in pretty solid
with the guys now and since we’re the youngest on the boat, we get all the
scummy jobs and do all the hardest work.
We got our first paycheck on Friday for $351.65. I sent it home.
We
moved out of SPU after two hellish nights in the study room, which had a
constant stream of people opening the door, then the ironing room, whose floor
was hard as rock and was also constantly tried to be gotten into. We moved to a guy we met on the bus’s
house. His name was Eric and he was way
cool. We stayed there for a few nights,
then moved onto the boat.
Our
quarters are tight, 6 men to a room that’s probably 8 x 15 feet. In it is Merlin, a very cool guy who looks
like Robert Redford, Mark – Merlin’s friend – who is very funny. Both just
returned from Peru, where Mark’s wife is, and Merlin’s fiancé is. Then Tim, who’s 27 and looks 20, who’s been
working on boats for 6 years. Other guys are Victor and Javier – two Mexicans –
and Troy & Alex, a pair a lot like Dan & I, along with some
others. According to Chris, the work
foreman, we leave a week from yesterday, or on the 10th of Feb.
Alex & Merlin
Victor
Happy Javier
Tim, the psycho butcher-boss, on the crane controls
I don’t
really miss anyone yet, but lots can happen in 4 months. I plan on losing all the fat and gaining some
muscle, myself. Dan & I were praying
every night, but no longer keep up the practice in the crowded room. I have determined not to swear to any great
extent, as it would spoil my witness. Dan has taken to it quite readily,
however.
Feb. 15, 10:30 a.m.
The boy
had been keeping a very loose journal, only adding entries every week or so, as
all that had happened was pretty dull to describe in said journal, and he
hadn’t felt up to it, really. He finally
took pen in hand again and proceeded to relate of the toil, or lack thereof,
that he and his friend had been through.
It was
painting mostly, as all else was already done or required specialization.
Learning to weld from Pinball Pete (so-named because he kept bonking
his head on things)
Painting, and growing terrible muttonchops
Looking astern at the cluttered main deck, our sister-ship F/V Alaska
Mist (before it burned) in the background
They’d had a day off
one Sunday, and decided to go to church with their friend, Eric. The boy hadn’t been to church in a while, and
wasn’t at all sure he wanted to go. Once
there, however, it was a good thing for the boy, and he enjoyed it immensely.
He and
his friend then proceeded to walk down the sidewalk in the University district
to see what they would see. They stopped
in several used record & tape shops, and even purchased a few, had lunch in a Mexican cantina then moved on to the bus stop to get to the mall where
the boy received his first mark of manhood. After his ear was pierced, the left
the mall and went back to their ship, to gloat over their day’s adventures.
Ah,
what a grand time these two were having. Sometimes there was no work, so they
wrote letters home, and to friends, or just went into town. There were no parents, no rules, and they did
as they pleased.
Doing as we pleased, which did not include showering
Underway for sea trails on a misty Seattle morning
The finished product
F/V Olympic heading out for sea trials, derelict ship in
foreground, taken from Ballard Bridge
March 15, 9:06 p.m. – Exactly one month later.
We’re 4
days out of Seattle, on the Gulf of Alaska, where rollers toss our 450-ton ship
like a cork.
Dolphins keeping pace
Off the Canadian coast on the Inner Passage
Through the San Juan Islands
I’ve been a bit
seasick, but Dramamine and lack of work will chase it away. Mostly we string bait jars, tie knots, sleep,
eat, or watch movies. It’s very easy.
I took
out my earring today, as it was so infected that it was swollen 4 times over,
and had literally swallowed my gold post.
A bit painful and disappointing.
My tattoo is healing well, though, and looks very cool.
We eat
like kings, and I have put on a few pounds, 5 or 6, to be lost during the next
4 months. I get along pretty well with
everyone, better with Troy and Joaquin.
I’ve learned a bit of Spanish, and a few knots, which all comes in
handy.
Merlin, Danny, Victor reviewing knots
I’m
already looking forward to getting a motorcycle, going home, going to Taylor,
and seeing the gang. The Lord has blessed us beyond comprehension and while I
don’t often acknowledge Him, I now formally thank you, Lord Jesus, for your
guidance and help in our ventures. Your
praises cannot be sung loudly or long enough.
