Sunday continued...

I show off an impressive fish. As I said, they begin a silvery green, then begin to get striped, and finally become either more and more red or yellow. Some are very calico looking.  The meat of the jaws seem to waste away, leaving hooked jaws, jagged teeth, and humped backs. In fact, some of the fish we caught were beginning to rot. Scales were falling off, flesh was getting mushy, and even the center of the eyes were vacant - just gone.

Below, a look at the mouth, the jaws, and the teeth. The big one Maria caught on the video (two posts ago) flopped and those teeth raked my palm a bit. It more surprised me than anything, but it gave him the chance to flop down the bank and plunge himself off the cliff back into the pool below before we could photograph him. I'm guessing the fish was 15-18 pounds!

Maria looks like the little Indian princess with her eagle feather.  She's versatile, because I also know she's the zumba queen.  I think she enjoyed the cabin, the creek, being in the outdoors, and even snagging and hauling the fish up the cliff.

Maria inside the old cabin.  Like I said, it's pretty basic. Old musty beds. Chairs with dusty cushions that are falling apart. A propane stove. A wood stove. Some very basic old tools, cookware, and dishes. I noticed some canned food, and a little hooch to warm the belly and gladden the spirit :-) On the shelf was a logbook with people from all over the place who had stumbled across the cabin while they were exploring. All the owners ask is that you respect their property and leave it the way it was when you came. People really seem to be doing just that.

While I was cleaning fish, Maria was inside tidying up, sweeping the floor, and signing the logbook.

Sorry this is horizontal - I did change it but it didn't stay that way - so turn your computer 90 degrees, ok?  This is the view off the cabin deck, looking up the place where the creek forks and gets more steep and shallow. To the right is the steep cliff that's about 20 feet straight above the pool, which is about 6 feet deep and the deepest spot in the creek. Right now, this place is calling me back, so I'm going to leave Maria to her work (I'm a distraction sometimes, it seems), do some bear hunting, and maybe I'll hole up in the cabin for a few hours while it's dark. I'll report back on my experiences in a day or two.

Sunday's awesome food, company, and adventure!

Alaskan crab boiling on the stove - this is the first time I have ever eaten crab!

Below, it's ready, and we are ready to have at it...

From left: Maria, Katie (Christian's gf), Christian (the number two son), Joseph (the number four son), and me the photographer..

Maria made a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies - the first I have had since I left MN. I've been spoiled in many ways when it comes to food, but I miss dunking cookies in milk. Miss ya MA!

Christian and Katie. I think Christian is 25 years old. He's been out on the sea gill-netting red salmon for the past couple of months. He and Joey came home to visit mom for a week, before they head back to Anchorage where they live. While they were here, we got a chance to fish, hike, eat, hang out, watch movies, and generally get to know one another - which was nice.

After the boys left, Maria and I took the boat across the bay to Humpy Creek. We moored the boat out on the tidal flat in ten feet of water, and took the canoe to shore.  With everything we needed in my backpack, we set out for a long evening sneaking up the creek, enjoying the outdoors like we like to do, watching the splashing, spawning, dying salmon, and always on the lookout for Mr. Bear.

Below, Maria is hamming it up- so excited because she found an eagle feather - which she loves to collect. Look closely in the creek behind her, and you'll see salmon.

Here's a closer look at them...

And nearby, a fresh bear print in the mud on the shorline - a sure sign that they are nearby...

I will continue this post soon. Gotta get some work done!

Snagging giant salmon off a cliff - you gotta see this!

