Shipwrecked Lobsters Make A Break For Freedom

I've always been a friend of the lifeguards. My brother is a lifeguard, and so are many of my friends. They spend about the same amount of time on the water as I do and I think they're just about the only ones who care as much as I do about tourists being safe, responsible and environmentally conscious beach-goers.

So the other day while I was sampling on the Balboa Pier in Newport Beach I naturally jumped up when I saw a lifeguard struggling down the pier with two large buckets of water. 

"Need a hand?" I said as I walked over to peer into his bucket. Inside each were three very large and very illegally caught lobsters. 

Thresher Sharks in Southern California!

Don't get me wrong, it's been a lovely summer here in Southern California.

At first I was ecstatic to be back in the land of tourists, surf competitions, and relentless sunshine, where traffic runs like clockwork and if it dips below 70F we all put on jackets as we go out for our evening yoga or zumba class. When I returned home I took up my previous jobs, working for CA Department of Fish and Wildlife (yay CRFS!), sampling fish, riding boats and occasionally saving animals and holding up fishing regulations (Politely, of course, by spreading information and asking them to voluntarily comply ... Sometimes thats all you need!). But life became a little predictable, and ok I'll say it, boring, without sub-polar storms, killer whales, or commuting by helicopter.

The good thing about field science is that it always has a way of coming out of left field with all manners of surprises, from a sticky, color changing, water squirting beast, or a couple hundred playful dolphins, to even a giant shark.

Species of Interest in Alaska

Since being back in the lower 48 I've realized one of the most amazing things about my trip to Alaska was the interesting, unique, and even adorable animals I learned and encountered out there. I decided a while ago to share a few favorite species on the blog and I've been collecting amusing stories and facts since then. It's been a fun little project that culminated in a several hour search for the cutest sea otter photo the internet has to offer!

I did get to see these animals in person, but I'm not a national geographic photographer, so I decided to just borrow some photos in an attempt to share with you what things actually look like.

Enjoy!

Yep, pretty much the cutest thing in Alaska.

Sea Otters: One of the coolest things about staring out the windows in Alaska is that eventually a sea otter will swim past you! As one of the first protected animals on the endangered species act, sea otters aren’t too common in most areas, and currently listed as threatened because of population declines on the Aleutians. They’re fairly large (average 5ft long! Thats as tall as me!) , agile and amusing individuals who can commonly be found fighting off seagulls for their lunch, swimming lazily through the bay, and even napping in the kelp! Sea otters can eat just about any sea creature they find but each otter usually has a favorite food, and refuses to eat pretty much anything else. They look just as adorable as you’d expect.

Dawwww, so cute. Not entirely sure its a SEA otter, this guy may be a river otter, but no one cares at this point.



Baby steller sea lions aren't too scary.

Steller Sea Lions: These are no ordinary California sea lions; steller sea lions are HUGE (up to 2,500lbs and over  10ft, as opposed to CA sea lions at a max 1,000lbs) and FEARLESS! Also, they’re always hungry. Sometimes people attempt to feed them by dangling fish over the side of the boat, which is pretty stupid in my opinion, let alone illegal. That sea lion would just as soon take your arm off along with the fish if it gave him a free meal. I’ve heard stories of sea lions jumping out of the water, landing in the trawl alley of a boat, among the deck hands, and ambling its way towards its fish of choice. You might think, “Oh, no worries! He’s going to be slow on deck, you know, not having legs to walk with and all!” WRONG, if you see one on the deck, that’s your queue to get off of the deck.   

Adult steller sea lions, a lot more terrifying.





Not actually a rockfish, still hilarious.

Rockfish: Maybe it’s just because I’m a marine biologist but I think rockfish are pretty cool. There’s probably over a hundred different species found all over the world, and they all go great in fish tacos! Usually in the grocery store they go by the term “snapper” or sometimes “grouper”. Fun fact: Some species of rockfish, like yelloweye, can live for over 130 years! (And it can take over 25 years for them to reach maturity)



Quilback Rockfish, this is what actual rockfish look like.

