The Kings are IN!

We got it right this time!

For more pictures: http://picasaweb.google.com/jillcaho/FishingExtravaganza

Fishy

We decided that if it was calm when we woke up on Friday, we would focus on getting some fish for the freezer. While we didn't break any records for the largest fish ever caught, fish we did managed to catch, In fact after about an hour, Bryant and I had 4 fish in the box, and we were wishing we hadn't kept the first two smaller fish. Seeing as we had a pretty hot halibut bite, we begged the kids to come out of the cabin and catch some more, but they didn't want to.


Instead, the kids decided to wait until we reached the Jakalof Public Dock to begin their fishing expedition. With their short little ice fishing rods, reels, hook, and a piece of herring, they spent hours that evening catching and releasing cod, and of course a little crying and arguing over who caught whose big fish. At one point, I couldn't help it; I had to remind them that their chance to catch the "big fish" was a few hours back. They said halibut fishing wasn't much fun. Now that sounds fishy to me!

R-e-l-a-x-i-n-g . . . .

Nice weather, good meals, wind, and a few fish - does life get much better? The kids and I met Bryant after work in Anchorage on Thursday and we all drove down to Homer for the weekend. After spending much of Friday taking care of boat chores, we sailed downwind in a slow breeze to Halibut Cove where we spent the night. We came back on Saturday beating upwind into what started out as a slight breeze and then increased to 15-20 knots and rolling waves 4-5 feet tall. Saturday night, we spent in the harbor and on Sunday morning, we fished not far from the spit for 2 hours before packing up to come home again.

Homer Small Boat Harbor

I'm on a mission to learn how to operate the boat in tight quarters (i.e. the harbor). Out in the big blue ocean and in relatively calm seas, I'm fine. But get me in the confines of a boat harbor with everyone's expensive toys surrounding me, I get a little bit nervous. For the five summers that we've owned a boat, I've done a great job of avoiding any "Captaining" responsibilities in the boat harbor. I've really had no reason to learn as Bryant is good at docking and I complement his abilities by agilely moving my way around the deck and securing lines so well. Lately though it's been bothering me that I am not competent in docking. If ever I want to take a trip without Bryant, I need get my act together in the docking department, so I decided to designate some time each trip driving the boat in and out of the harbor.

With this newly founded decision implanted in my brain, I started to drive us out of the Homer harbor on our way to Halibut Cove on Friday, but immediately had to call for backup because the boat wasn't steering in the direction I needed it to go. Upon hearing my frantic cries for help, Bryant realized that when I put the motor down, I forgot to hook up the steering linkage, hence no steering capabilities. Even with boats creeping closer than I like them to be, he managed to lift the latch, flick the linkage in place, and get us going in the direction we needed to go. Okay, no problem . . . disaster diverted. One mistake made and one lesson learned that I hopefully won't repeat in the future.

Right after I took control again, I noticed up ahead blocking the exit to the harbor were two huge 100ft + long commercial crabbing boats similar to the ones you see on the Deadliest Catch Discovery Channel TV show. At closer inspection, I realized that initially they were docked side by side and the outside boat had to move its position so the inside boat could make its way to the fuel dock. Just as my heartbeat began to increase and my palms started to sweat, I spotted an esacpe route around this harbor switch-a-roo. They didn't nearly take over the entire exit. Breathing a sign of relief that more drama wasn't about to unfold, I motored around the big boat obstacle and head out into Kachemak Bay.

Halibut Cove Public Dock

I managed to dock the boat in Halibut Cove's Public Dock that evening, but not without anxiety. At first, I didn't tell Bryant to drop the daggerboard halfway and put one rudder down before docking, but I remembered in time and I successfully backed it up until all was in order to go back in. Granted I had a few onlookers jokingly asking why were weren't sailing into our spot. While my gut turned circles on the inside, I casually explained that I was learning how to dock with a motor, forget the sails. They courteously dropped the jokes and added words of encouragement. So in the end, my first day at the controls of Sol Searching in tight quarters didn't cause any new scratches or dings on our boat or any others. However, I hope in the future it evolves into an experience that is a little less tense and aligns itself in familarity with parking a big truck in the crowded grocery store parking lot.

For more pictures: http://picasaweb.google.com/jillcaho/HalibutCove

Officially Last

I rallied the kids into climbing the Butte today and surprisingly it wasn't so hard. Autumn agreed to a hike the night before and today when I told the boys we were hiking the Butte, they just asked if they could bring along Asa, our neighborhood popcorn selling Boy Scout. The commitment of climbing the Butte also means picking out ice cream upon completion. I didn't even have to say it when I gave the direction to get ready to go, but they knew from our past routine. The truck wasn't even out of the driveway before a voting session on ice cream bars or the 1/2 gallon carton of ice cream was on the table.

We were a couple miles down the road and I realized Gus had on a pair of old slip on shoes with no socks. I refrained from a lecture on preparation, because I had no intention of turning the truck around. However, I could not refrain from adding a few words of caution about climbing on the rocks with those not so sticky loose shoes he has on.

When we reached the parking lot, Wyatt, Asa, and Gus scrambled up the dusty trail. Autumn and I trudged along. Autumn resting enough for me to catch up and then moving forward. About halfway up the 3/4 mile, 800 foot climb, I see Gus walking back down the hill toward me. "Why are you turning around? I asked rather confused. "It's only a little way," he replies. Then adds with confidence, "I know I can keep up with you. Wyatt and Asa are too fast."

So in the end, it didn't matter that the skinny forgetful 6th grader with no socks and worn out sloppy slip on shoes wore the wrong shoes. It is me who now earns the spot as "Officially Last."