http://youtu.be/qOFL_uRw9kE

This is a new magical spot we found up humpy creek. There's a little cabin there, and the chum salmon are up there doing their spawning ritual. They leave salt water and come into the fresh water to spawn. Along the way, they encounter fishermen snagging (fishermen who sometimes snag themselves - I heard a guy yelling the other day, and went to investigate, and he had a treble hook THROUGH his nose), bears eating, eagles swooping - all kinds of peril.  In some places, the water is so shallow and the fish are so thick that you can wade out and kill them with rocks. When they come in, they are silvery/green - but as they spawn, they turn colors, deteriorate, and eventually die. Before they die, they start eating their own smolt, and the smolt of other salmon - so they are better off just being dead after they have spawned. Make sense?  Also, it's good to try and get some fish that haven't changed colors too much yet. The fresher the better. Will try and smoke these as well.  Anyway, back to the magical place.  There's a little old cabin farther up the bear trail - beyond where most of the people hike to. The door is unlocked, and the cabin is owned by an old couple; I don't know where they live. Inside, there's a log book - where maybe a few visitors sign in every year. Some are hikers; some are bear hunters; some are fishing salmon or trout.  With permission, you can stay overnight, otherwise, you can just hang out and enjoy the place. It's basic - with a wood stove, a propane stove for cooking, some canned food, a bottle of hooch, some miscellaneous tools and fishing gear, maps, books, old magazines, etc.  There's two beds in there, and though old and musty, it's pretty cozy. The cabin lies in a gorge where there's a deep pool where good numbers of salmon collect. Beyond that, it looks like hardly anyone goes farther upstream, except me.  Up there, there's bear crap everywhere, and trails and matted down grass. The creek forks, and it's shallow and rocky - so catching the fish is easy. I'm going to go up there tonight and take up a stand along a good bear trail and just wait it out.  Anyway, back to the cabin, there's a few benches, a small fire pit, and then a steep vertical wall that sits above the pool. Last time I was here, I noticed a ball of twine there, so this time I figured "no need to pack a fishing pole all the way up there - I'll just bring some treble hooks, tie onto the ball of twine, we'll throw it out, snag them, and drag them up". Well, it worked awesome as you will see on the video. You can literally snag a 8-15 pound salmon every throw. On the video - it's pandemonium as Maria snags one that's 15 pounds or more. I'm holding the camera phone in one hand, and trying to help her haul the big fish up with the other. We got the fish up and were hoping to get some good photos of the beast, but then it flipped off the hook, raked it's sharp teeth and hooked jaw across my palm, and then flopped and tumbled off the side of the cliff and back into the creek. Oh well. We did catch a dozen or so fish, cleaned them up, and packed out the heavy load of fillets for smoking.

Car-door-opening bear?

Last week in the Homer newspaper, there was a story about a bear up on our hillside that has learned to open car doors. Well, I think I encountered that little potlicker last night.  I awoke at 3:03 am to some serious dog barking.  I knew there must be some animal outside, so I went out there to investigate.  I came face to face with a bear trying to get into my truck.  He had the right front passenger door opened, the lights were on, and I'm sure he was thinking about trying to climb inside to see what he could find. I'll admit, my truck is a pit, and he would have found something to eat - that's for sure.  I had my rifle in my hands, and I was standing there in my undies, sizing up this bear that was mere yards away.  Then he looked over at me, and because I think bears can't see too well, he started walking closer to investigate.  He was so close, I could hear him breathing loud and clear!  I judged him to be only 150 pounds - so I put down my rifle and threw a rock at him instead.  He took off up the hill helter skelter, and that was that.  If Mr. bear continues this kind of behavior, I will have to dispatch him and that's all there is to it. I hate to go home without filling my bear tag; that would be just pathetic.  Maria Santa Lucia (isn't that just so fun to say?) and I are headed across the bay to hunt black bear and snag salmon in humpy creek as soon as we finish a huge feast of king crab legs. This will be my first time eating it... hmmmm.....

They think I'm totally weird, but when I ask them if they've ever eaten walleye, they say "what's that"? At least I know what King Crab is - so I guess I told them...

Wilburt the otter

The other night, coming home from bear hunting at humpy creek, I ran into the most friendly otter.  As many of you know, the otter is my most favorite animal, and when I first got here, I was really fascinated with them.  Sea otters are the most prevalent here, though I have seen a few river otters too in certain places. Anyway, I tried and tried to get some good photos of otters.  Eventually, I learned that if you follow or chase them, they will just elude you one way or another.  Then I learned that if you lay back and watch the path they are on, then get in their path, they will sometimes swim by you fairly close.  As the summer wore on, I quit trying to photograph them, and just enjoyed them as I drove by - and basically just let them be.

The sun was setting this evening, and reflecting beautifully off of the calm water.  Something made me try again, and I was pleasantly surprised to find the most cooperative sea otter of all time.  He was diving down to about ten feet, picking up some clams - or whatever he was eating, lying them on his chest, cracking them open and eating them.  He was so into his eating that he was oblivious to what we were doing. It seemed like that anyway...

Wilburt would take a few bites, then roll over, scratch and clean himself, then take a few more bites.  Otters are always twisting and turning - gracefully gliding through the water, always paddling their feet and tail, always on the move...

He was literally right over the side of my boat. I took these photos with my camera phone.