Sea Stars: Boats sometimes catch invertebrates in their trawls, and I think my favorite one of the bunch is the Basket Sea Star. This guy is related to your classic orange sea star found in tidepools and aquariums alike, but instead of having five set arms, this species 5 main arms branch into a web of tentacles, giving off a pretty alien appearance. Only recently discovered, not much is known about its habits, life cycle or population …  But the basket sea star is cool looking.



Favorite non-edible invertebrate, basket sea star!



Wolf Eel: One of the most terrifying fish that can come up in a trawl in the Aleutian Islands is a wolf eel. They can be eight feet long, have large sharp front teeth and most the time samplers see them they’re still very much alive! Apparently wolf eels are generally friendly to divers; so somewhere between trapping them in a fishing net, and torturing them on deck, they get pissy.

Yeah, wolf eels look majestic here, wait until they're trying to bite your fingers off while you're sampling. 





 

Orcas at dawn, doesn't get more cliche than this.

Orcas : If there’s anything more frightening than facing off with a wolf eel, its definitely facing off with an orca in the water beside you. Orcas are known to follow fishing boats, stealing fish from long lines, peering out of curiosity into the trawl alley and generally playing around, intimidating people, sea lions and fish alike. Don’t get me wrong, I love orcas, it’s the highlight of my day when we see them in the bay. They’re beautiful, photogenic and probably smarter than a good portion of humans. All I’m saying is, I think I’d pick swimming in shark infested waters before I dove into the water with an orca.





Every time I see orcas in Alaska, its obvious by the tall black dorsal fins, they couldn't be any other animal!



But damn are they photogenic!







Information from the book ‘Marine Mammals of Alaska’ by Kate Wynne and ‘Certainly More Than You Want to Know About the Fishes of the Pacific Coast’ by Milton Love



Note: None of these photos are mine, but its what the animals actually look like, my camera just isn't up to par. 









Alaskan Rush Hour

There is only one highway in Alaska and I’ve heard its one of the most dangerous roads in America. I wouldn’t actually know because I have never driven on it. This post is not about freeways, packed subways or any of those other typical commuting systems, this post is about how most people in Alaska commute to work. Before you ask, no, its not by sled-dog team, orca or polar bear ride … its by air.

Not my photo, but this is what flying over Alaska really looks like. 

Rush hour in Alaska, like most other places, is a predictable enough event, although instead of happening everyday at 7am and 5pm it happens each year at the beginning and end of fishing season.  There are essentially 5-6 “airports” (I use the term loosely for a reason, but we’ll get to that soon enough.) from which every person in the fishing industry attempts to fly into.  I’m talking everyone, fishermen, plant workers, contractors and, of course, observers. That’s almost two thousand people attempting to get through one little bottleneck of a transportation system, in a very small window of time, amidst Alaska’s  somewhat-less-than hospitable weather conditions.

We pick up my story just after Pollock processing in Akutan (which will hereby be referred to as Akutraz) finished for this season. My partner Mark and I were finished with our work at the plant sometime around Easter. All to excited to start our island hopping journey back to Seattle, we cleaned up our acts, packed all our gear  and prepared to leave immediately, but the plant had other plans for us. 

Upon asking, we were never really given exact details of when or how we might be leaving the plant. “Maybe tomorrow” was a central theme in my life for the next few days. Luckily the weather was beautiful for flying, unfortunately the only airline that flies to Akutraz had technical difficulties with ALL of their airplanes. So we waited. Each day we sat at breakfast/dinner (His breakfast but my night-shift dinner.) saying that we couldn’t possibly be stuck at the plant for too many more days, our hope and faith in the discussion waning as each day passed.  After we had our dinner/breakfast pow-wow Mark would head off to go wait for travel calls saying he’d wake me up if we got the call, I would go to sleep thinking this is my last sleep in Akutraz!

