The End of an Era

 I was going to do a blog post about my last days of fishing on the Bonnie J. I've given the boat to a worthy person I believe and I wanted to reflect a little bit on my time with her, but yesterday my son Brian called with the news that my friend and long time Hoonah resident Fagan Skaflestad had passed away. It came as quite  a shock to me for some reason. I don't know why. He was in his early eighties I believe, but he always seemed so robust, so full of life. He was one of those guys that just seemed like would live forever.

I can't even recall when we first met, I feel like I've known him most of my life. His family has been around Hoonah for decades. His dad, Alf, had a logging business and he and the boys logged up and down Port Frederick for years. They had a camp up in Salt Lake Bay if I recall correctly, and Fagan used to tell me about running around in a skiff up in the Narrows, fishing for King Salmon. He had the uncanny ability of finding fish when few others could.

For years he fished out of a twenty one foot glas-ply boat, hand cranking. He seemed to always know where to go and when to go there in order to be successful. At times he would come back with tales of incredible catches, which I sometimes met with skepticism until he pulled out the fish tickets and showed me.

He often told me where he fished, but not until he had already been there and  caught most of the fish in the area. I recall once fishing in the bay down near Westport. Fagan had gone to Eagle Point and had bombed out.  He came into the bay and asked how I was doing. I had a few kings and about twenty five cohos, which I was pretty happy with. Fagan didn't stick around, but instead said he was going to look around up near the Waterfall, up the bay. He said he'd call me on the CB radio if he had any luck. I stayed and fished where I was. After about three hours with no report from Fagan, I figured he'd found the fish. Not wanting to alert the other boats, I slowly trolled my way up the bay. By the time I got to where Fagan was, he had already caught eighteen kings. He claimed he tried to call me, but couldn't get through. Perhaps he did try, I don't know. In any event, he ended the three day opening with forty eight kings to my eighteen.

Ten or twelve years ago, maybe longer, he parked the Glas-ply on the beach and bought a much bigger fiberglass pleasure craft with six or eight bunks and big windows. He re-named it the Janice K and added some trolling poles and some rigging as well as power troll gurdies and an aluminum troll pit in the stern. It didn't have any fish hold, so he purchased a bunch of half totes that he loaded on the upper deck for keeping his fish. I have vivid memories of Fagan being in the  troll pit pulling cohos at Homeshore. He was a hard nose fisherman, often being the last one in to the anchorage if there as a bite late in the day. He knew all the best anchorages for the various winds

In the last couple years I'd noticed that he was slowing down. He wasn't as willing to go out on the ocean for more than a few days during the opening days of the king season, and often waited for a favorable report before venturing off somewhere. He'd mentioned problems with the engine overheating, and the last king opener he said his auto pilot had been giving him problems, so he came in early.

I spoke to a friend in Hoonah who keeps his boat on the same float as Fagan. He mentioned that Fagan had come in around eight o'clock Friday evening after fishing the day somewhere, I assume Homeshore or Spasski Reef. He'd mentioned that he wasn't feeling good. Apparently some time later he went to the clinic where he passed away. I'm not sure of the cause of death.

Ol' Fagan. He was funny and rowdy and outspoken. He was a Hoonah icon and his passing marks the end of an era. I'm sure going to miss him. 

Rest in peace my friend.