7.31.2007
IT'S ALIVE!!!
No photos at this time, but My and I actually got that old Bravo fired up tonight. She ran for a good full minute, idled down, died and wouldn't start up again. It's getting there though. Tomorrow we'll see if it'll run for good. I may have to tear down the carb again. I am open for suggestions, hypothesi (how do you spell the plural of hypothesis), good guesses, etc. We have spark, the fuel is getting to the carb... my only guess is I might have some crud in the bowl.
7.30.2007
Cooling Off at Nani
The adults wanted to cool off from the 70 degree heat, while the kids would've swam regardless of temperatures. Ethan and Romay aren't fitted with wetsuits, but I can tell you that at least Ethan needs an extra layer to keep his teeth from cracking as he chatters. What a gift to have his metabolism! Romay might've stayed warmer from her hand me down water polo cap. ?? Anyways, my teeth look whiter since I got a tan that day....
7.13.2007
Through the mouth, up the river, nothing but net...
Time does not really exist while out at fish camp and I can't really remember how many days we were there. We left on Wednesday and got back... some day after Wednesday.
A friend was nice enough to allow us the use of her 16 foot Lund. So, Myra, Romay, Ethan, Joe, Will, Kemper, and I with all of our camping and fishing stuff, loaded in the boat... for those of you who are math majors out there and are paying attention to the details and picturing how low a small Lund would ride in the water loaded that way, we took two trips to get out to Igluteluk so as not to need the assistance of the Coast Guard (Junie and one of his boys in a slightly larger boat).
Of course, knowing me and how I travel, we did not get out into the bay on time. The boat motor we had fixed the day before began to act up again. Some time and creative language later, Joe had it going and we loaded up for the first trip on a slightly lower tide than originally intended. My and I had always camped either up river or at Ungaluk and so I did not know how lovely the mouth of Igluteluk was. The bay was calm and we made good time coming across until we had to get into the river itself. The Lund turned into a heavy ping pong ball that bounced from shallow mud flat to shallow mud flat and left me, the only sucker with waders, pushing a heavily loaded hull in two feet of water for what seemed like miles.
Finally, into the mouth, we followed the cut bank up a couple of bends to a friend's fish camp where I dropped Joe and Will along with a ton of camping gear to go and pick up My, the kids, and the dog. Two hours of playing on the mud flats by myself and going back to the camp at the mouth for directions from Leo Sr. (just to prove that as a man I am not afraid to ask for directions), and I was out in the bay again headed for Koyuk in a light porposing Lund. Thankfully, I had found myself high and dry on the Koyuk Mudflats four years prior and I knew how to find that channel and in I zoomed to pick up my family who had expected me sometime in the next 45 minutes for the last three hours.
We rode in what had become decent rollers across the bay and thankfully the tide had come in enough to allow for a more forgiving mudflats and we only had to dig a slight trench on our way in. That night involved getting fire wood, casting without any success, and resting my burned out calves and thighs (Suzanne Summer should try out a pair of waders in two feet of water and she could throw out her thigh master).
We set the net, built a fish rack extension for the camp we were borrowing, the kids swam, we pulled a few fish from the net and then got ready to go up river to rod and reel and maybe do a seine. Miles of grass infested channel later, hours of casting, and we had a single white fish landed. There were tons of fish, but no volunteers to bite. Out came the net and a crazy attempt by our small party to get fish into it. I drove and Myra controlled the net in the boat, Joe controlled the beach end, Will and Romay tried scaring fish into the net by throwing rocks into the river. Ethan had more than his hands full with holding Kemper, whose only purpose in life while at camp is to be in the boat while I am, and was doing okay with it until one of the kids threw a stick in the river instead of a rock... I swear Ethan flew eight feet in the air off of the high bank and then skipped ten feet across the beach before letting go of a stick, boat crazed dog who then swam out and crawled in. We made it to shore and Myra exploded into the shallows to close the trap prior to the exodus of the fish, lost her sandle in three feet of muck... and we still ended up with no fish in the net.
Discouraged and hungry we headed for camp with our one white fish. The buoys were starting to go down on the set net and we made plans to check it after breakfast the next day. Tide came in along with all of the chum salmon in the bay and the next morning left us with more buoys down than floating. Joe and will set to emptying the net while Myra and began cutting... an eternity later (remember time does not exist at fish camp) and we had 120 fish, mostly chums hanging. Needless to say, we pulled the net. We ate, the kids swam, and the adults colapsed. Who knows how long we were out there after that? The fish were being smoked and we were resting for the ride home.
God blessed us with a ton of fish, and somehow helped me shoot through the mudflats three times that day as I ferried people, equipment and fish home. Two days of canning and you can see some of the results in the picture above. We won't be setting another net for at least a year and I have no need to see another canning jar for at least that long. All our fishing for the rest of the summer will be with rod and will result in filets (God willing) action packed and in the freezer.
