Slime.

The Slime Line

July 15-20 Homer, Alaska 

Slightly lonely we made our way to Homer, Alaska famous for the Homer Spit which is a strip of land that jets out into the ocean. The spit is much larger than it looks from the hills above. It’s packed full of shops, tour businesses and boats.  Small boats, yachts, fishing boats, oil tankers. Boats. Lots of boats. 

We found a spot at Whiskey Gulch, an oceanside free “campground” about 40 minutes outside of Homer and the Spit.  It is what I imagine The Salten Sea would look like, full of people that made this place their home one piece of trash at a time. 

The weather was dreary so we walked the boardwalk in search of something to do. We found a sign on a post saying:

                                               

This was intriguing. We had talked about finding some work and the next day WAS Sunday 7/16. Money was getting tight, we had just bought a canoe, why not? We walked down to where Auction Block was located to inquire within. The girl we spoke to practically hugged us when we asked about working. She gave us a tour and introduced us to one of the processing managers, Erica. Erica asked us if we wanted to start working right then and there. We politely told her we would be back in the morning, unsure if we wanted to follow through. Let’s face it, the last 3 months of not working have been amazing.

When we left Auction Block, I still wasn’t sure exactly what this company did. I mean, obviously they processed fish, but what does that even mean? Oh, we were soon to find out.  

We set an alarm for the first time on our trip! Woke up at 6am, walked the dog, made breakfast, packed a lunch and drove the 40 minutes to The Spit. We got there at 7:15am to pick out a set of Grundens or Grundies as we and, I think, “they” call them. Grundies are rain gear bibs and jackets that most of these people wear while doing this job. Boy did these stink. Not like fish. Not like body odor. It was a smell unlike any smell ever smelled before and a smell we are unlikely to ever forget.  Take the contents of the entire ocean, put them in a hot greenhouse for 3 days, and spread sewage on them. Bam. Used Grundies.  The problem springs from them not being properly washed by the previous wearer(s). After work. On the SLIME LINE. SLIME. LINE.

They sent us over to the loading dock in our Grundies, about 10 of us. We had told the musical folks, Riley and Scotlynd, from Seward about the job since we knew they were in Homer as well.  It was nice to see familiar faces. It was a bit chaotic at first, 5 of us having no idea what we were doing. We bumbled around, trying to do as we were told. Erica starts pointing at people and telling them where to go. Ryan is told he is going to be a “pitcher” (well the joke is on them if this job requires Ryan to throw anything) and needed to climb down a very sketchy ladder onto the boat being unloaded. This is the last I see Ryan for 3 hours. 

Knee-deep in Halibut

Sorting and icing

Apparently Ryan was almost knee deep in halibut and halibut slime in the bottom of this boat. He and 3 other dudes “pitched” the fish into a brailer (a netted bag). He also informed me that there wasn’t a lot of throwing that took place, more like bear hugging and dropping. The brailer was then raised up by a crane and dumped onto a large stainless steel table where the rest of us waited. A “table dancer” would push the fish one by one down a ramp to another table where 1-2 people would then reach in the fish’s mouth and pull out the ice that has been stuffed in it to keep it fresh. The fish would then be passed to someone else who would double check that the mouth is empty, wipe the outside of the fish off and then slid the fish onto the scale for weighing. Someone else would weigh the fish and yell out 1, 2, 3, 4 or 5 depending on the weight. Then fish would then be passed to someone else who would stuff ice back into the fish and push it into the correct box. This is where I came in. I had to shovel “layer” ice on each fish that was tossed into the boxes and when a box was full I had to “top ice” it so no fish parts where showing. The boxes were then covered and fork lifted into a freezer. This process went on for a good 3+ hours until all of the 15,000 pounds of fish were taken care of. It’s no wonder why fish is so expensive, and that’s not the end of it!