I like the otter obviously - I took dozens of shots of him, but I also like the way the water looks. I was in front of a glacial spit - where the clear water from the glaciers and the mountain snow melt rushes down and mixes with the shallow tidal flats and silt that is there.  It's kind of a creamy, blue/green mix of saltwater - with reflections of clouds and the last sunlight of the day mixing with the ripples that play off the otters movements.

I took movies of Wilburt - I'll have to load them to YouTube and post a link here so you can see and hear for yourself.  He was so close, you could hear him crunching on his food.

He seemed so happy with his little flippers going - I could almost see him smiling as he made contented little grunts - while chomping away on his clam.

By this time, I had taken three video sequences, and 50-75 photos with my waterproof point and shoot camera, and my camera phone.

I had been following Wilburt around in the boat for about 45 minutes.  He would dive for another clam, and then I would wait for him to resurface - then drive over to where he was swimming and parallel him while taking pictures - kicking my boat in and out of gear to keep the right pace.  But eventually, Wilburt got tired of me following him.  He stayed down longer. He came up farther away. He changed directions.  And, my boat partner, who was hungry and not as into otters as I, had had enough - so I said goodbye to my favorite otter and we headed across the bay to the harbor.

A tribute to JoHanna - Maria's best friend

JoHanna and Maria were best of friends for years, but two years ago, Jo died after battling cancer for many years.  The story goes that she wanted to have her family and friends spread her ashes at the top of China Poot - a steep mountain across Kachemak Bay - so that whenever her family and friends looked across the bay, they would think of her.  At the end of her life, she and her husband Steve and children moved to Oregon so that she could get better care - so it has taken one or two years to pull all of this together.

Below, Jo's daughter Charity (right) and her friend Sara prepare to leave out of Homer Harbor around 6 am to goat across the bay in order to get to the trail head.  In all, I think 14 of us made the trek.

This is a look at China Poot, about three miles up the trail.  Steve, Charity and Sara were on a mission (we needed to get back to the boat at high tide - so it was a 12 mile hike for them round trip), and we were holding them back - so we hung out here while they took off at a good clip.  

Another shot at China Poot. It's really steep near the top, and rugged rocks. Steve says from up there, you have a 360 degree view of the entire surroundings, including all the glaciers that are up top between all the mountain. By the way, look closely and you will see a hen spruce grouse in the tree mid to lower left of the photo.

Maria and I at China Poot Lake, about three miles up the trail.

Maria and I chose a tree along the trail to make a little shrine for Jo.  We carved some words in the tree, and picked lots of fireweed to put there.

Maria collects heart shaped rocks, and we cut a deep hole in a piece of fungus to implant a heart shaped rock that Maria had brought along just for this.

The black flies were big, and they were hungry - just nuts. You can see why it's said that animals were driven off the side of mountains by these pesky critters. Maria and I had an endurance fest to spend all day on the mountain - as did everybody else.  We were continually putting on deet insect repellant so that they wouldn't bite, but that didn't stop hundreds of them from buzzing us.

It was about this time that we began to notice lots of blueberries. Many of the blueberry plants didn't have berries but only buds, but amazingly, some of the plants were full and ripe.  Blueberry plants are different up here than MN.  There are two or three types. Low bush, and high bush. Most of the berries we picked were between the knees and the shoulders - so it was nice not to have to stoop so much as we do in MN.  I'd say they were small to medium sized, but it was still the best berry picking opportunity that I've ever seen even though it is early.

Maria took a few shots of me while I was picking by the lake.

We picked the best patches on the way out.  I had my rifle along, and we were being quiet, hoping to see a bear. Their sign was apparent along the trail. They were enjoying the berries too, as was evident in their scat. Dang - I shoulda taken a picture for you... :-) 

Maria and I saw this spruce hen on the trail, and got a few photos before it flew into a nearby tree.

Maria picks some high-bush blueberries.

Just before this, we met a couple from Minnesota who were hiking out from a different trail. They said that they had met a big black bear on the trail just before they saw us - so we were close, but still no bear.  I've got a good gallon of blueberries in the crook of my arm, and Maria has another bag just like it.

At home, I've cleaned up the blueberries while Maria checks all of her phone messages and puts out some fires. Steve and his parents are having a big dinner party tonight, and we need to wash off the sweat and grime and all of the bug spray. We are bringing a big slab of halibut, some baked beans, and a salad with melon and fresh blueberries.

 I was amazed at the endurance of the three that hiked to the peak of the mountain. It was super steep and twelve miles.  Lots of downed trees, devils club, rocks, and tree roots to negotiate.  The trail got to be more and more dim as they went on, because few take it to the end. Also, as I found in my previous hike to the alpine country, rock doesn't show the trail so well, so folks make some piles of stones to mark the way.  But they did this long hike between 8 am and 4 pm, so that they could get back for high tide, and get back to town to host the party.

