Matt Marinkovich’s weekly At Sea Diary entry is a popular feature of the National Fisherman Web site, and now you can post your own reflections on Matt’s experiences fishing in the Pacific Northwest and North Pacific.
Written by Adrianne Madden
January 29, 2008
April 13-14, 2006 — Thursday, April 13, found us laying in Seward waiting for the weather to improve. Had the forecast not been calling for 30 to 50 knots outside, we would have been running out to the blackcod grounds, but instead we were tied to the dock. We baited the remainder of the gear, which provided a fair bit of toil, but we were all feeling quite idle. We went out to dinner at Ray's, a pretty nice spot, and Roald treated us to a fancy meal, restaurant style.
When I got back to the boat there was an eagle perched in the rigging of the boat, but he flew away when I neared the Discovery. When I jumped quickly over the rail and onto the back deck, I startled a raven, who nearly flew into me in his hastened exodus from under the shelter deck. I figured he was eating the bait off of the hook of our baited longline gear, but my findings were much worse, especially for me, the cook. The bastard had ripped open BOTH packages of corned beef I planned on cooking up for dinner and chewed a big corner out of each brisket.
I cursed and swore up and down at those damned birds. I considered washing them off and serving them anyway, but for some reason George had been talking about bird flu all season long, so I knew I shouldn't dare cook it. I threw it overboard, and although the birds would eat no more, I'm sure the crab enjoyed it very much, which was good because shellfish aren't susceptible to bird flu.
The next morning, Friday, April 14, I walked from where our boat was moored in the boat harbor up to Resurrection Bay Seafoods to check my e-mail and the written weather report, because I wasn't so sure those guys were listening to the right thing, and I like to see things in writing before I believe it.
While I was there, my phone rang. I figured Roald wanted to know where his breakfast was, but instead it was George informing me that the boat had already left the boat harbor before they realized I was not aboard, and they wanted to go fishing because the weather observation was 12 knots at Middleton Island. I told him I checked the forecast and it was all 30 to 35 knots, but I'll come right back to the boat anyway.
So I stopped what I was doing and literally ran, in my heavy coat and doubled-up sweat pants, all the way back to the boat. And do you know what? When I got there George, the prick, informs me he was just kidding! Ha ha ha, boy, that was really funny.
I guess there isn't anything better to do while waiting for weather, but if it didn't improve soon, our harmonic existence on the Discovery would hit a sour note.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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