Ryan spent the rest of the day putting hundreds of cardboard boxes together, which is pretty self explanatory, while I packaged Salmon. In the vacuum room we luckily did not have to wear the grundies anymore. We had on opaque aprons and sleeves, clear food grade gloves and hairnets. I attempted to braid my hair, as this way I wouldn’t need a hair net, but I couldn’t put any of my hair apart since I don’t remember when I brushed my hair last. Two dudes had already filleted the fish, I’m fairly certain that is their entire job, just filleting fish. The totes came to us where 2 guys would make the fish look “pretty” by cutting off jagged edges and/or cut them into steaks if the whole fillet wasn’t perfect. Then 3 of us put each piece into its own plastic bag which is easier said than done. Fish is wet and the bags need to stay dry in order for the vacuum sealer to work properly. This means we put a 4” piece of PVC pipe into the opening of the bag first and then slid the fish into the bag. If the bag got wet, you had to wipe it off. The bag then went to a girl who was using the vacuum sealer to close the bag and lay the fish, without touching another piece of fish, on a tray that would go on a rack and then into a freezer. At 4:30 we were given a break and was told that we would be wrapping things up shortly. It was 7:15pm when we actually got out. As brutal as it was, we got paid time and a half after 8 hours. I guess it could have been worse?

We went back the next day for more punishment and more money. We unloaded another halibut boat, this one had 32,000 pounds.  The largest fish that came off the boat was 144lbs, although Ryan will tell you it was 175lbs for sure. We were pros at this point, it went relatively quickly.

I, Ryan, pitched with Riley until Riley asked to be rotated out for another fish person, whose name escapes me.  32,000 pounds of halibut, pulled from the slimy depths of the boat’s storage area and hoisted out 50 or so fish at a time by two people. Best workout routine of my life.  At one point during the 32,000 pound day, my boot became stuck in Halibut, and without noticing (as I may have had a 100lb halibut over my shoulder) my foot slid out of the boot and set firmly on the dry ground…. just kidding… socked feet… ankle deep… in halibut slime.  As insane as it may sound, I liked the job.

Then the hundreds of cardboard boxes came into play. Someone would load one of the large halibut totes onto a machine that would pick up a tote and dump out its contents onto a table. Another person took each fish and lined it up with a machine that would chop the fish’s head off. They passed the fish to someone who would brush out their mouths of yuckiness and slide the fish into a bin. A girl was taking each cardboard box and putting in a large plastic bag and then 10 pounds of ice exactly into each bag. It was then Ryan’s job to take each box and put fish into the box. This was no easy task since each box needed to contain 95-105 pounds of fish. Finding the right combination was daunting as times where others he would hit he mark right on the first time. Ryan pushed the now full box over to me where I had to stuff ice into each mouth of each fish that was in the box. It was tricky to find the mouth of each fish and have access to the mouth. When I was through, I pushed the box to Scotlynd, who dumped more ice onto the fish, closed the plastic bag and put the cover on the box which was labeled with the box number and the weight of the fish which Ryan called out each time. The box went to a machine that closed the box with straps and then it was stacked onto a wooden pallet where someone driving a fork lift would take it away and put on a truck that was waiting for us to finish. It was another 7:15 evening. It took 10 people to do this job in 6 (+/-) hours. Again I say, no wonder why fish is so expensive!

We took the next day off to recover and actually explore Homer. It rained all day. We should have just worked.

Halibut Taco

sunset from our beachside campsite

Homer Brewing Co.
Decent beer.
Not-so-decent service.

Sculpin every cast from our Homer campsite.
Be careful with these guys: their dorsal fins have venomous spines.

Surfcasting jackpot!

We had one more day of work in us before moving on to our next destination. The boats to unload weren’t going to be in until later so we processed salmon in the mean time, which we hadn’t done yet. Again, a large machine dumped the totes onto the table. Ryan passed and stacked each fish head first for the next guy to handle. The next guy put the fish onto a conveyer belt which fed the fish into a machine that chopped their heads off. After being beheaded, the fish fell into a canal. My job was to make sure the fish fell into the canal just right. Each fish splashed me as it hit the bottom of the canal. I like to imagine that it was water that continuously splashed into my eyes and mouth. The canal lead the fish up a ramp where a hook went into them, slit their bellies open and scooped out their guts. At the end of the ramp multiple people waited to make sure all the insides where on the outside and cleaned out and someone packaged them into boxes to be filleted. Did I mention where the heads and guts went? They fell into laundry baskets, most of the time anyway. It was the job of this one kid, who “really digs” his new job, to make sure he emptied the laundry baskets into the “grinder” which would grind the guts into something that visually resembles Marinara (in Emily’s eyes) or pureed berries (in Ryan’s eyes)… I wonder what it tastes like.  The kid hadn’t buttoned his jacket, I can’t understand why. Guts dripped down the frontside of him, it was gross. But maybe not as gross as the hundreds of hearts that laid at my feet and the googly eyes rolling around on the ground.   These pureed fish remains would make their way into Homer Bay and chum up some nice fishing for shore fishermen.

