Wilderness Blues- Ramblings from the Great Land

    I was going to write this post when I first got back from Hoonah, but life, and death, got in the way, and I've delayed doing it until now. I couldn't very well put off writing about the death of my good friend and fishing companion Fagan, so it took priority.  Then I had multiple projects that needed tackled around the house, so either I didn't have the time or the energy to do another post until now. So, here it goes. Last year I had made up my mind to sell the Bonnie J. My body was having a harder time keeping up with the demands of  wooden boat ownership, and though I was reluctant to sell on the one hand, I knew it was time. I put a price tag of $10,000 on it and hoped for the best. There were two interested buyers at the time. Both of them wouldn't have the money until the end of the fishing season or tourist season, as one of the prospective buyers worked at the cannery. I knew the one fellow, and while I wasn't sure that he would come through, he and his

  The fishing season is winding down, as is normal for this time of year, and with the end of the season comes the foul weather that fall brings. For the past few days we've experienced some thirty knot winds in Icy Strait, with higher gusts. A lot of the boats that were fishing the outside coast have come in to fish Homeshore, but with almost no protection from the winds, everyone was forced to seek shelter in town. There are boats tied up to the floats from Petersburg and Wrangell, Juneau and Angoon and Sitka and of course Hoonah and I don't know where all else. Boats with names like the Trisha Marie, Loretta Ann, Corvus, and Sea Fire. They're all shapes and sizes, and most of the ones that came in from the weather are trollers, like myself. It's interesting to see the different shapes, especially on the old wooden ones. They're all unique. I happened to be listening to some music the other night on U tube and came across a song titled Away From the

   Anyone who has ever had a boat can understand the title of this post. I've spent the last week with the boat in dry dock, sanding, patching, painting and caulking it, plus replacing zincs. Aside from the usual yearly items like those mentioned above, I had to order spruce 1x6's to replace some of the bin boards down in the hold that had started to rot. They hold the ice into separate bins and you can't afford to be out on the water in a storm and have the load shift because some bin boards broke. That's not all that needed done though, oh no,no, no. That was just the least expensive project. Last year my engine started over heating whenever I pushed it above trolling speed. I tried all the simpler things to do, hoping I wouldn't have to replace the water pump, but all to no avail, so I had to replace my thirty some year old water pump, for about $650.00, plus labor. I noticed last year that a guard near the stern of the boat had developed a

  2015 will be remembered by me as a year of trial and tribulation, a year when my patience has been stretched to the breaking point and seemingly beyond. We're half way through the month of June, and I'm still waiting for the remainder of the planks to be installed. A project that began at the end of March and was supposed to be finished over a month ago and has no finish date in sight. I'm pleased that we finally have some planks put back on the boat. It's progress that can be measured; however, the dog salmon are running and I'm not on the water taking advantage of them. The weather for the past six weeks has been hot dry and sunny, with an almost daily dose of wind. While it is nice to wake to sunny days, the unseasonably warm weather has melted almost all the snow on the surrounding mountains, which is a primary source of water for the streams that the salmon rely on to go up and spawn. Another ill effect of all this hot weather is that t

   Twenty five years ago, when I first laid eyes on the Bonnie J, I really wasn't impressed. After all, it was a wooden boat,and I knew what that was going to entail. However, when I got closer and looked at the For Sale sign, and the amount that the seller wanted for her, I started to give it some consideration. At the time I still had seven kids at home, and I wasn't exactly raking in the big bucks working at L. Kane Store. I don't know what my reasoning was for buying it; I guess I realized that I'd be hard pressed to find another boat with a basically new engine for that price,and since I wasn't mechanically inclined, a new diesel was a real selling point. I would have liked to have purchased a good used fiberglass boat, but they were going for about twice what we paid for the house, so that wasn't practical either. Sooooo... I bought the Bonnie J and actually, I've been paying for it ever since. I've had her for almost 25 ye

   From time to time I get a little bit of guff, usually from family members, who feel like I don't post here often enough. The fact that I actually have to do something that will bring in a little moola doesn't seem to appease them any; apparently they feel like my primary job is to entertain them. Now, in all fairness, I have to admit, I didn't receive an e-mail or phone call reprimanding me, but had I gone another day or so without posting, I no doubt would have gotten some form of complaint, so, being the saint that I am, I'm going to sacrifice some of MY time to put out this post. Hopefully they'll feel entertained.    As you can plainly see, I've posted  a couple of pictures of this year's garden. I would dearly love to take full credit for it's beauty, but I have to admit, outside of pulling a few dandelions and picking up some rocks which were tossed, willy nilly into the yard, I haven't done too much gardening. Largel