You are without comparison. We
deserve nothing, yet have everything. Praise the Lord Jehovah!
Sunday, March 18, 7:03 p.m.
I hear
Randy broke up with Michelle. I suppose
he’ll spend more time at home now, or perhaps they’ll get together again. She was his life, everything he did was
centered on their relationship. I feel
pretty badly for him. I can only imagine
how dejected he must feel. Ah,
Randy. I wish I could spend some time
with you, let you know I care.
Today,
I feel great. No waves. Yesterday was hell. After 5 days of holding my guts together,
last night they unraveled and let fly.
To be followed by the anchor chain clanking against the wall next to my
head on every wave, all night.
The waves were very high, and Dan felt bad too.
When I
woke up I felt great, ate brekkie, washed the dishes for Sharmon, the only girl
on the boat. She loves it when I do the
dishes for her. After lunch, I did the
dishes again, and she said, just within range of my hearing, “I think I’m
beginning to like this guy!” Not only
that but she touched me! She doesn’t
touch anyone, usually, but she placed a hand gently on my shoulder and one on
my back, and she said “John, I love it when you do the dishes for me, but where
the *&#% do you keep putting the
measuring cups?” It could only be love.
I do do a damn good job in the kitchen; it comes from my Honey Rock
training.
I was
tooling around with Dan up on the second deck, learning the Lover’s knot and
the Bowline, tossing a braided rope around like a Frisbee, cruising on a very
sunny day through the Aleutian Islands when Kim (the skipper) spied a couple of
pot buoys off in the distance. He
decided to swing by and pick them up. So we cruised over, snagged ‘em, pulled
up the pot and found 8 or 10 cod.
Cod - we ate it fresh every day and also used it for crab bait
Akutan Island, Alaska
March 20 - I wrote a
letter and story to myself and mailed it home, to remind me of the experience.
Dear
John,
Tomorrow
is Dan’s birthday and you get to give him that card you’ve been toting around
since Jan. 9. Today is Tuesday, your
laundry day, and you really don’t have that much to wash.
You’ve
been away from home longer than you’ve ever been away before, a little over two
months, and while you miss some of the people at home you really aren’t ready to go back yet. When you do, you’re thinking, it will be in
style, on a brand-new motorcycle.
You
took your earring out because it was badly infected. As soon as it was out, your ear healed in
about two days. It was goofy.
You got
seasick and puked, but didn’t tell anyone, so no one really knew but Dan. Being seasick is the pits. Your eyes ache, your head pounds, your stomach
roils, it’s the worst. But as soon as the
rolls stop, you feel great. It’s like a
switch is thrown.
You’re
looking at the next four months with expectancy, and a little despair, because
4 months is a god-awful long time. All you can do is wait and see.
Something
is starting to dawn on you, a thing that is seeming to be extremely important,
and something that you should pattern your life after. Dan lives by it and you should too: anything
that is worth having is worth going after 100%.
That means anything. It
has to do with your goal setting, also.
A motorcycle is worth having. French & Spanish are worth
having. A relationship with God and
knowledge of the Bible are worth having.
Good friends are worth having.
Go get ‘em, Ace.
Your
friend,
John
Morris
It
wasn’t so much the fact that he was four thousand miles from home, nor was it
that he was in the center of the Aleutian Island chain on a 187 ft. crabbing
boat while an icy wind blew over the calm waters of the Alaska Gulf. It was, he supposed, as he stood on the upper
deck watching the sun set over the island mountains leaving a burning trail
across the waves, it was the fact that he was not there. He could have been rowing a sampan in China
and he still would have felt the same; that feeling of want, of a fierce
longing that fills your guts with an ache to be quenched only by immersing
yourself in past memories, savoring them, then moving on to the next, and on,
and on, like an old man in a nursing home who has nothing but his memories and
a cold bed pan. Only the old man will
never again be able to create memories, while the boy knew that in just four
months he would again be with the gang, spending the rest of the summer making
memories, the same memories he would relive when he was old, if indeed that
ever happened.
