breausaw
New member
- Joined
- Jan 18, 2006
- Messages
- 1,222
- Reaction score
- 0
- C Dory Year
- 2007
- C Dory Model
- 25 Cruiser
- Vessel Name
- Triple J
As mentioned before I fished out in the Gulf of Alaska, these where in the days of the 24hr Halibut derbies; you had 24hr to set as much gear as you could muster, retrieve it, and catch as much halibut as your vessel could hold. This was back in the late 80s; I fished them all for a couple of years; 4 or 5 a season. All you needed was a commercial fishing license and a boat with long line gear. Unfortunately, do to the nature of the fisheries too many boats never returned to port. Overloading, bad weather, greed, poor judgment combined to form a deadly brew. These fisheries are no longer in effect for obvious safety reasons and to allow better management of the resource. Individual Fishing Quotas (IFQs) were given to boats based on their fishing history allowing the owners of the IFQs to fish whenever they wanted within an extended period of time
I was engineer on the 66 foot Lodestar, a converted single screw rear cabin navy T boat. She had full head with birthing for 4 in the focsal, full head and births for 4 off the main cabin, and a small skipper birth off the wheel house.
With a crew of 6 including the skipper we were fishing one of these 24hr derbies in Mid November about 75 miles east of Kodiak Island along the continental shelf in the Gulf of Alaska. We fished with tub gear, each tub had a 100 fathom shot with hooks spaced about 10 feet apart, I believe we carried about 75 tubs. The tubs were baited in advance and tied together in sets of 15 to 20. When the clock hit 0600 we started setting gear over the stern with the tubs lined up down the starboard rail; this in itself was a dangerous task.
We all had sheathed and file sharpened knifes duck taped to the outside of our slickers, ready to cut line if someone or ones self became entangled during the set, or any time.
We ended up having a successful trip with loads of 100lb+ halibut coming over the side; we set on the females. Buy the time the clock came around to 0600 we had close to 46000 lbs on board, and the seas were starting to build. Everyone was exhausted and just wanted to hit the rack, but we needed to secure the deck. I strongly suggested be stow all the tub gear behind the wheel house above the main cabin, but the skipper overruled.
Three crewmen eventually crashed in the focsal and one in the main cabin. The skipper stayed watch while I tended to the refrigeration cold brine system. The Lodestar wasn’t certified to tank down so we used a salt saturated cold brine that continuously rained down on the holds contents, capable of freezing the fish if not carefully monitored.
After I was confident the refrigeration system was stabilized I went to relive the skipper. The seas were continuing to build in the 10 to 15 foot range but genital and nicely spaced. As we neared land and headed north toward the port of Kodiak, the waves became confused and steep. Waves where crashing over the bow now and the deck was slow to clear. I woke the skipper and strongly suggested now would be a good time to move that tub gear off the deck, they were holding to much water and the deck was slow to clear. About that time we took a tremendous wave over the bow, and the entire forward deck went under water. As we looked the deck slowly cleared through the scuppers but seemed to have a difficult time recovering completely.
The skipper took the wheel and turned us around as I bolted from the wheel house to wake the crew and move the tub gear to the stern. As I reached to bottom of the stairs the crewman in the main cabin woke to see what was going on, I told him we needed to get that tub gear off the deck NOW! When I reached to focsal there was still about 6 inches of water up the hatch, so when the hatch opened water splashed down within. Everyone below was totally oblivious to our situation, but when 20 gallons of sea water came crashing down it got there attention. In addition, when the water hit their boom box sparks flew and it issued an amplified screech.
With adrenalin pumping we started a chain gang and quickly moved all the tub gear up behind the wheel house and lashed it down. I was the only one with a slicker, the rest of the crew had there sleep clothes on so they were soaked and chilled to the bone by the time we were through.
The skipper had turned us around to put the bow in the lee, but the waves where coming from every quadrant now. We gathered in the wheelhouse as the skipper turned use back on course. The waves were even worse approaching wheelhouse height; at least the deck was clearing itself faster now.
We gathered in the main cabin and started putting on our survival suits; some needed the zippers waxed just to get them closed. There was one other problem, we were one suit short. This was the fist trip with 5 crew and no one had taken the time to insure we had enough survival suits onboard. Once your in one of these things your pretty much useless, so after we were confident the suits functions properly and everyone was proficient at getting one on we set them aside.
Back in the wheelhouse things were much the same but not worse. Waves were still crashing over the bow with occasional green water obscuring the wheelhouse windows. Over time the weather calmed and the seas settled as we neared port. As we tied up to the dock our greenhorn climbed the dock and kissed the ground, we all felt that urge.
After the boat was unloaded we hit the Kodiak bars and toasted to hour good fortune, it had been our most profitable trip ever; we also knew how close we’d come to making it our last.