I hope I don't try the reader's patience by showing a few more photos of the boat. I told my son Ben I would update him on the status of the Bonnie J when he called today. As you can see, the original plan to replace the bow stem and a few planks, has grown into a monumental project that would make Noah nod in appreciation. While I was aware that some serious work needed to be done, I had no idea the damage was as extensive as it is. John told me yesterday that we had to stop taking planks off- there was just not enough time or materials to do all that needs done. I have some serious work that needs done on several planks that are amidships, but it just can't be dealt with at this time, so I'll have to try and dry out the planks and resort to the old standby, Bondo, a body filler that they use in cars after they've been in a wreck or start rusting out. You can see the contrast in the color of the wood planks versus the bow stem. The planks are yellow cedar and the s

Bulwarks, bowstem and some planks removed  Planks removed to access the bow stem  John Kveum- the shipwright and my good friend  Still intact  It's been almost twenty two years that I've owned the Bonnie J. I first saw her tied up to the transient float in Hoonah in the fall of 1989. She wasn't much to look at, but she was for sale and the price was right- $16,000. I really didn't want  a wooden boat. I know the amount of work that they entail, but she only had 1600 hours on a new Isuzu deisel engine and I was in the market for a bigger boat, so I purchased  her. Since then I've done so much work on her I can't help but wonder if I couldn't have bought a fiberglass boat by now- but I've never failed to come home from a fishing trip and I've been in some fairly ugly water from time to time so I guess I can't complain too loud. Last year when I hauled her out for maintanence I noticed that some of the planks wouldn't pull

It's a beautiful day here in sunny Hoonah Alaska. The only problem is that it's in the single digits and not supposed to go much higher. I don't know how the sun can be out and have so little heat to offer. I've known a few folks like that- beautiful people with no warmth to their character. Perhaps it's just as well- if they were good looking and kind too they might be intolerable. Anyway, it's too cold to wander around outside today so I thought I would tap into the archives of my  picture files. The top two pictures show the Mickey V on anchor in Neka Bay this past year. Neka Bay is named after a local Tlingit man who used to shoot a small cannon every time the fleet came back in. I saw a picture of him in a book. He's a very distinguished looking fellow and the cannon looked like it could do some damage if he loaded it with a pound or two of shot. The Mickey V (5) is owned by a friend of mine, Marc Miller. I don't know what happened to Mickey's

My apologies to any readers of this fine blog. I know that I've been remiss in posting in a timely fashion. As I mentioned before in a previous post, the fishing season is upon us and I only have so much time and energy to accomplish all that needs done. It's pretty much the same with anyone in Southeast Alaska. Boat owners are busy prepping for the season, gardeners are weeding and planting, home owners are working on all the projects that require a little warmer temperatures outside. There is always a flurry of activity in the spring here- more so than any other place I've ever lived. The season is short, so as the saying goes, you make hay when the sun shines.  As you can see from the pictures, I hauled out the Bonnie J and got her all spiffed up. Like anyone, I wanted to present her in her best light. No one that I know would keep a picture in his wallet  of his wife or girlfriend when she first woke up in the morning with her hair all askance and holes in her PJ's

I'm not sure what mountains these are. They may not even have a name, I don't think most of the mountains around here do. They sure are pretty though. They aren't too far from False Bay. Whenever I see them I know we don't have too much further to go. You can see the blue sky in this photo. Totally unlike the a normal September as I mentioned in my last post. Today is more typical- it's blowing about twenty five with rain coming down in sheets. Thank God things are returning to normal. If we kept having all that good weather who knows how many people we'd have living here. On our way out to False Bay a few weeks ago, shortly after we left the pavement, we passed the remains of two more fine old wooden boats. The green one is the Judy Ann. It belonged to Terry Shepard, a little gnome of a man who calls himself the Hobbit. He looks the part. Just over five feet tall with a full grey beard and a walking stick, he called the Judy Ann home for years. When I first me