A friend was nice enough to allow us the use of her 16 foot Lund. So, Myra, Romay, Ethan, Joe, Will, Kemper, and I with all of our camping and fishing stuff, loaded in the boat... for those of you who are math majors out there and are paying attention to the details and picturing how low a small Lund would ride in the water loaded that way, we took two trips to get out to Igluteluk so as not to need the assistance of the Coast Guard (Junie and one of his boys in a slightly larger boat).
Of course, knowing me and how I travel, we did not get out into the bay on time. The boat motor we had fixed the day before began to act up again. Some time and creative language later, Joe had it going and we loaded up for the first trip on a slightly lower tide than originally intended. My and I had always camped either up river or at Ungaluk and so I did not know how lovely the mouth of Igluteluk was. The bay was calm and we made good time coming across until we had to get into the river itself. The Lund turned into a heavy ping pong ball that bounced from shallow mud flat to shallow mud flat and left me, the only sucker with waders, pushing a heavily loaded hull in two feet of water for what seemed like miles.
Finally, into the mouth, we followed the cut bank up a couple of bends to a friend's fish camp where I dropped Joe and Will along with a ton of camping gear to go and pick up My, the kids, and the dog. Two hours of playing on the mud flats by myself and going back to the camp at the mouth for directions from Leo Sr. (just to prove that as a man I am not afraid to ask for directions), and I was out in the bay again headed for Koyuk in a light porposing Lund. Thankfully, I had found myself high and dry on the Koyuk Mudflats four years prior and I knew how to find that channel and in I zoomed to pick up my family who had expected me sometime in the next 45 minutes for the last three hours.
We rode in what had become decent rollers across the bay and thankfully the tide had come in enough to allow for a more forgiving mudflats and we only had to dig a slight trench on our way in. That night involved getting fire wood, casting without any success, and resting my burned out calves and thighs (Suzanne Summer should try out a pair of waders in two feet of water and she could throw out her thigh master).
We set the net, built a fish rack extension for the camp we were borrowing, the kids swam, we pulled a few fish from the net and then got ready to go up river to rod and reel and maybe do a seine. Miles of grass infested channel later, hours of casting, and we had a single white fish landed. There were tons of fish, but no volunteers to bite. Out came the net and a crazy attempt by our small party to get fish into it. I drove and Myra controlled the net in the boat, Joe controlled the beach end, Will and Romay tried scaring fish into the net by throwing rocks into the river. Ethan had more than his hands full with holding Kemper, whose only purpose in life while at camp is to be in the boat while I am, and was doing okay with it until one of the kids threw a stick in the river instead of a rock... I swear Ethan flew eight feet in the air off of the high bank and then skipped ten feet across the beach before letting go of a stick, boat crazed dog who then swam out and crawled in. We made it to shore and Myra exploded into the shallows to close the trap prior to the exodus of the fish, lost her sandle in three feet of muck... and we still ended up with no fish in the net.
Discouraged and hungry we headed for camp with our one white fish. The buoys were starting to go down on the set net and we made plans to check it after breakfast the next day. Tide came in along with all of the chum salmon in the bay and the next morning left us with more buoys down than floating. Joe and will set to emptying the net while Myra and began cutting... an eternity later (remember time does not exist at fish camp) and we had 120 fish, mostly chums hanging. Needless to say, we pulled the net. We ate, the kids swam, and the adults colapsed. Who knows how long we were out there after that? The fish were being smoked and we were resting for the ride home.
God blessed us with a ton of fish, and somehow helped me shoot through the mudflats three times that day as I ferried people, equipment and fish home. Two days of canning and you can see some of the results in the picture above. We won't be setting another net for at least a year and I have no need to see another canning jar for at least that long. All our fishing for the rest of the summer will be with rod and will result in filets (God willing) action packed and in the freezer.
6.13.2007
...Your husband should at least find you handy
Perhaps you can recognize the quote with my modifications, the picture serves as evidence of my labor yesterday. (Wait, Romay gets credit too for drawing straight lines with the T-square, as well as holding the wood in place as I sawed with the skill saw.) We had two options for placing bookshelves in our already book infested room, do it the "easy" way with target.com OR just make 'em youself. Option 2 seemed like more fun and much more hands on, while option 1 seemed too much like the easy way out. Afterall, I hadn't taken the carpentry class in 2001 for nothing (I was much more book smart in the class, compared to the hands on part of the class--go figure). So, we ordered some Pine from SBS in Nome, did some cutting and pounding in the shop, and placed brackets around the shelf so the kids wouldn't knock it over. Our poor kids get blamed for that kind of thing now, Jay is the next clumsy one to blame if there's an accident. All in all, there's tons of work to do in KKA, just come on over and we'll start you on a project....on the other hand, that is also a reason to avoid coming over. I'll update you with Jay's greenhouse project for a friend of ours. Gratefully, the kids also haven't grown weary of holding things in place, or fetching tools, good little helpers, no wonder they sleep in a little now a days.
6.09.2007
Where's Romay??
