Curs­es! I thought this one was sched­uled to pub­lish on August 11, but appar­ent­ly did­n’t quite get it set up right in the flur­ry to leave town. Please put your­self back in time 9 days, friends, and thanks for your patience with in-sea­son difficulties.

Today’s a big day, friends.

Start­ing today, South­east Alaskan trollers get our sec­ond – and last – chance this sea­son to land on the Chi­nook moth­er­lode. Many of you know from pre­vi­ous posts what seri­ous busi­ness these king salmon open­ings are; this August shot at redemp­tion is no different.

As you read this, the Ner­ka will be bob­bing around out there some­where.  Sto­ry-wise, last year’s August 15 open­ing will be hard to top. The weath­er was among the tough­est Cap’n J and I have fished, nasty winds and stacked seas bat­ter­ing South­east. Far­ther up the coast, most of our fish­ing part­ners anchored up by mid-morn­ing, resigned to sit­ting out the first day. Churn­ing seas threw a friend across his cock­pit; he spent the remain­der of the three-day open­ing nurs­ing a cracked rib. Not an easy day, but so very worth it: abun­dant and rav­en­ous, king salmon climbed the gear, grab­bing hooks as soon as we put them back into the water.

I’m hop­ing the seas will be a bit more benign this year.

We enter this open­ing with high hopes, imag­in­ing tri­umphant rejoic­ing on the oth­er side. But there are pret­ty major cel­e­bra­tions here at the start­ing line, too. Today is an impor­tant day for two of my most beloveds, and that’s what I’d real­ly like to share with you.

It’s a relief and a joy when your clos­est friends end up with part­ners that you love, peo­ple you can devel­op your own close­ness with. That’s how I feel about my “broth­er” Marlin’s wife Sara. We got to know each oth­er best while longlin­ing togeth­er on Marlin’s boat, bond­ing through sleep depri­va­tion, sea­sick­ness, and phys­i­cal exhaus­tion. Though she’d nev­er spent time at sea before, Sara quick­ly cement­ed her­self as one of the best peo­ple I’ve crewed with.

At sea or on land, Sara’s one of my favorite peo­ple to spend time with, but I’ve bare­ly seen her over the past two years. She enrolled in an inten­sive nurs­ing pro­gram, com­mit­ting whole­heart­ed­ly to her stud­ies, and today is her grad­u­a­tion. A gift­ed com­mu­ni­ca­tor and one of the most empath­ic, insight­ful, gen­uine peo­ple I know, I can’t think of a more nat­u­ral­ly gift­ed care­giv­er.  Sweet Sis­ter Sara, I’m so very proud of and inspired by you. We’ll be cheer­ing for you from the blue. M’bruk!

And the oth­er cel­e­bra­tion? Today is Cap’n J’s birth­day! Thanks to some par­tic­u­lar­ly serendip­i­tous sched­ul­ing from the Alas­ka Depart­ment of Fish & Game, he’s ush­er­ing in his 30’s while catch­ing king salmon. Far bet­ter than any­thing I could wrap up in paper, the oppor­tu­ni­ty to chase king salmon is pret­ty much the best birth­day present he can imagine.

In last year’s birth­day post, I shared the sto­ry of how we met. I wrote about how proud I am of the cap­tain he’s become. That’s still true. I’m also moved by the evo­lu­tion of our relationship.

Our begin­ning sea­sons were rough. As Joel strug­gled to make the tran­si­tion from care­free deck­hand to liable skip­per, I wres­tled with my own bag­gage around being “the girl­friend” on board. Mis­com­mu­ni­ca­tions and bruised emo­tions were fre­quent in those days; I’ve only recent­ly real­ized how far we’ve come.

When we point­ed the Ner­ka towards Sit­ka last month, on our 15^th day at sea togeth­er, I turned to Joel with sur­prise. “I’m not sick of you yet.”

He smiled back. “I’m not sick of you either! I’m still total­ly in love with you.”

“Dit­to. Pret­ty cool, that we can spend 15 days in our own uni­verse and still feel con­tent and will­ing to continue.”

“I don’t even want to go to town yet,” he said. “If we didn’t have to go in, I could stay out and be per­fect­ly hap­py still.”

For ocean-going folks, that sound­ed like one of the most authen­tic affir­ma­tions of our part­ner­ship. I don’t believe in soul mates, but I def­i­nite­ly believe in my ship­mate. Hap­py birth­day, bud­dy… I’m look­ing for­ward to spend­ing this new decade with you.

Thanks for join­ing me in these cel­e­bra­tions, friends, and bear­ing with this love-fest. We’ve got an unusu­al­ly high quo­ta to catch this open­ing – almost 80,000 kings – so we’ll be out until we can’t wedge anoth­er one into the Ner­ka’s hold. Until next time, best wish­es to you all, and for the fish­er­folks among Hooked’s read­ers, stay safe and good luck out there.

Pho­to by Cap’n J