Still,
with spring coming on and that vibrant expectancy of summer, which is always
the best, he shivered in the cold of the coming Alaskan evening and longed to
be with the gang, all on a ski trip, or maybe camping, huddled around a merrily
popping campfire, laughing and telling stories under the stars, forming that
special bond of a special moment, knowing it will never last but not caring;
that’s what growing up was all about and that’s what the boy missed. Sure he
was growing up, and fast, but it was always so much funner with a lot of close
friends to do it with.
He
wondered what was going on back in Chicago, who was going out with who, who was
going where, who had something new in their life. The funny thing was, he knew, they were all
jealous of him and his friend because of the wild adventures they were having.
“Keep
moving”, he muttered, and turned to go.
May 19 ?
This
venture of ours has treated us well. The
first trip was tough, working 18 hours straight, sleep 6, up again, for 20
days. But Dan & I both made about
$1700. We really got to know everyone
well, and Dan & I made the shit list for not working hard enough. Kim threatened to fire us if we didn’t work
harder. Our bodies craved only sleep, blessed sleep, all else didn’t matter.
I
learned a lot of different music, all of it played very loud. There was Eric, the guy everyone had it in
for, who got canned at the end, John, a big fat guy who hurt his back on the 3rd
day and lay in his bunk the rest of the time, occasionally coming out to pack,
me doing case-up (which I hate), life was a bitch. But we did it. We made it.
Don’t think. No past, no future, only NOW. Just Do It. You. Bust. Your. Ass.
Our
feet turned numb and started to fall apart from jungle rot, we got saltwater
sores on our wrists, snot dripped from our noses, our hands turned white &
pasty, we went to bed damp every night but didn’t care, woke up still damp, not
enough time to dry out, the hydraulics going constantly, 25 foot rollers, the
stink of dead, rotting crab underneath the butcher stands, puking on the floor
from the smell of the cookers.
Off-loading onto the Marlin,
busting ass all day, ‘Maxi-Stow John’ – that’s me – earning respect by hard
work.
Then
the second trip, 4 new faces: Jeff, a huge bear from Las Vegas, Matt, a
chinless dough-boy who’s lived in London and thinks more than you’d give him
credit for, Troy Sutor – Sharmon’s brother – and his girlfriend Mindy, a short,
petite, pretty girl of 22 who has a child, rides a motorcycle, shows horses,
and is not meant for this kind of life.
The second
trip lasted 25 days, not much work, mostly sleeping. I’m about 15 lbs. heavy from the rich food
but also much stronger and bigger than when I left. This time we offloaded our one freezer full
in St. Paul, a small island with numerous shipwrecks on its rocky, barren
shores.
A barely-visible shipwreck on St. Paul Island
We offloaded onto the Yellowfin,
a huge freighter with only 9 people on it.
A pretty neat set-up. We lost
Mindy, as she returned home to Idaho – for the best.
Third
trip, we’re 10 days into it, no much crab, no ice though, like last trip. The butchers & packers are getting good
and can empty the live tank in about 2 ½ hours.
I’ve gained much respect as a hard worker and am even looked to as a leader
in some things. I’ve worked in the
freezer while Sean sleeps and it helps put muscle on my bones, as well as
relieve the monotony of processing.
Every day I work as a deck hand at some time or another, whether I want
to or not, because they need the help.
It’s good experience, and I don’t mind the work, but I take a lot of
shit from the cocky deckhands and I don’t get paid enough to work out there,
but I’m the best out of all the processors, so it’s me. Brad, the first mate, and I are fast becoming
friends. I gained his respect by hard
work and my attitude, which is different from everyone else as I try to live
out my Christianity. He’s a good guy.
May 26
Not
much happening, crab coming in slowly, freezers filling slowly, time going by
slowly. We’re very far north, about 30
miles from the Russian border. We’ll be offloading on St. Matthew island at the
end of the month.
I think
about home a lot now, and long to see people.
I can hardly believe that Mattie & Cathy & Glen & Kari & Elissa & all my friends will be graduating in a week.
I wonder how Mattie liked Colorado? Still a long time to go, it seems, and much
money to be made to pay for college.
