Some relatives and friends consider me crazy for taking off to the middle of nowhere to live in a tent for months, driving around NZ on my own, and wandering through Tiananmen Square during an 8 hour layover in Beijing. I’ll admit the Tiananmen adventure was something else, but everything else I’ve done pales in comparison to finding myself a job on a fishing vessel during winter in the Bering Sea.

From my journal the night I arrived in Seattle:“Ummm, what have I gotten myself into? After a lovely flight with 3 exit row seats to myself, I rode the Light Rail downtown, hailed a taxi driven by a Somalian, and found myself outside a locked gate, peering through the darkness at the illuminated F/V Starbound. Fortunately the gate code worked, and I approached the vessel and security tent to meet the drowsy guard at 23:30. After a brief panic about where my ID had gone, I located it and got squared away with a bunk and room number. Then I was free to climb aboard, but there was nobody to show me where to go.”

How many people climb on a legitimate boat and have to start wandering down halls to find their room and climb in a bunk for the night? I didn’t know a soul on that boat and had no idea what I was supposed to be doing to “backload” at 8 the next morning. For a quiet person like me, that’s gutsy.

Life started making a little more sense the next day when I saw the 2 friendly HR ladies I’d met in Seattle 2 months before. Eventually I started getting my feet under me, but I also learned I was one of 4 new employees surrounded by over 100 people who knew what was going on. In general, I feel like I never know what’s going on.

Well, so far life on a fishing boat has been like what many people would consider a boring cruise. There’s been a lot of sleeping, eating, looking out the window, and reading. I have no problem with it, but sadly for my mental health and gladly for my bank account, life’s about to get real.

You see, while I was enjoying all of the above-mentioned activities, we were merely making our way from Seattle, WA, to Dutch Harbor, AK. Aleutian Spray Fisheries pays by share rather than working hour, so while some companies make workers clean the factory or stay busy on the trip up, ASF pretty much lets workers relax. We worked 2-3 hours a couple of days, but we were mostly free to do whatever we wanted. Hence the glorious sleeping.

Along those lines, I’m 1000% glad I asked for a Kindle for Christmas. Working remote field jobs that limit my luggage/weight and living on a boat with limited locker space means traveling with adequate reading material is extremely difficult. Fortunately, a Kindle can hold more books than I could ever read in a field season, so that’s no longer an issue. Since leaving Seattle on Saturday the 11^th, I’ve read…

1.  Walden on Wheels: On the Open Road from Debt to Freedom (Ken Ilgunas)
2. Travels with Charley (John Steinbeck)
3. The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (Robert Louis Stevenson)
4. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (L. Frank Baum)
5. The Time Machine (H.G. Wells)
6. Paper Towns (John Green)
7. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer (Mark Twain)

Book #8 is If Your Dream Doesn’t Scare You, It Isn’t Big Enough: A solo journey around the world (Kristine K. Stevens)

We reached Dutch Harbor on the afternoon of Saturday the 18^th. Usually it’s a 6 day trip, but as we approached the Alaska Peninsula, a storm picked up and forced us to take shelter by an island overnight before we could cut through “the pass” that separates the North Pacific from the Bering Sea. I wish I could post videos to show the view from the wheelhouse and the video I took of waves crashing over the bow of the boat and splashing across the wheelhouse windows. Apparently 65-70mph winds are pretty impressive, even for seasoned captains.

I was asked for the umpteenth time if I’d been seasick yet, and when I answered with a negative, the captain and 2 others said that was incredible. Everyone’s been telling me that if I haven’t been sick yet, I’m safe, so I’m praying they’re all correct! (We encountered quite the waves right from the get-go – compared to usual – and they lasted the first 4 or so days.)

We were supposed to have a pretty brief stay in Dutch Harbor and be back out on the water to start fishing when pollock season opened at noon on Monday the 20^th. However, while using the bow crane to offload supplies that first night, the crane broke and fell onto the dock! (Once again I was shown that I possess very little of the self preservation gene. I heard the loud clatter, felt the boat shake, and then rolled over to fall back asleep. Many people jolted awake wondering what had happened while I contentedly returned to dreaming. I’m glad I’m so concerned about safety.)

We couldn’t go anywhere with the crane broken off, so Sunday and Monday were spent fixing it. Apparently the bolts had tired out, let go, and let the giant arm topple over. The manly men went about fixing it while the rest of us went back to reading, sleeping, watching movies, showering while not having to deal with a rocking boat, calling our parents to ask for entertainment, etc. Fortunately the life of nothingness ended last night. The crane was once again operational to offload the rest of the supplies overnight, and I felt the boat leaving port around 6 this morning. We’re back at sea!

Any time now someone will come knocking on my door for me to go start making money. I’m on the first shift, meaning my hours will be 4am until 8pm. I’m a little bummed I’ll be without windows for all daylight hours, but I’ve also been told there’s not much to see. After all, I’m not getting paid to enjoy the scenery. Nope, my job – no joke – is pulling guts out of fish.

Note: While, amazingly, there’s internet in the Bering Sea, it’s not particularly speedy for uploading photos. Unless it happens to seem fast when I have time to post, you’ll have to imagine what it looks like out here. Sorry!