SOUTH BOUND BIRDS

  Rain poured down. Not a day for working outside, except in South East Alaska.

  Fall always bring rain. Not just rain, but rain pushed by wind.
  I read the forecast to my wife.
   “Outside waters: Gale warnings, winds SE 40 knots. Tomorrow: Gale warnings, winds 35 knots seas building from 15 foot to 21 feet.. Rain!”
  We could look out our window at Vitskari Rocks and see the huge swells pushing smashing waves over the rocks. Open the sliding door of the condo and you can hear the roar of waves crashing into the breakwater.
  “Must be dive season,” I commented to Rene.
  Every winter the wind, rain, and big ocean accompany our winter diving for Sea Cucumbers. Just part of the game.
  I have the boat hauled out to make the change from fishing to commercial diving. Load after load of fishing supplies ride in the back of the truck bound for the garage, while load after load of dive gear take its ride from the garage to the boat.
  I try my best to dodge the heavy rain and do my work in the lighter misting rain. Most times you just get caught in the heavy rain anyway. Full rain gear from head to toe is in order.
  I am staring out the window again this morning, watching the trees thrash about in the rain driven wind. Sure looks like a good 40 knot blow happening.
Something out over the ocean catches my eye. Smoke?
  I quickly grab the binoculars and scan the white capping ocean. There is the smoke. It is not smoke at all, but a huge flock of migrating geese.
  We have been watching the ducks and geese fly South for a few weeks now. The little ducks like teal lead the way, followed by the larger mallards, Gadwalls, and other such ducks.
The ducks seem to migrate just ahead of the bad storms.
  The Geese do their migrating right in the heart of the big blows.  We will watch for days and see nothing but ducks, but when we wake up to the wind trying to rip the trees out by the roots, the silly geese start flying.
  They work so hard against the wind. We watch them drop from high altitudes by the mountains to skim the water of the ocean out front.
  Big wings beat steady as the hearty birds struggle their way into the gale force winds. These birds are coming from the nesting grounds near the arctic circle, so we know many of the birds are youngsters making their first journey South.  The old birds do not wait for them but muscle their way forward. Many times we watch singles struggle behind the flock working hard to catch up and gain the draft of the stronger birds.
   It is quite a time of the fall, the waterfowl migration.
  My big question is: “If the birds are smart enough to head South, Why am I not headed that way as well?”

Blue Tongue found in Alaska Hunter

  A hunter in Alaska has been found with a bad case of blue tongue. Let me tell you how it happened.

  I woke up early, sipped a couple cups of coffee, and waited for daylight to reach silvery fingers across the ocean.
  Fog laid heavy across the channel blocking the islands just a mile away. The big volcano was no longer sitting in its usual place, being replaced by a smoky layer of fog.
  I had planned on hiking the mountains behind town in search of my first deer of the season, but fog was one element that keeps me off the steep hills.
  Daylight was chasing the darkness across the ocean when I thought I'd better take a look behind our condo and up the hill, just to make sure the fog was covering those mountains as well.
  I could hardly believe it. Bare hills greeted my sleepy eyes.
  I hurried back inside and jumped into my hunting clothes, grabbed the rifle, and raced to the truck.
  I was late getting to my usual hunting spot, but I certainly needed the exercise as much as getting a big buck.
  Rain had soaked the Island for the past three days so this was going to be a very wet hike. Nothing new to hunting in South East Alaska. It is always wet when bushwhacking through the thick underbrush. Thank goodness for Rivers West rain pants and coats.
  I staggered my way up the steep mountain. It is nearly a 3,000 foot climb to get to the hunting area, and my legs are so out of shape from a summer of just riding waves.
  A hike that usually takes me about an hour dragged into the second hour and still I was not over the top. I was sweating like crazy and constantly fogging up my glasses. I stopped near the top to clean my fogged lenses once again. Glasses cleaned, I reached down to get the gun when I did a double take.
  Blue Berries! Everywhere I looked was blue berries.
  "I need the rest," I told myself as I munched happily on handfuls of the tasty little berries.
  Hunting put on hold, I grazed my way slowly up the mountain. Who needs breakfast when you stumble into a loaded berry patch.
  I did make it to the top. Deer were everywhere, but the bucks were well hidden due to my late arrival.
  I had fun calling in eight does and fawns, four of which came close enough to hit with blue berries if I would have tossed them.
I made it back to the truck and discovered something crazy. Blue tongue!
  In the wild deer herds blue tongue is a terrible killer. Many of the western herds of deer have died due to the dreaded blue tongue.
  Today the blue tongue was not a killer. Instead I smiled in the mirror at my blue lips and tongue.
  I'll worry about the big buck next time. Today was the enjoyment of marvelous wild berries I love grazing my way up and down the mountains this time of the year, munching on blue berries.