I
punched my earring back through and continue to clean it. It would suck to get
it infected again. Six months is a long time to do this
kind of thing, or be away from home.
Home is great, isn’t it? It’s
wonderful. I surely do miss it. Here’s
not bad, it’s just not great. Home is
definitely great. At home, people love
you all the time, you can do what you want, go where you want, talk to people
worth talking to, get away from laziness, selfishness, power-trips,
every-man-for-himself – surround yourself with friends who want the best for
you, making you want to look out for them in return. I’ve made some friends on this boat, Merlin,
Javier, Brad, Victor, Brian, Sharmon – all people who care, are humble,
hard-working and fun-loving.
May 27
I look
forward to going to Taylor very much. Surrounded by Christian people, open
space, 5 hrs. from home, friends, football, dorm life, studying, writing,
exams. I wonder how long I’ll last
before wanting to go somewhere. I’d like
to go to Mexico. I think I’ll try to go
during interim. I’d also like to do a
Wandering Wheels trip. If I do get a
motorcycle I’d like to drive to South Carolina some weekend, to see Cathy at
Furman. Furman! Jeez, why is she going to Furman? I hope Elissa decided on Taylor. We’ll have some kind of fun there together.
When I
get home I’d like to project a seriously fun-loving attitude, with a little
impishness thrown into it, be open, frank, honest, sincere, laugh a lot, tell
funny stories, let people know how you feel about them, don’t hide your
emotions, or be afraid to let your love show.
Just determine when is the right time for these things before you jump
in. Learn to control your tongue, leave
some things unsaid, don’t swear, if you don’t have something nice to say, don’t
say anything. When you start something,
finish it, be it a job, a conversation, an argument, a thought, an idea. Don’t ask anyone to do anything you wouldn’t
do yourself. Work hard at whatever you do – give 100% - go all out. Don’t even think about what other people will
think of you – 90% of the time you’ll be wrong.
Don’t complain, even if you think you’re getting stiffed.
June 9
As of
tomorrow we will have exactly one month left.
EEEEEYAAAAHOOOO!!
I’m
looking greatly forward to going home, do some camping, swimming, biking,
running, weightlifting, music listening, driving, lots of laughing, talking, bonding, and learning. Dan heard about something called Drive-Away,
where you are paid to drive a car back to its point of origin. Sounds like a plausible way to get home.
We
offloaded on the first of June, three thousand 70 lbs. boxes of frozen crab
legs. Troy Bygrave & I stacked every
one, as fast as we could. Boy, was I
beat. Then for a couple days we were on
the crab and processing 24 hours a day.
Setting records and filling the freezer fast. Now it’s not so good, but OK. All around us are Russian long-liners
dragging for whatever, thinking we’re in their territory. Big boats that all look the same.
A rare calm morning on the Bering Sea
A couple days ago it was 65 degrees and so sunny that I laid
out and got burned a little. 4 more days
of crabbing!
June 13
We are
a couple hours off St. Matthew’s. All of
our pots are stacked, plus some we picked up along the way. That was pretty
cool, picking up lost pots. One bag had
three pots on it. Kim came down from the
wheelhouse and showed us that he really does know what he’s doing on deck. Both Brad and Kim want me to come back in
January as a deckhand. I don’t think
I’ll miss school to do it, though. I’ll see.
Yesterday
was a long, hard day, with bad attitudes flying. I need to go see some other
people, need to get off this damn boat, get away from these same people I
see every day.
June 14
We
didn’t process for as long as I thought at St. Matt’s, only about 12 hours or
so, as we didn’t get an extension permit.
So we’re on our way to Dutch Harbor, to offload in Akutan. Lots of people are going home, some of which
I’ll be glad to see depart, others whom I’ll be sorry. Brian, Brad, Alex. Alex told me the other day that he liked me. It was cool.
I don’t want to see anyone from
home until I lose this fat, makes me sick, I’m 20 lbs. overweight, what a nightmare.
End of Journal
Exploring an abandoned military base in Dutch Harbor
Climbing Amaknak Point in Dutch Harbor with Javier
Fishing trip to Beaver Inlet, Unalaska – the whole crew, 23 people in
one truck.
Home
The reward!
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