I can tell you this: When you’re standing on deck in a survival suit staring out at boiling green water and contemplating using the suit for its intended purpose, it’s a heart pumping scary experience; one that will stay with you a long time. We got paid for putting ourselves in harms way, it was a way of life.
I now draw on those experience as I adapt and learn with every trip we take on our little c-dory, it’s a welcome change.
Wishing you all a Happy and Prosperous New Year
Jay
I was engineer on the 66 foot Lodestar, a converted single screw rear cabin navy T boat. She had full head with birthing for 4 in the focsal, full head and births for 4 off the main cabin, and a small skipper birth off the wheel house.
With a crew of 6 including the skipper we were fishing one of these 24hr derbies in Mid November about 75 miles east of Kodiak Island along the continental shelf in the Gulf of Alaska. We fished with tub gear, each tub had a 100 fathom shot with hooks spaced about 10 feet apart, I believe we carried about 75 tubs. The tubs were baited in advance and tied together in sets of 15 to 20. When the clock hit 0600 we started setting gear over the stern with the tubs lined up down the starboard rail; this in itself was a dangerous task.
We all had sheathed and file sharpened knifes duck taped to the outside of our slickers, ready to cut line if someone or ones self became entangled during the set, or any time.
We ended up having a successful trip with loads of 100lb+ halibut coming over the side; we set on the females. Buy the time the clock came around to 0600 we had close to 46000 lbs on board, and the seas were starting to build. Everyone was exhausted and just wanted to hit the rack, but we needed to secure the deck. I strongly suggested be stow all the tub gear behind the wheel house above the main cabin, but the skipper overruled.
Three crewmen eventually crashed in the focsal and one in the main cabin. The skipper stayed watch while I tended to the refrigeration cold brine system. The Lodestar wasn’t certified to tank down so we used a salt saturated cold brine that continuously rained down on the holds contents, capable of freezing the fish if not carefully monitored.
After I was confident the refrigeration system was stabilized I went to relive the skipper. The seas were continuing to build in the 10 to 15 foot range but genital and nicely spaced. As we neared land and headed north toward the port of Kodiak, the waves became confused and steep. Waves where crashing over the bow now and the deck was slow to clear. I woke the skipper and strongly suggested now would be a good time to move that tub gear off the deck, they were holding to much water and the deck was slow to clear. About that time we took a tremendous wave over the bow, and the entire forward deck went under water. As we looked the deck slowly cleared through the scuppers but seemed to have a difficult time recovering completely.
The skipper took the wheel and turned us around as I bolted from the wheel house to wake the crew and move the tub gear to the stern. As I reached to bottom of the stairs the crewman in the main cabin woke to see what was going on, I told him we needed to get that tub gear off the deck NOW! When I reached to focsal there was still about 6 inches of water up the hatch, so when the hatch opened water splashed down within. Everyone below was totally oblivious to our situation, but when 20 gallons of sea water came crashing down it got there attention. In addition, when the water hit their boom box sparks flew and it issued an amplified screech.
With adrenalin pumping we started a chain gang and quickly moved all the tub gear up behind the wheel house and lashed it down. I was the only one with a slicker, the rest of the crew had there sleep clothes on so they were soaked and chilled to the bone by the time we were through.
The skipper had turned us around to put the bow in the lee, but the waves where coming from every quadrant now. We gathered in the wheelhouse as the skipper turned use back on course. The waves were even worse approaching wheelhouse height; at least the deck was clearing itself faster now.
We gathered in the main cabin and started putting on our survival suits; some needed the zippers waxed just to get them closed. There was one other problem, we were one suit short. This was the fist trip with 5 crew and no one had taken the time to insure we had enough survival suits onboard. Once your in one of these things your pretty much useless, so after we were confident the suits functions properly and everyone was proficient at getting one on we set them aside.
Back in the wheelhouse things were much the same but not worse. Waves were still crashing over the bow with occasional green water obscuring the wheelhouse windows. Over time the weather calmed and the seas settled as we neared port. As we tied up to the dock our greenhorn climbed the dock and kissed the ground, we all felt that urge.
After the boat was unloaded we hit the Kodiak bars and toasted to hour good fortune, it had been our most profitable trip ever; we also knew how close we’d come to making it our last.
I can tell you this: When you’re standing on deck in a survival suit staring out at boiling green water and contemplating using the suit for its intended purpose, it’s a heart pumping scary experience; one that will stay with you a long time. We got paid for putting ourselves in harms way, it was a way of life.
I now draw on those experience as I adapt and learn with every trip we take on our little c-dory, it’s a welcome change.
Wishing you all a Happy and Prosperous New Year
Jay
