Here I was on a trip home to the Mitten, stranded between jobs and yet unsure of what the next job would entail.

Since I dislike working in town and didn’t want to settle for some virtually meaningless job, I’d decided to try for a job that would supposedly pay decently: commercial fishing in the Bering Sea. Now you’re probably picturing me flailing around on some small vessel like you see on Deadliest Catch. Don’t worry, I shouldn’t be thrown overboard this winter. I was looking for a job as a fish processor: the bottom job on larger vessels – one of the nobodies who sort, chop, fillet, and package seafood for distribution.  Sounds glorious, eh? Not particularly, but it seemed like a better adventure than staying car-less in frozen Fairbanks. The difficulty lay in breaking my way into the industry with my only boating experience being a “deckhand” on the Chena River… which hardly counts.

Of course it took an adventure to make this whole crazy scheme come to fruition, and this adventure happened while I was staying with a friend in Seattle. I’d just finished spending about 3 weeks in Michigan visiting family and friends, and of course I didn’t accomplish anything I needed to take care of while I was there. I should have applied for jobs while in the comfort of a home, but I didn’t find the quiet I needed to crank out the applications.

After I reached Seattle, the reality that I had nothing lined up for winter started to hit me harder. My friend Matt was beyond kind enough to offer me a place to stay and also give me rides to run some errands. I hate imposing on friends, but I didn’t know when I’d be headed down to see my pups in Eatonville or anything, so I was keeping my schedule too flexible for Couchsurfing to be a viable option. I took up his offer, and after he picked me up downtown and we visited that first night, I became the most boring guest ever. For real.

I kid you not. I arrived on Monday night and proceeded to do nothing but apply for jobs online throughout Tuesday, Wednesday, and half of Thursday! Like I am right now, Matt was enjoying the jobless life with no schedule and the perks to go along with it. He’d emerge from his room around 10:00am most days, and I’d take a break from applications to socialize during breakfast. Then he’d do what my poor mom (a talker who never sees me) can’t do: he’d disappear into his room for hours and not distract me with any conversation. It’s amazing how productive I can be when all I have are soundtracks and a job search on my mind. Equally amazing is how absolutely mind numbing the process becomes. Every now and then I’d find a company that required a paper application, so I’d get to go on a field trip to the library that was conveniently located 5 minutes away!

I’d break out of my bubble of monotony to chat a bit whenever Matt made an appearance, which generally happened on a food-based schedule. When he had a curling match one evening, I did allow myself to go because – laugh if you will – curling has intrigued me for years. Curling is pretty calming to watch, even though it’s a game of precision and skill with its moments of stress. Matt’s team also has some national experience and wears plaid, so how could I not take an evening off?

Honestly, that’s what my life consisted of for 2.5 days. At the end of those days, I had completed 12 applications to companies such as Trident Seafoods, Blue North Fisheries, Unisea, Icicle Seafoods, etc. I could have tackled a couple more, but I decided I was done. Never before would I have believed that I’d have the addresses, phone numbers, dates of employment, “basic” responsibilities (how does one summarize trapping a female brant and taking measurements?), and starting/ending salaries for my last 3 employers memorized. Good grief! Once finished with applying, all I could really do was wait to hear if I’d be wanted at a mandatory recruiting event (aka interview and information session).

Being in Seattle, I knew I could stop by the headquarters for most of these companies to be that face with an application, but I didn’t know if it’d be worth the effort. (As had been suggested to me, I’d stopped at the AK Dept. of Fish and Game office in Fairbanks to check on potential jobs, and I was greeted with “Here’s a card with our website. Check there.”) With an experience like that, I wasn’t too keen on wasting a day wandering around Seattle in this age of ‘Use the Internet for Everything!’

That Saturday, however, my opinion of the value of face-to-face contact in the fishing industry changed when I went for a run. Yes, I admit I think about a number of topics while running, but this wasn’t one of them. This is where that crazy random happenstance I alluded to last time comes into the picture. As I left Matt’s, I was just happy to be doing something active and free to explore a virtually unknown area. I’d thought about running to Carkeek Park, but I figured I’d just make up a route as I went. Soon I found myself in a neighborhood with a fantastic view of Puget Sound and the Olympic Range beyond.

There I was in early November, jogging and walking along on my first run since the burn-blister incident of late September, when a man got out of his pick-up and said, “Hey, I know you,” as I ran by.

“Umm, I don’t think you do,” I responded.

In fact, he did not know me, but I look like someone he knows. From that one point of interest, we somehow launched into conversation. Early on I mentioned how I was just visiting from Alaska, and he told me he’d spent a few years up there working for the timber and fishing industries. At this point my mental jaw dropped as I wondered how I’d stumbled upon someone who could offer insight on how to enter the industry. I could hardly keep a little grin off my face.

Actually, it gets even better than that. This man (Dave) had gotten out of a pick-up in a driveway, and a friend of his was parked in front of the house. Both of these men had worked in Alaska’s fishing industry and started tossing out names of companies to which I should apply. Fortunately, I recognized all the names and had applied to most of them.

When I asked if I should stop by company HQ to follow up on my applications, I was given a solidly affirmative answer. As I’d once thought, companies like to see someone take the initiative to appear at their office. Even more than that, the 2 guys said I looked like a rugged girl who could handle the fishing industry; I should show up in my Carhartts, hiking boots, rain jacket, and MSU Spartan hat to show I was the type. Perfect! 🙂 Taking their advice to heart, I resolved to make the rounds on Monday.

Here’s the funny angle of this whole exchange: neither of them live at that address. Dave was just dropping off fresh fish and crab at friends’ houses; his brother owns a fishing boat they go out on. I just happened to run down that particular street at the time he was stopping at that house.

For whatever reason, Dave decided he really wanted to help me out with my job search, so we chatted about other possible jobs before I finally announced I should get going. We didn’t part ways before Dave gave me his card and said to call to see if I could go fishing with his brother and him. [I can’t make this stuff up!]

Now, how’s that run for a “God thing,” as a pastor back home would say?

I had a jogger’s high for the short trip back to Matt’s, but the whole time all I could think of was how my travels seem to yield random bursts of excitement in which I meet friendly or helpful people. I’m an introvert, but I just happened to meet some nice guys who were extroverted enough to make that conversation possible. I could be wrong, but I think events like this happen more easily for solo/quiet travelers, as well.

Little episodes like that are what make travel so delightful. These things don’t happen when you live in one place and work a 9-5 job that gives you little freedom for anything else. Now, did I go fishing on a boat in Puget Sound?