After a week of this game, we sat at our usual breakfast/dinner pow-wow, silently staring at our food. Neither of us wanted to play out the usual, “maybe tomorrow” conversation. We were out of hope, and done with this rock of an island. We needed to return to our cell phones, sushi and margaritas, in short, to civilization. After that dismal breakfast I was again sleeping in my room when I heard Mark through my door, “Ali, wake up, we’re on the helicopter at 10 today.”

“What? REALLY?!?! Ten? AM? … What time is it now?”

“Yes really. Get your shit packed. It’s 9am.”

We excitedly packed our bags and turned in our linens and keys! At 9:45 am the travel coordinator for the plant came into our office, “Lists have changed, which means you’ve been canceled.” 

What? How? H-h-h-how can they just do that? Just like that? No helicopter, no sushi, no cell phones? Defeated, I sulked back to my now empty room, to go sleep on a now bare mattress and wait for another day.  I had slipped into a black, exhausted sleep when I heard Mark yet again on the other side of my door, “Just kidding, we’re really flying this time. Get up. The van should take us to our flight in five minuets.”

This is how excited I was to be leaving. Always reminds me of that quote from Finding Nemo "The sun is shining, the tank is clean, and we are getting out of HERE!" 

Well this time he was right! It was an exciting ride. The wind was blowing; a weather front was headed in. As we lifted off the ground the helicopter immediately swayed in the wind. Each gust blew us one way or another, in this little bubble of flying metal and gasoline. Each time we tipped in the wind I got an all too broad view of the angry ocean below. The helicopter pilot was determined to fly all seventy people from Akutan to Akun so we could all make our flights from Akun to Dutch today! A little shaken up, but also excited we landed in Akun’s tiny, double-wide storage container trailer of an airport.   

We felt quite accomplished to be out of Akutraz, until we realized the airport’s only storage container trailer was so full of people you physically couldn’t fit another person inside. Not that there’s much in the trailer, its a heated room with a few folding chairs. No worries, it was in the high thirties and only slightly snow/raining, we could wait out or flight huddling on the leeward side of the “airport” trailer. 45 minuets of freezing our butts off later, an airport crewmember informed us that all 70 of the people waiting in the trailer we expected to make it out of Akun today … If the weather holds. Luckily the plane holds 9 people and there was only abouy 70 waiting to fly. Yay? We succumbed to the cold after a few hours, joined the least fun game of sardines ever, and set about thinking over “Why, oh why didn’t we think to grab lunch at the cafeteria before leaving Akutraz?”

As our turn to fly approached, the rate of time passing seemed to decrease in an almost asymptotic curve. I assumed when our plane eventually arrived, time would stop completely and we’d end up being stuck forever in this dingy, overcrowded trailer. The weather did nothing for our nerves. It got progressively worse until visibility was a fraction of what it was that morning and the wind was blowing so hard you could hear it screaming over the roof of our pitiful shelter.  

Finally we were the last 9 people left, and we heard the props of our plane as it touched down the runway! We jumped for joy, physically. It was surprisingly beautiful flight. The fog and weather came in patches over our 50 mile ride. At times we were flying in grey soup, but at other times we would edge out into a clear patch, and I realized we we’re flying over a sunbathed sea as the clouds swirled over the island mountain tops! It was beautiful. And then we saw Dutch Harbor. Our approach was much less violent that my experience flying in February. Again we flew through a valley so low you could see cliffs on both sides of the plane. Before I knew it we were hovering over the runway and smoothly touching down at the closest thing to civilization I’ve been to in the past three months! We had cell reception at last! We hopped in a cab to leave our bags at the bunkhouse and then headed off for a sushi dinner! (Which was amazing, but if anyone is qualified to judge raw fish quality I guess it’d be the people on the Aleutian Islands.) 

