red

the reds came in the other day.  only about 4700 pounds.  they scoffed at that.  they want to hear 70,000 or 100.  it was exactly what people think of when they imagine themselves in alaska working in a cannery. but again, you call it a plant. 

fish guts everywhere.  i mean everywhere.  guts.  and roe.  all over the place.  there is a huge machine that takes the heads off and guts them.  they come through a chute one by one as if they were swimming in the water.  they spill out onto a conveyor belt with no heads and their bellies split open, showing the fillets.  tails in tact. 

most of the reds we had were probably about 15 to 25 pounds.  i was right at the opening of the chute.  i could see them coming through the thing.  they come through like cars at an automatic car wash.  there is a hose at the chut that runs clean water down the line.  there are probably about 10 to 12 people on the line.  most inexperienced at the beginning.  the fish get cleaned more specialized as they go down the line.  eventually they get packed in totes with varying levels of ice.  each tote, with ice and fish weighs roughly 1000 pounds. 

i was using a tool that was essentially a knife with a spoon on the other end.  mostly you use the spoon to scrape out remaining guts the machine did not get.  no fish comes out perfectly clean.  sometimes i need to use my knife to cut stuff out.  but i was instructed to only do one scoop with the spoon.  and very specifically to not cut into the fillet. 

down the line they have a spoon scooper thing that is attached to a hose that spits clean water.  as they scoop out more stuff, they're cleaning as well with the hose. 

everyone is wearing hairnets and beard nets.  and masks on our faces.  remarkably it does not smell bad.  not at all.  the next day does though.  i think it's the drains underneath.  but to look at the place you would think you're in some industrial kitchen or something.  all stainless steel.  the clean up after we process the fish is intense.  huge hoses that throw soap, like a car wash, but way more like fire hoses.  people everywhere with brooms and squeegies.  green scrubby pads all over the place.  everyone wearing rain gear.  stood in a puddle of fish guts and blood about a foot deep because the drain stopped up.  people all bent over pulling bits of carcass out of the drain. 

they love it.  they can't wait to get to it.  they want more.  the plant has huge bay doors on both ends.  forklifts going this way and that, carrying totes. and they leave them open.  so at anytime you could look out to see the sunlight.  it's very energizing.  not like being in walmart or something.  where it looks the same all day, all night.  it's nice to be able to look out the bay door, and see some birds, or some trucks rolling by.  whatever.  you never get removed from the fact that there is a world going on.  or that you're in alaska, and not wherever, wherever.  not that there's anything wrong with wherever, wherever.  but it's not the fucking Kenai Peninsula on the summer solstice.  that's for sure. 

 

 

Fish On

that's what they say when we have fish.  today some Halibut arrived.  it was finally the first time i got to see this place do what it does. 

i was on the docks when the fish came in.  one guy, our guys, gets on the fisherman's boat and pitches the fish into a tote.  a crane lifts the totes up onto the dock.  about 25 feet up.  we're up there with totes full of ice.  we had this entire set up of stainless steel tables designed for sorting the fish.  we weigh them and it gets recorded automatically on like a receipt.  he then slides it into whatever tote it should go.  one for 15 to 20 lb.  21 to 30 lb.  31 to 40 lb and then 41 and over.  we had a 93 lb halibut come in.  my job was to belly ice them.  shove ice into their bellies.  the fisherman clean them a little bit on the boat.  enough for us to get ice in there.  i then shovel ice over the fish in the totes.  we clean up, hose stuff down, load the tables and stuff on the trailer.  forklifts take the totes away.  it is amazing.  but i guess not really.  for them it's not a big deal.  the way steel workers in pittsburgh must feel.  it's just what they do.  for me, it was amazing.  and real hard work. 

went fishing with sean yesterday and met more nice people.  it was excellent.  drank way more beer than i should have.  stood in the sun way longer than i should have.  but whatever. i'm in alaska and i'll have very few days like that one.  the afternoon off was a freak accident and just so happened that sean was free as well. 