I had dinner with one of Charity's twin daughters, and Steve, who remarked to me that it was a perfect day, and a great way to put final closure on JoHanna's passing, as well as fulfill her wishes.  It was a great adventure!

Tomorrow morning I'm taking Steve, his nephew, and another friend from Oregon to the Tutka Lagoon for some fish snagging before they head back to Anchorage to make their flight back to Oregon.

So this is Pushki...

Also called Indian Celery or Cow Parsnip - but the Russians call it Pushki, and so do all the locals.  Pushki is native to most of north america, but I don't remember ever seeing it in Minnesota. It's especially prevalent in Alaska though, and grows all around the fringes of Maria's yard.  It's usually waist to head high, and has big hollow stalks, and huge leaves.  Maria has been warning me to stay away from it, but until the other day, it hasn't seemed to bother me a bit. Apparently though, if you brush the leaves - it can leave a residue on you, and once activated by the sun, it can leave some nasty chemical burns.  Interestingly, I just read on Wikapedia that the Native Alaskan Indians used it for all kinds of things, including remedies for sickness, ointments, and they even eat the stalks when it is young (It does look kind of like Rhubarb).

Anyway, a few days ago, I declared war on the stuff because it grows crazy around here. It takes over the fringe of the lawn, grows tall, and starts to lean out. Whenever I mow the grass, I brush up against it.  I also have places where I dump the grass trimmings, and any brush or vegetation that I have had to rake or trim around here, and my trails are getting overgrown with Pushki.  The weed whacker takes care of it nicely, and I was having a ball last Monday laying waste to the Pushki.  I was working up a good sweat in the sunshine, and Maria was so happy with what I was doing when she brought me some lemonade.  But the next day, my arms were covered with a rash that looked just like poison Ivy. Then the next day, it was all blistered and oozing. It doesn't itch, but it is really raw and just pretty annoying.  I've been around the Pushki alot throughout June and July - and I'm not sure why it didn't get me before, but for whatever reasons, the conditions were ripe for it now, and it sure got me good. I will beware of the Pushki from now on!

Pictures don't do justice, but my arms are blistered and oozing.

And I am crying like a baby, showing my most unhappy face. Actually, it's not really that bad. I'd rather have Pushki burns than poison ivy - that's for sure.

Fishin' wit Maria's boys

Joseph (18) on the left, and Christian (25), center, are back from six weeks out gill-netting for salmon in Bristol Bay.  Funny how they are sick and tired of their big boats and salmon netting, but jumped at the chance to go out in my small boat and bottom fish for halibut while just relaxing. This is nothing like work!

Below, Joe eyes up the halibut he just gaffed for me, while Christian looks on.

Joe had a good tussle with this skate as they are really quite powerful swimmers and hard to get up off the bottom, especially in 200 feet of water.

Underside of the skate and the jig it ate.  Funny how their face resembles a person; Maria thinks he looks like a Ku Klux Klan member...

Interesting look at the eye of the skate and breathing holes...

Joey and his mom pose with fresh halibut, which we plan to deep fry for dinner.

Joey snagging for salmon in Tutka Bay Lagoon/hatchery.

Snagging was really quite good. After high tide that day, we got 17 pink salmon and 5 red salmon in about 90 minutes.

Back home, I cleaned the halibut and salmon quick, and we got the fish on the grill as the full moon was rising over the Kenai mountains across the bay.

Christian did a great job deep frying the halibut, and we enjoyed potato chunks, tomato salad, and ice cream for dessert while we watched a movie.  Later that night (shortly after 3 am), I awoke to dogs barking, and peeked out, and there was a bear IN MY BOAT!  I had made the mistake of leaving what was left of the lunch, and some smoked salmon in there, and the bear sniffed it out and climbed right in.  When I opened the door and stepped out into full view, the bear popped his head up (apparently he was lying on the floor behind the seats), looked over and saw me, and promptly hopped out and disappeared into the night.

Now Maria and I have an argument going on.  I say it's time to fill my bear tag. She says it's illegal to shoot inside homer city limits. I say: but this is Alaska. She says don't wake up her guests. I ask the guests directly, and they say no problem. Joe and Christian are on my side. Bears don't belong in my boat. Heck, he almost broke one of my rods. We'll see...   :-)

Maria - I know you will eventually read this. Just relax!