Hopefully we can fly back to the lower 48 tomorrow morning. But for that night I was contented with sushi, a drink, and a working cell phone.   Commuting in Alaska, like everything else, is extreme. So far my commute had taken over 5 days, and I had really only traveled 50 miles … in the opposite direction of home! (Yep, Dutch Hrabor is 50 miles WEST of Akutan.)

Over the next 3 days we played the “wait at the airport on standby for 9 hours everyday” game hoping to catch a flight to Anchorage. Finally we were able to talk our way onto a private charter plane headed to Anchorage that had a few extra seats. Our travel manager pulled some magic out of her hat, got us on the plane and we were home free! Well at least Seattle bound for once.

Sunset over Anchorage from the air. 

So the next time you're sitting in traffic, thinking this is taking forever and that you’ll never get home, remember that if you were working in Alaska it could take you three plane rides, a helicopter, 4 stop-overs and EIGHT DAYS just to get back to civilization! And that’s how Alaska does rush hour.

 

Hiking in Dutch Harbor while we were stranded. 

A Committment vs An Interest

One of the plant observers shared a great quote with me about the difference between interest and commitment:

"Taking an interest is when you participate in something when it's convenient. Commitment is when you take initiative and make it happen, no matter what."

 A lot of the time it is not possible to workout on the boat. There is no stationary bike, treadmill or space to run and forget swimming entirely! When the seas are rough I cant even do push ups, sit ups or squats. But I would like to think I have a commitment to my health and physical fitness. (Land Ali races triathlons for crying out loud!) My subconscious certainly does! One of my most frequent dreams as of lately has been of Pacific Coast Highway, on a sunny, windless day in SoCal. In my dream I'm riding south, past Newport Coast and along the rollers into Laguna Beach. I can feel the sun tanning my back and arms as I cruise the shoreside highway on my bike. The view is an amazing panoramic shot of the sparkling Pacific spreading out past the cliffs and kelp beds into a cloudless blue sky. I'm riding pretty hard, I can feel it in my heart rate and in my legs, but its a good pain of pushing the envelope, building on my endurance and making me stronger. I'll do about 45 miles on this road, and afterwards head over to my favorite breakfast burrito in Seal Beach before passing out for a solid mid-morning nap. It's one of my favorite rides at home (yes, this is a real place and memory from home, and I CHOSE to come to Alaska. ... What's wrong with me?)

Waking up to my dark bunk, incased in a claustrophobic house on a rocking boat in the middle of the frozen north is the definition of a rude awakening. But just because I am no longer home, and its not convenient (much less enjoyable!) to workout up here I want to stay fit and be able to pick up where I left off in CA when I return. So every time we offload in port I make every effort to walk over to the community gym. 

The first time I was not expecting much. Maybe a treadmill or a stationary bike (I prayed), some weights and a couple other machines would be acceptable. As I walked up to the little loft and looked around I realized there was an abundance of free weights, weight machines and even a hanging punching bag. No treadmill, but, my heart leapt as I spotted the little reclining stationary bike in the corner! Thank god! All I wanted in life at that moment was to sit on a bike for a couple hours and spin! It may not have been a traditional bike layout, but I could live with a reclining bike for a few months. As I sat down I realized something was very seriously wrong with the bike. The seat no longer locked in place, the arm handles didn't turn any more and when I pushed the petals the lose seat threatened to topple over. Clearly this was not safe to use. With my cycling dreams dashed, I stood lost in this "gym" having a somewhat serious emotional breakdown over a broken ten year-old stationary bike. Eventually I spotted the only remotely cardiovascular themed piece of equipment in the "gym"  a Stair Master 3000 from 1995! I gathered what was left of my resolve to work out, stepped up to this machine that was built the year I started kindergarten and said a little prayer for it to work. 

To my great surprise it did! Now, it was no bike ride along PCH, but I did get a good workout of 45 minuets of "stairs" and the endorphin kick I was craving. It's a serious chemical dependency at this point. So from then on, every time I'm in port I always make the pilgrimage to the little "gym" to climb stairs while I stare longingly at the forgotten dream that was a spin workout in Alaska. At this point I'm just thankful I cant get some exercise at all, and that I can continue my commitment to my health and fitness.