Leona. First, it seems like we're sitting down to eat and miraculously, there's a knock on the door. The kids start yelling, "door's open!", Kemper starts barking and sprinting full speed, even if he knocks Jay over on the way, and the parents are trying to scramble to beat the dog to the door before the guest does so. If we're really lucky, the phone would have been ringing as this fiasco is going on.
"Oh Hi Leona," Romay greets in a light hearted voice.
Without hesitation, "Where's Romay?" Leona distantly responds. "Wait a minute, I think, does she always say this as she is looking right at Romay?" This routine has become somewhat normal now, when we know Leona is making her way over, often the kids and I will hide our smiles as we know the steps Leona will take....knock knock (woof woof goes Kemper), COME IN, hi Leona someone says, WHERE'S ROMAY? I think we'll get T-shirts with Leona's face on the front and the back will say, "where's Romay?"
I just wanted to share this story with "you" since a character like Leona makes our day. It's no surprise when she has us all laughing about her singing, or MILLIONS of questions too obvious for common sense, or her squeezing in between people on the couch to better see the TV. Here's a picture of us three girls, Leona let Romay squeeze in the middle.
6.01.2007
Things that go bump in the night
Myra and I are now officially on summer schedule... though it is the first summer schedule that we have had to figure kids into. Thankfully, that means we all go to bed a little earlier and get up for that first sip of coffee and chapter of a book a little earlier.
Why am I up then? The thing that goes bump in the night in my experience since having kids is Romay. I read the kids to sleep, but a scary dream had my little girl up again. She generally wakes pretty disoriented from them and wanders aimlessly through the house, making it easy for me to hear that help is needed. Getting her back to sleep is an experience that calms both her and me... though I can't seem to fall to sleep now.
Lots of little things are happening right now. Myra and I just got back from Unalakleet where we helped the district solve the world's problems one curriculum standard at a time. It really is nice to have a say into what we will be teaching next year, but five days (including a Sunday and Memorial Day) were too many just after school got out to be fixing typos in district wide tests and planning curriculum.
The highlight of the whole thing had nothing to do with teaching kids anything, though My and I were as excited as kids as we climbed into the cockpit of our friend's Cessna 172 for the first time. He offered to teach us to fly, a dream of Myra's and mine since we were little, and we jumped at the opportunity. Jeni (the caribou castrator) went up with us for our first flight and though she survived the takeoffs and landings of two rookie pilots, failed to hold down her dinner as I made my first attempt at flying about a point (360s around a ground object). The ziplock bag really is one of man's greatest inventions... at least the cooks put out fresh cheese cake for us upon our return to help fill in the gap that was made through Jen's new Cessna diet.
Today was a great day in the shop as the Myra, the kids and I took a stab at the first official project of the summer. Cramming four people into our little two-bedroom apartment is an interesting challenge and so we built some new book shelves today to help with our storage problems. Like any good bush Alaskans, we scrounged for wood and built them ourselves. All said, I think it cost us about five dollars to build them... they are much more strongly built than "the sled" from this winter. Myra made the observation that she had never seen any kids as excited as ours to get a book shelf for their room. They spent the afternoon arranging books and "prized" possesions carefully on the different levels.
Hope this blog finds you all doing well.
Why am I up then? The thing that goes bump in the night in my experience since having kids is Romay. I read the kids to sleep, but a scary dream had my little girl up again. She generally wakes pretty disoriented from them and wanders aimlessly through the house, making it easy for me to hear that help is needed. Getting her back to sleep is an experience that calms both her and me... though I can't seem to fall to sleep now.
Lots of little things are happening right now. Myra and I just got back from Unalakleet where we helped the district solve the world's problems one curriculum standard at a time. It really is nice to have a say into what we will be teaching next year, but five days (including a Sunday and Memorial Day) were too many just after school got out to be fixing typos in district wide tests and planning curriculum.
The highlight of the whole thing had nothing to do with teaching kids anything, though My and I were as excited as kids as we climbed into the cockpit of our friend's Cessna 172 for the first time. He offered to teach us to fly, a dream of Myra's and mine since we were little, and we jumped at the opportunity. Jeni (the caribou castrator) went up with us for our first flight and though she survived the takeoffs and landings of two rookie pilots, failed to hold down her dinner as I made my first attempt at flying about a point (360s around a ground object). The ziplock bag really is one of man's greatest inventions... at least the cooks put out fresh cheese cake for us upon our return to help fill in the gap that was made through Jen's new Cessna diet.
Today was a great day in the shop as the Myra, the kids and I took a stab at the first official project of the summer. Cramming four people into our little two-bedroom apartment is an interesting challenge and so we built some new book shelves today to help with our storage problems. Like any good bush Alaskans, we scrounged for wood and built them ourselves. All said, I think it cost us about five dollars to build them... they are much more strongly built than "the sled" from this winter. Myra made the observation that she had never seen any kids as excited as ours to get a book shelf for their room. They spent the afternoon arranging books and "prized" possesions carefully on the different levels.
Hope this blog finds you all doing well.
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