we went onto the Kasilof river.  it is glacier fed.  the nicest color blue i've ever seen because of the glacier silt.  we fished for king salmon. didn't catch anything for real but it was an amazing time.  i enjoyed most standing in the river with the hip waders on.  the temp of the river felt amazing on my legs. refreshing like going swimming.  it was also fun to just stand in the river and drink beer.  a very haystacks thing to do in alaska. 

the ice house

today at 5am i got aquainted with the ice house.  we wore full rain gear.  rubber boots, overalls, jackets, and gloves.  the ice house is probably about 20 yards long and 8 yards wide.  there's a grate on the floor with giant corkscrew type thing called an auger that grinds the ice up  more.  it spits the ice out a chute on the side of the building into a tote.  a tote is a plastic, well insulated container that is a pretty much a perfect cube.  the forklift holds it up to the chute and it gets filled to then be taken to the boats for the fisherman. 

so we were in there breaking ice up because something was wrong with the thermostat and it froze a shit load of it.  the floor is not entirely flat.  it is stainless steel at a 45 degree angle from each wall down to the narrow grate.  we had to pick the ice into chunks and kick it into the grate.  had to get done.  boats were trying to be launched. 

we continue to paint those damn bunkhouses.  should be done tomorrow. 

the food is good here.  8am.  noon.  5pm.  we get fed very well.  i do not have to clean up.  i do not have to cook.  i leave a laundry bag on my door.  the housekeeping dept does a very nice job keeping the bunk area clean.  my life is very different here.  living alone in MD i do everything.  this is kind of a vacation in a way from all that stuff.  i enjoy not being tied to a clock so much.  i do not miss my car for some reason.  it is the ultimate symbol of freedom.  but i don't miss it. 

painting bunkhouses and launching boats

yesterday was a long day.  worked all day on some more plumbing jobs.  then i agreed to do some more painting after dinner.  big push to get these bunkhouses painted before monday.  i guess with the beginning of salmon season, there's a huge barbecue with all the fisherman and everyone from here as well.  supposed to be some killer salmon burgers.  cannot wait for those. then after dinner we worked from 7pm to midnight.  crazy.  still plenty of light.  lots of other people out there as well.  carpenters.  electricians. and then they were right there again at 8am when i walked out. 

today i helped launch my first boat.  Robert backs the truck up with the trailer and i help direct him right under the boat.  lots going on.  a lot of shit under those boats that cannot be hit or damanged.  sonar things and whatever else.  learned how to properly tie the rope to the cleet on the dock.  always just kind of granny knotted it.  but with boats on harvey's lake or whatever, there isn't enough weight to them to really make much of a difference.  with the weight of these boats, it has to be right, or you're cutting that line.

i enjoy mornings around here very much.  the sun is low for quite a while and the colors are so intense and seem saturated.  same thing happens late at night.  but in the morning there's a real nice vibe about the place.  people are cool.  breakfast smells good.  coffee.  sit and look out at the river, volcanos in the distance.....

there's a general feeling of anticipation that is building.  when the salmon season starts and fish starts coming in....then it will be on.  this place will be smoking.  i'm excited for it.  i do not mind painting. kind of even enjoy it.  but i did not come here to paint. 

my job

today i got my job, what i'll be doing when this salmon starts to come in.  right now we're waiting for the official beginning of the season.  6/26 i believe is the first day.  they say it will be insane.  the river will be red with salmon by mid july.  locals get to do 'subsistence' fishing.  they just use nets to bring them in.  25 for the head of the house, and then 10 per person. 

i'll be working with the truck driver on the docks.  i'll be his helper.  we'll launch the boats and take them out of the river.  i'll be directing him while he's backing up with the trailer, stacking pallets and whatever else to prop up the boats.  probably should be calling them ships.  i don't know.  i'll call them whatever they call them. 

today we did some plumbing.  fixed some water lines that run out to trailers that some of the guys have that live in the yard.  it pretty much took all day.  the pipes were messed up from being frozen in the winter.  we had to rig stuff up to get them to work.  it was pretty interesting. 

today the cook arrived and made meals for us.  it was great.  the break room has long tables with benches like you have at summer camp, or like you see in movies about people in prison.  snack machines.  soda machines.  all the normal stuff. 