FAQs of Alaska

What was your favorite part of the job/trip/experience?

Seeing and learning so many new things! Alaska, despite its hardships, lack of civilization, and general cold-shoulder to newcomers … or maybe because of these things, is truthfully, pretty amazing! Everything is big, unforgiving, and wild. The islands are picturesque snow covered volcano-tops sticking out of the sea, sometimes you can even see them smoking! The wildlife is beautiful, and untamed. And the marine life is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before; for example: wild orcas, albatross, salmon galore,  50+ lb halibut, more Pollock than you can imagine (… no really, Pollock for days), and countless new species to see! I’ve had the privilege of learning an entire new ecosystem and seeing landscapes that most people will never get the opportunity to. I feel pretty lucky to experience this for a living.

What was the most difficult part?



The lifestyle change required of the job was, by far, the most difficult adaptation for me to make. You have to be flexible with pretty much everything including, but not limited to, your living situation, the food you eat, your workout routine, and your assignment location and duration. Staying healthy and content in adverse or difficult circumstances can be a challenge but I am very glad that I made the effort to stay positive and workout when I could or I would have gone crazy!

By the end of a contract we pretty much all look like Mr. Coffee Owl here.

  

Is Sarah Palin correct in that you can actually see Russia from Alaska?

With visibility the way it is here most days, I’m lucky if I can see across the bay. It’s true that the air is SO MUCH cleaner than in LA, but snow, rain and heavy fog (let alone the curvature of the earth!)  make it pretty much impossible to see across the sea. … But some boats in US waters do fish so far west that they are technically east according to their longitude!

Hate to dash your hopes and dreams, but sometimes Sarah Palin doesn’t know what she’s talking about.



Insert SNL Sarah Palin skit video here ((((Here you go http://www.hulu.com/watch/34465)))))

Hot fishermen?

Unfortunately not, but, as any observer here will tell you, some of the helicopter pilots are pretty easy on the eyes. This actually came up over breakfast with my lead the other day when we found out our plant is closing down pretty soon. I said that I would dream that “night” (when I sleep, which is technically day, yay night shift!) about being woken up in the middle of the night to leave Akutan and go home! And he replied. “Yeah I can see it now: ‘ALI WAKE UP! You’ve got to pack before the helicopter pilot flies us out to Dutch to catch a plane to Seattle! And he’s going to do it all without his shirt on!!’”





I know this is a picture of Prince Harry, but its close enough.

 

Would you it again?

Sure! The benefits outweigh the costs for now. Actually, I told my company I would come back this fall sometime. I’m hoping to catch the end of whale season! I’ve heard there’s so many humpbacks in Whale Pass during the summer you can see them on all sides of the boat. Plus that’s when the puffins come to town, and who DOESN’T want to see adorable puffins in real life?



Pretty sure this is an Atlantic Puffin, but he's adorable so I'll let it slide.





When are you coming home?

 Good question! When I finish here in Akutan hopefully they’ll send me to Dutch Harbor, where I’ll wait for a plane to Anchorage and then to Seattle (like everyone else working in the Aleutian islands at the end of fishing season!). This could take days. After I’m in Seattle I have some science work to do, and I will wait for a debriefing appointment with NMFS (my program, the National Marine Fisheries Survey) which could take 1-2 weeks. After that I’m driving home to CALIFORNIA!!!!

My office whiteboard hommage to California.

The succinct answer is sometime in May.





Huntington Beach California - Home, Sweet, Home





The Cold Hard Truth



This is NOT my boat, thankfully. But left unbroken, ice can pile up like this quite easily.


I get a lot of questions about the weather and "exactly how cold is it there?" Honestly, most of the time I don't notice how cold it is anymore. I realized I've been in the cold a very long time when I was walking to the "gym" thinking how it was a nice warm day for once ... and then I stepped in a puddle that was freezing over as I thought about the "warm" day. Sunshine can be deceiving.

