I grabbed my rifle, back pack, and then layered several layers of cold weather gear before heading out the door to where Mike was hooking up to his skiff. Daylight was just thinking about breaking through the sky.
"Wow, it's freezing out here," I mumbled to him as I stuffed my things into his truck. Clouds of steam puffed around our faces as our breath vaporized in the morning air.
Winter had its strangle hold on South East Alaska. The cold snow on the mountain peaks was here for the rest of the year, maybe to melt off by next June, July, or even August.
"This is going to be a very cold boat ride," I commented to Mike as he drove to the boat ramp at the end of the road.
"Sure is, Hope we dressed warm enough," he replied back.
We were boat excited to run the beaches one more time in search of Sitka Blacktail deer. The snow level was not quite enough to move the deer onto the beaches, but with the constant cold and the November rut in full swing, we were hoping to catch the bucks chasing does onto the beaches.
The boat ramp was frozen in a sheet of ice but Mike did a good job of keeping the sliding truck lined up with the boat until he reached the unfrozen tide line.
"Wow, good job keeping it straight," I said. I unhooked the boat and grabbed the tie up line as he continued backing the boat into the water.
I fired up the 35 hp outboard to let it warm up as Mike parked the truck and trailer.
We struggled into our float coats, ear warmer hats, and mittens. Each item seemed difficult to get on as we were so bundled with clothing.
"Not a day I would want to go swimming," I said to Mike as I pushed away from the dock.
"It's froze up!" Mike said.
"What?"
"The shifter is frozen. I can't get it into forward or reverse," he said while working the shift lever gently back and forth.
Not uncommon in such cold weather. We had ran the boat yesterday and the water had frozen on everything since then.
At last he managed to get it moving a bit forward.
"There," he said, "I got it to shift into forward. let me try reverse." Slowly he shifted from forward, to neutral, and then into reverse.
"All good to go," mike beamed a smile at me.
We made a freezing run from Sitka an hour to the North to Salisbury sound, I was huddled over keeping my two hoods pulled over my stocking cap, but even then the cold seemed to reach inside and squeeze the warmth out of my ears.
Mike slowed the boat to an idle.
"Need to hit the beach for a warm up," he said. I was more than ready myself. All my morning coffee was sitting hard on my bladder.
"Wow, I haven't been this cold since the last time," I told Mike as I wrung some feeling into my fingers. We both danced about on the beach a while until we warmed a bit. I guess we could call it the "deer dance". It is more a bounce shuffle than a real dance, but on slick low tide rocks it can be interesting.
We cruised into a Big Bear Bay, then around and into Little Bear Bay, dodging skiff ice in both of them. You know its cold when the bays start freezing in salt water.
We rounded the corner near Surgis Narrows and decided to hit the beach for some muskeg hunting. We bungee anchored the boat. Mike has a long bungee cord attached to his anchor. We drop the anchor about twenty feet from shore, then motor into shore. We keep a long line from the boat to a tree high above the tide line, and then allow the boat to spring back over the anchor on the bungee. It is a great system for quick anchoring in tidal water. There is nothing worse than anchoring a boat while you hunt, to come back and find the tide gone out and your boat high and dry on the beach. You have to sit and wait for the next high tide swing before you can float the boat again. Yup, I really do like the bungee system!
Mike and I hunted for a couple hours with no luck. Back at the boat we decide to cruise the beaches at low tide on the way home.
We drag the nose of the boat onto the beach and get into our float coats and warm weather gear, wrap up the shore line, shove off and let the bungee spring us off the beach out to deeper water.
"Hey, I can't find my ear flap hat," Mike said from the front of the boat. He was looking around near where his float coat had been laying in the boat.
"I'll look back here," I said and turned to look in the back of the boat.
Mike hauled in the anchor hand over hand and I heard it clunk into the bottom of the boat with a rattle of chain.
I felt the boat lurch sideways and glanced up in time to see mike's legs following his body overboard and into the freezing ocean!
"Mike!" I shouted as I dropped the gun I was holding and raced to where Mike had been in the boat.
Mike's hands shot up out of the water and I grabbed the top of his float coat and pulled as hard as I could. He had a death grip on the side of the boat and was trying hard to climb back in. We got his elbows locked over the side of the boat but with all his now wet clothing, could not get him up over the side of the boat.
"I can't get you over the side!" I shouted the obvious to him. Mike raised a booted foot and locked it over the edge of the boat. I grabbed his leg and his shoulder and pulled as hard as I could while he rolled into the boat.
Mike laid in the bottom of the boat panting and I stood in total disbelief.
"I can't believe what just happened," Mike exclaimed. "I fell in!"
"Are you soaked to the skin?" I asked.
"No, I have so many layers of clothes on the water is only from my knees down. My boots are full," He answered back.
"Ok, this hunt is over," I said, "Let's get you back to town. If you feel at all numb, if you feel like your teeth are chattering, we are hitting the beach for a nice warm up fire! Agreed?"
"Yup, let's get out of here!"
Mike started the skiff engine and pointed the bow towards home. It would be a good hour run in very cold temperatures.
We hardly glanced at the beaches on the way back to the truck. I was constantly asking Mike if he was overly cold.
"Only my feet," he kept answering.
We raced back to the dock and Mike hobbled up the boat ramp to his truck. Cold feet makes you walk like a duck.
The next morning Mike and I sat drinking coffee and talking over how lucky and blessed we had been.
We discussed how quickly an excursion can go bad in Alaska. Had Mike been alone... he may not have been able to get back into the skiff. By getting his upper body out of the water quickly we were able to allow the layers of clothing to ward off the bone chilling water. We learned to always put our float coats on before getting into the boat, as you never know when it may save your life.
Mike had stepped on a dock bumper buoy which rolled under his feet flinging him backwards over the side of the boat. One minute he was fine, the next he was in a survival situation.
Mike was thankful he had placed his gun into the boat and not slung over his shoulder as he normally has it upon entering the boat. That would have been one lost gun, or at the very least a salt water drenched gun.
We are both thankful that this situation turned out good. It could have gone so much differently. Thank the Good Lord for watching out for us!
heading back to the anchored skiff
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