i did not anticipate the sun to be so high throughout the day.  i thought that it was lower on the horizon all day.  the way these long days had been described to me was that it just kind of rode the horizon all around and then dipped down for a little while, and then back up.  not the case at all.  it comes up gradual and nice.  once it gets up there, at about 11am, it just stays there until close to 8.  it moves parallel all that time with no arc.  the weirdest thing ever.  the shadows never move.  real contrasty photos for most of the day this time of year.  best photos will be from 5am until about 8am and from 9:30 or so until about 11:30. 

the moose and the dog

took care of business today.  had to formerly fill out an application.  just to be on file.  whatever.  i drank coffee and listened to people talk about alaska stuff.  dealt with direct deposit.  got a key for my room.  got a punch card for the time clock.  i think of the restaurant Theo's Metro in Kingston that has the timer and the punch thing and all the cards still there from when the building made whatever it made.  candy?  i think it was candy. 

the company, Copper River Seafoods, built all these new bunkhouses for employees.  they won't be operating until next year.  they're still being built.  today we painted them.  lucky i used to work as a painter so i didn't have to ask any questions.  i just found ways to keep busy.  it felt good to be fooling everyone into thinkng that i know what i'm doing in alaska.  they don't know that i'm a walt whitman wannabe.  ha!  (he worked every job known to americans from school teaching to working on the docks to logging to construction...)

at any rate the sprayer shit the bed and we could not continue the painting.  i ended up being assigned to straightening out the work shop.  there were boat parts and machine parts i had no clue about.  i just put alike parts with alike parts.  i tried to find a balance between asking proper questions and asking too many questions.  i didn't want to seem like i didn't know what i was doing.  and i didn't want to fuck anything up.  i felt like i was playing the game Memory, putting the pineapple with pineapple.  putting the 1/4 inch hose clamps with the 1/4 inch hose clamps.  finding a place for a tool that i've never seen that weighs 32 pounds. 

and then i met up with sean wedemeyer.  we ate some shrimp and some smoked hoolligan.  saw a moose.  met some nice people and some nice dogs. one of the dogs scared the moose and it took off into the next yard.

i'm exhausted right now. 

the machinator

got to the plant.  walked through the building, saw where i'd be staying, and eating, and shaving.  then we walked out to the dock, about 25 yards to the Kenai river.  The machinator was propped up on pallets and other means.  a 12 foot step ladder lead the way up onto the deck.  we immediately started installing a water cooling system.  in the belly of the boat is a room about 10 feet wide, 8 feet long and about five feet tall.  called the fish hold.  for years that place needed to be manually packed with shaved ice in layers for the fish to sit until they could then be manually unloaded into the plant for processing. 

we were installing a water cooling system.  the fish hold will now be completely filled with water.  kept at 32 degrees.  the fish will just be thrown down in there.  and then they will take a big vacuum thing and suck all the water and fish out to then be taken into the plant for processing. 

if Randall Jarell were working here he would probably have written a poem about it like "The Ball Turret Gunner."  where the belly of the boat is some kind of metaphor.  some kind of life providing thing or something.  like the belly of the plane in the poem. 

the boat was built in 1979 and commercially fished for twenty some years.  now the machinator just sits off shore so the big boy boats with all the catch don't have to come in close to shore.  they will use the vacuum hose thing to put all the fish directly into the machinator so they can get back out for more.  the machinator is far from being put out to pasture. 

we worked on the deck of that thing from about 11:30am until 7pm.  a nice long coffee break, sitting in the shop, listening to classic rock.  more than a feeling.  dead or alive.  rock and roll fantasy.  paranoid.  every rose has its thorn.  few other beauties.  we drank black coffe out of styrofoam cups.  the sun was up without a cloud in the sky.  for the entire 7 hours it did not bend or arc.  it just traveled parallel to the ground.  it moved significantly though.  but if felt like noon the entire time.  the light was exactly the same all day.  it never really changed.  after about 9 or so it started to descend very gradually toward the horizon.  it set at about 11:45pm or so.  won't be dark until about 1am  but not even a true dark.  like way after dusk.  like when you're playing outside when you're a kid and you can still kind of see, and the lightning bugs are out.