That's not to say that I am always warm. It has been quite cold on some days. So I figured I should probably write about what everyone wants to hear, me being miserably cold on the high seas (why else do you keep coming back to this blog?  Morbid curiosity is totally human, I get it) The worst day was in early March. I woke up to an announcement that we we're hauling back (aka we're bringing the trawl net up and dumping the fish into our tanks), so went up to the wheelhouse to moniker the haul. Just FYI for anyone like me, who has no extreme cold experience, your first indicator that its colder than hell frozen over outside is when you can see a thick layer of ice covering every surface on the boat. Меня зовут Али и я люблю лед и снег!

The icicles were pretty cool (cool, haha, get it? Ok back to the story.). It's just as you imagine, there were long, thick blue daggers slanting away from the wind along all the eves of the house. I decided I should probably put on another layer of clothing at the point (thank god I have some common sense). When I stepped on deck to sample my fish I immediately felt the cold hit my face and lungs as a breathed it in. It almost hurt to breath. "Ok, once you get moving, and pushing fish around it will get better, like warming up at the start of a swim!" I told myself. Right?  ... Nope.com Actually the longer you're out there the more your face hurts and the cold starts to seep into your double-gloved hands.

 I got straight to work (well as soon as I broke up the inch layer of ice covering my science gear), which turned out to be a pretty good idea for a couple different reasons. One, the faster I worked the less amount of time I'd have to suffer this frozen nightmare. Two, moving around did keep my core warm and occupied my mind so I couldn't dwell on my discomfort (to put it lightly). And three, I realized as I was sampling, the fish were actually freezing solid to the deck around me! Yay! 

By the time I finished my work I could barely read my writing on my deck sheets, turns out its really difficult to write legibly when you cant feel your fingers! I had fish slime and water frozen to my rain gear. In short, I don't think I've ever been that cold before in my life. Luckily in the coming days the weather lightened up and the heavy freezing spray turned back into snow.

 And that's the cold hard truth of ice on the Bering Sea!















My only ice photo, taken in Akutan





Marooned!

I have news! I am finished on my boat! I have been reassigned to the plant in Akutan as the second observer. Now I stay on land and take salmon genetics for all the boats that offload here. I work nights so this has been an adjustment! I try to keep busy to stay awake, writing for the blog, reading (conditions are never too crappy to read on land!), editing data, and using the internet (the novelty probably won't ever wear off). The highlight of my week has been discovering that pandora radio works up here, (shhhh don't tell the plant)! Adnrew Bird radio is where it's at.

Despite still being in Alaska and not heading home just yet, I am very pleased to start my new chapter as a shore side observer. I got to sleep on a real mattress in MY OWN ROOM THAT WASN’T MOVING last night ... Well today, last day? I don’t know, this days and nights thing is getting really confusing. Regardless, I am looking forward to having a set schedule for a while, going for a run/walk, depending on road conditions, and going to the "gym" before "breakfast" every day. The cafeteria doesn't have the best tasting food, but they have salad most days and apples a lot of the time, so I get to eat healthy! I heard they even serve tacos occasionally, but I’m not holding my breath for good Mexican food just yet. There are always a few options here, as opposed to boat life! I had plain yogurt and granola for dinner this morning!! It was awesome. I’ve never been so excited to see plain yogurt before in my whole life.

I won't lie, I'm also excited that I don’t have to do dishes, laundry or any other chores while I'm here, the plant pretty much covers that. What am I going to do when I go back to real life and I have to do my own laundry and PAY for food?!? People here are really nice to the observers, probably because the plant doesn't function without us, and everyone at the plant has been brainwashed NOT to harass the observers. (Fun Fact: Observers are protected by the marine mammal protection act! Not lying, can’t make this up.) I think I'll be here till the plant closes for the season, which should be soon if rumors are correct, but its fishing so I wouldn't carve that in stone any time soon. So for now, I am marooned on this tiny rock of an island, observing shore side.

