A WICKED WINTER NIGHT – By Capt. Jack
The Bering Harvester pounds through challenging waves. The gale blows sea spray across our decks that flash freezes, adding weight to the boat. Having delivered our last load of fish, we’re enduring the 200-mile return to our fishing area. Boats can roll in icing conditions, but if I continue at reduced speed in the inky black night, the spray should be manageable. Squinting at the chart, my eyes burn from being awake for 24 hours. I plot a course skirting the peninsula separating the North Pacific and Bering Sea, keeping the trawler five miles from land. The first watch arrives in the wheelhouse to relieve me: Johnny, our youngest crewman at 24. His dark eyes look brighter after a few hours’ sleep. “If the wind picks up or the temp drops, wake me,” I say and go below deck to catch a nap. click here to read the story! 10:52
Nice to see some tales being shared on Fishery Nation. I had to wonder about the bacon though. There was no waiting around for coffee or breakfast or special ice mallets when this happened back in the day – just got out the baseball bats and went to work ASAP!