Christmas Alaska Style

Many years ago... I think either 1995 or 1996 I spent a Christmas to remember... Diving.
  Scott and I had teamed up diving for Abalone for the month of October. We met other divers who informed us that there were other options to keep us busy for most of the winter. Diving for Sea Cucumbers.
  During those years of Abalone diving, the season for Cucumbers did not open until the first of November and would go into January as the quota of harvest remained strong.
  It was mid December by the time the close to town quota was harvested forcing us to make a two day run from Sitka to a Bay on the far side of Chatham Straits, called Tebenkof. Scott was called by a friend just days before we left asking us to haul a complete camp of tents and other supplies as the dive group had no boat and planned on staying for a full month until the dive season closed. We ran with another friend and troller, Jay, who had a boat named the Lillian Ann.
  It was bitter cold and Jay talked us into hauling some old scraps of carpet with us. That would come in very handy we were to find out.
  Chatham Strait was unusually calm for our trip down and we made great time. We cruised into Tebenkof early in the afternoon the day before the opening. All our dive ares were on a Monday - Tuesday dive time.
  Scott and I were diving off an eighteen foot aluminum skiff that we towed behind Scott's big troller, the Elizabeth Ann. We had an old fisherman for our tender, Bill. Bill was in his seventies or eighties, strong as an ox and a mechanical genius. Anything that broke, Bill could figure out how to fix it. A real blessing to have on a dive operation.
  We anchored the Elizabeth Ann in a quiet bay and enjoyed a relaxing evening.
  To bed early in anticipation of a grueling hard day tomorrow.
  At about one or two in the night we woke up to a horrific sound. A grinding crushing sound of wood being ripped open.
  "We mush have dragged off anchor and are crashing into the beach!" on of us shouted as we bailed out of bed and fired up the boat spot light.
  No shore close, but what we saw was unbelievable. The bay had frozen over and the out going tide pulled all the solid ice right into our anchored boat.
  "Quick, get the skiff untied and break ice so it does not cut the wooden hull in half!" Scott shouted.
  Bill and I raced outside to biting cold. Back inside for more clothing and then to the skiff tied to the back of the boat.
  Scott had the Elizabeth Ann's engine fired up and was pulling anchor rope in as quickly as the winch would wind. He needed to get to the heavy chain before the ice sliced the poly line in two.
  Bill and I drove the skiff around the Elizabeth Ann to its bow and began weaving back and forth in front of the boat to break the huge bay of frozen ice racing to the helpless boat.
  Scott was quickly getting the carpet scraps tied to lines and hung over the side and into the water. The carpet would protect the wooden hull... if he could get it in place quickly enough.
  Back and forth, back and forth Bill and I ran the little metal boat grinding and breaking ice. It was a nasty sound to anyone who cares about boats and motors. We just hoped the ice would break before the thin aluminum hull. Throughout the early morning we would switch running the skiff to come inside and warm up.
  Darkness gave way to dawn at about eight thirty and we were still grinding away in the little skiff. Hands and feet were frozen, as was ears and noses, but we could not stop, our lives depended on us making this work.
  At daylight the last of the ice moved past us and we tied the skiff to the mother boat. Exhausted, we staggered into the warm house and fell into soft seats.
  "Well boys, Bill said, "Diving starts in about an hour so if you guys want to get into your dive suits, I'll rummage up something for breakfast.''
   Starting a six hour dive day totally exhausted is not the way to do things, but we had no choice... and we were young.
  Scott and I dove in that freezing cold water all day, and the next one as well. Sometimes Bill would have to use the skiff to break ice as it drifted towards our yellow dive hoses. He did not want a big slab of ice to cut our air hose and leave us on the bottom airless.
  We spoke to Jay while selling our catch at the tender. He too had found a bay full of ice, but had thought ahead and had his carpet hanging the night before. They were able to sleep through most of the grinding knowing that at least his hull was safe from cuts.
  The group that we hauled the tent for opted for staying on Jay's boat as it was much warmer than staying on the beach in a couple feet of snow in a tent.
  We Dove for a couple of weeks in Tebenkof before the quota was caught.
  Christmas morning found us tied to a dock at a little waterfall, hot springs place called Baranof Warm Springs.
  The snow was a few feet deep and blanketed the entire place. A huge waterfall plunged out of a high mountain lake in a boiling sheet of white water. Ice coated the edges of the falls making this Christmas morning one of the most beautiful any of us had ever seen.
  We soaked in some hot tubs we cleared of snow and filled with the natural running hot water. Talk about a great time.
  I found a small branch from a pine tree and made us a small Christmas Tree to put on the table of the boat. We shared a meal with Jay and the other divers. I think there were eight of us. All of us thanking the Good Lord for His blessings.
  It certainly was a Christmas to remember, Alaska style!