This is a shot from about halfway up the mountain lookng over Akutan and the bay.

Sunset On The Bering

My favorite time of day is just before the sun sets on the water. From the deck I can see the golden light that dips below the grey clouds and touches the navy waters to turn them turquoise. The golden-crested swells roll relentlessly as the vessel topples over each one. They play an endless game of hide and seek with the horizon. The sparse rays of dwindling sunlight shine over the moving swells, onto the rails, and through each droplet of water clinging to the net.

Sunset at sea could be anywhere. Without land, boats, or birds I can imagine I’m home, only just out of sight of Catalina, or that I’m visiting far away foreign waters in Asia or Antarctica, or even, that I’m on another planet entirely, with alien creatures lying in wait below the surface. It is familiar and not, it’s exciting and boring, frightening and comforting. It is a blank slate upon which you can only project your own emotions.

In this ever-expanding desert of water, I find comfort in knowing and experiencing an untamed wilderness.


Took this photo out the back of the wheelhouse window a few weeks ago.



Easter on the Crab Dock

Last night I went to sleep just as we were coming into the bay around 3am. I fell asleep looking forward to checking my mail, (FYI getting mail is now kinda the highlight of my life, I've fallen so far from my roots as Land Ali) and hanging out with people that are not the same three people I see every waking moment of everyday on this boat! After mail I'll fax some data, grab a snack and a cup of coffee with the plant observer before heading off to the stair master for a workout! (Land Ali shakes her head in disappointment and walks out the door to hop on her bike for a solid 50 mile ride.)

So I wake up the next morning, and take the stairs up to the wheelhouse to check the weather. Only I don't see the Akutan dock, there is no containers, no happy little community gym or even any dock workers in sight! We are not at the plant dock, oh no, I realize we have been banished to the far side of the the bay and chained to the crab dock. No way to walk to the office, no stair master, no beloved mail ... all I have is a view across the bay of my intended destination ... so close yet so far.

Yes the crab dock is a definite step down from Akutraz (the island prison as the observers call it), which I didn't know was even possible. Boredom has no limits in commercial fishery observation. I mean, we might as well be anchored in the middle of the sea. There's nothing to do off the boat and theres not even the distraction of data collection or bird watching on the boat - well besides the Dutch Harbor pigeons (aka the ever-present dirty scavenger bald eagles).

But, as I continue to find here in Alaska, with every cloud there is a silver lining! Sometimes when the conditions are right, and by "conditions" I mean we're headed to dutch harbor soon, and by "right" I mean we happen to be carrying a bunch of eggs that are about to go rotten, you can have an Easter Egg hunt on the crab dock!

This idea came up one morning, (morning is a relative term here, I think it was closer to 4-5 in the afternoon) when one of my deckhands walked into the galley and said, "You ever seen the foxes?"

Foxes? ... Like real ones?

Yep! They're the largest indigenous mammal on the island. They're pretty cool little guys, somewhere in size between a medium dog and a coyote. They look exactly as you'd expect, red fur, big bushy tails with a white spot on the end and cunning little furry faces. How they originally got here I have no idea, maybe their ancestors were fantastic swimmers?

Shortly before sunset we climbed off our boat with a couple dozen nearly rotten eggs and wandered through the crab pots. We hid our rotten "Easter Eggs" among the driftwood and along the rocky shore where we could see from the wheelhouse. Some of the Dutch Harbor pigeons took advantage of our hospitality but when night came it was the foxes who were calling the shots. They crept down to the shore and, one by one, found and ate every egg as we watched from our boat. I felt like a national geographic host, camped out at night on a remote post to see a rare species ... Ok so they're not that rare, the foxes are more or less as common as raccoons at home, but I didn't care, I got to see them for the first time!

Happy Easter from Alaska!

Yeah, kinda like this... ok no not really. I wish.