Final Fish of my Season

  The weather forecast looked good for salmon fishing near Cape Edgecumbe. The Cape tends to stack up during any blow, as all the water from Sitka Sound moves out and meets with the main ocean water trying to move into the Sound. Toss a little wind on top and you get some ugly sea conditions to try fishing in.
  "Should be a nice day," I commented to the clients as I motored the boat towards the Cape.
Surprise! The wind was much more than the fifteen knot predicted. I had two women on board and I try to take it easy on them
I don't mind beating the guys up a little, but just having the ladies come out fishing is always something to treasure.
  We made our first pass for salmon and boated eight nice silver salmon. I put the troll gear on deck and motored into the building waves, crashing our way back up to the starting point. Our next pass had just as many gleaming silvers in the fish hold.
  The wind was blowing a good twenty knots and the waves were trying their best to jump into the boat as we trolled.
  One of the  ladies became very seasick. It was time to make a decision.
  "Reel them in," I said, "We are making a move."
  Not much whimpering from the others, as we figured we could easily finish our twenty four fish limit on a different part of the ocean.
  I made a long run into the building seas to get tucked behind Biorka Island.
 Ah, calm water, now to find some fish. We trolled and trolled to find just one keeper king salmon.
  "If you guys want halibut, we'd best get out there right now. It looks like the wind had dropped off a bit," I commented to the group.
  I asked the lady who had been sick if she was up for another go at the ocean. "You bet," she said, "Don't give up on the fish for my sake."
  We bounced our way out of the channel and to the closest halibut spot I had. I dropped the hook in a nice rolling swell. The wind had dropped enough to make it a very fishable day.
  We caught a couple of rock fish and a small keeper halibut. One client kept saying he wanted to see a 200 pound halibut.
I joked with him that I didn't want to hurt my back on a big fish today.
  "Fish on!" shouted the client as his rod bent double with the surge of a big fish.
  "Wait, you might be snagged on bottom," I said as I raced to his rod to make sure he was not snagged. His rod throbbed with the surge of a monster halibut.
  "You've got a good one on, keep reeling," I coached.
  It was like the big fish was glued to the bottom. Each time the client would get a few feet of line on the reel the big fish would race right back to the bottom.
  "Keep working it. Eventually you will get him off the bottom," I encouraged.
  After quite some time the big fish began haning on the line and not fighting to get to the bottom. Now we had a chance.
  I prepared the deck for a big fish, all the time thinking it would be just over 100 pounds. We are not allowed to keep a halibut unless it is over 68 inches which books out at a whopping 160 pounds.
  At about one hundred feet to go, the big fish just refused to come any higher in the water. The client would reel as the boat lowered on the swell but the line would just strip off the drag when the boat bounced back up the swell.
  "Only big halibut will hold you like this at a hundred feet," I told the client. I grabbed the line with my gloved hand to assist.
As the boat surged up the swell I would pinch the line as hard as I felt I could without snapping it. The client would reel in the slack and we would gain just inches at a time. Slowly we worked the big fish past that one hundred foot mark.
  "Color over here!" Shouted another client on the other side of the boat. He had been working on a smaller halibut so I had put all my attention on the big fish.
  I raced to the rail on the far side of the boat to see a nice forty pound halibut hanging in the water.
  I gaffed the fish on board just to hear, "Fish up! Wow, it's huge!"
  "Stop reeling! Keep it under water! Don't let its nose break the surface," I franticly screamed as I tossed the smaller fish into the fish hold to get the deck clear.
  I raced to the rail to see a huge halibut hanging just below the surface.
  "Oh my goodness, that's a monster fish!" I shouted.
  Slowly I eased the big fish to the surface and got a large shark hook into its lower jaw. The monster went crazy. I dug in for the fight and just held on until the big fish tired out.
  Now it was up to us three men to get the halibut into the boat. The three of us grabbed the shark hook rope and began pulling
  "Give it all you've got!" I shouted as we grunted the big fish into the boat.
  The fish landed on the deck and everyone raced for cover. What a monster.
  We grabbed a tape and measured the fish. It was 83 inches long and booked out at an amazing 312 pounds.
  What a great fish on a storm tossed day.
  On the ride home I told the lady who had been sick that she was the one who truely earned that fish. If she had not wanted to go back out into the waves for one more try, I would have just been happy to fish salmon in the calm waters the rest of the day.

  What a great fish to end my season with.