July 21-26 Valdez, Alaska

Worthington Glacier, North of Valdez

Worthington Glacier

Driving into Valdez was like a dream. Glacier. Cascade. Glacier. Cascade. Cascade. Wildlife. Cascade. Sea lion. Sea lion. Mama and baby bears. Seal. I suppose it was a good thing we didn’t even see the sun while we were there because I’m fairly certain we wouldn’t have left. 

We camped at Valdez Glacier Lake which we also canoed on. The water must have been just over 32 degrees. Lifejackets were worn as a “just in case”. I’m fairly certain that if we tipped over, our limbs would be immediately numb and we would have been unable to swim. It also may have been due to the man we spoke to before canoeing. He informed us there was an ice dam just over yonder and could at any point break away. This means a wall of freezing cold water would rush in with brutal force. “If you hear what sounds like a train coming, ya better paddle like hell!” he exclaimed.

It was slightly eerie out on the cold and foggy lake. It was also one of the coolest things we’ve done on our trip, pun intended. More and more ice has become dislodged from the glacier and just floats in the lake. The icebergs are incredibly blue and apparently blue because they can absorb all the ROYGBIV colors except for the B. Up close, there were constant drips of water coming off each ice berg and the glacier itself. 

Valdez Glacier Lake

Iceberg, straight ahead!

Valdez Glacier Campsite

Valdez Glacier Lake

Salmon Spawning in Valdez

After doing some research on Valdez, we came across some reviews of Shoup Bay. It sounded like a must do. A glacier, a rookery (Google it - we had no clue) and beautiful mountains all in one. How could we pass that up? Well we were duped by Shoup. 

Shoup Bay Trail, early in the day

no idea what we were in for

The 20 mile out and back trek was listed as difficult. We assumed due to length as well as the lack of trail maintenance we were aware of. In reality, it felt like we were in our own  version of Hunger Games. I could literally imagine someone watching us saying things like “make the plants taller so they can’t see in front of them”, “I need longer thorns on those bushes”, “lets put planks down to give them a false sense of security but make them ridiculously slippery”, “make that steeper”, “more bear shit”, “hide that deadly drop off with lots of shrubbery so they won’t see it”, “break out the Harry Potter roots, the ones that grab you and pull you down”.

"trail"

"trail"

Shoup bay? Yeah… take a boat. Pay the money. Rent a cabin out there (there are 3 available).  It WAS beautiful, don’t get us wrong. But man… we’re experienced in hiking and backpacking… I’d even say that we’ve done some difficult trails in our days, but this was beyond.  We arrived near dark, in clouds of mosquitoes, and we damn near poached one of those Dept. of Natural Resource Cabins - they’re $70/night but left unlocked.  In the end, we did the right thing, and found a wildly uncomfortable pile of river stones to pitch our tent on.  On a plus side, there was no shortage of firewood, so we were able to dry our footwear and smoke the giant mosquitoes away.  While in the cabin, we read some journal entries of hikers that had taken 12 hours on the trail to arrive there, they also said they would take a boat next time.  Luckily, we were able to complete the trek in about 5.5.  It’s tough to sleep, when you cannot stop thinking about the upcoming hike back to comfort.  

descent into Shoup Bay

We're not in great moods here.

Eighty seven. 87! Thats the number of bear shit we came across on the trail while hiking out. It was our best attempt to entertain ourselves. 

Coop was clearly tuckered.
He's sleeping in this photo.

July 27 CHICKEN, Alaska

Not too much to say about Chicken, AK except it’s worth passing through. The winter population here is 7.  “Downtown” consists of a mercantile, a bar, and a cafe. It also has an airport (most towns in AK have one) and two RV parks that include a gift shop, cafe and restaurant. All the t-shirts, bumper stickers, postcards, etc has sayings on them like…..”I got laid in Chicken”, “Where the hell is Chicken, AK?”, “I heart potholes”, “Ever seen a chicken shit?” (this was of a picture of a chicken on a toilet), and more other quirky and humorous sayings. 

Ah hell, let's just call it Chicken!

stay classy, Chicken

Chicken Tavern

we smart

cluck

The views along the road from Chicken through Yukon Territory were absolutely beautiful.  It was just so rogue out there. Mountains as far as the eye could see, and serene silence.

Stay tuned.

And a photo montage for your enjoyment: