I’ve got work on a tender called Providence. The owner/skipper, Craig is a relatively calm but hard-driving man who tries to work his boat as much as possible. He resides in Kodiak and likes to “dabble“ in real estate. The other mate, Zack, is a sixteen-year-old kid on a work program to avoid juvenile detention back in Oregon. Some rather adult philosophy seasons his adolescent attitude. And he’s a good worker - when he’s not sleeping.

I’ve been on this charter for four days. We’ve packed a quarter of a million pounds of salmon, lost fuel flow to the John Deere generator (twice), tore the 10-inch suction hose off our Transvac fish pump, and run aground steaming through Whale Pass. We were on the rocks for about eight hours waiting for the tide to come up enough to float us off. Again, the work remains relatively easy while the hours border insanity. I welcomed the respite.

Kodiak itself seems like a pretty chill place. There are lots of young people, every kind of outdoor activity imaginable, and, if you like boats or any boat-related industry, plenty of work all year long. The Coast Guard station looks like a major university campus, and the word is they have a nicer bowling alley and movie theater on-base than they do in town. A recent population boom paved the way for, yes, a Wal-Mart, but the local sporting goods stores survive. The funky homespun things maintain also, like the Kodiak Classic Golf Tournament - one hole, about two thousand feet straight up the mountain. The hardcore guys drink a beer with each swing. I don’t know if anybody has ever actually won the thing.

I’ve committed here through the end of this month, at which time the daily mean temperature will determine if I stick around or start sliding south. At best I’ll have a pocketful of cash and amazing prospects. At a minimum I’m eager to see a bear up close. Then the Alaska trek will feel complete and I can bounce whenever.