We haven’t start­ed fish­ing yet, but the good ship Char­i­ty’s cap­tain and crew have offi­cial­ly entered the first sleep deprived delir­i­um of our sea­son. (It won’t be the last.) Just a quick update to let you know that we pulled into Sitka’s Elia­son Har­bor at noon today, and what a day it is… Every Sit­ka home­com­ing is spe­cial, but we could­n’t have asked for any­thing bet­ter than today’s glassy water, blue skies, and beam­ing sun. Feel­ing very blessed and thank­ful, through the sleep dep haze.

The trip north was gen­er­al­ly unevent­ful, just the way we like it. Took a lit­tle longer than I’d pre­dict­ed: we stopped each night in Cana­da for 4 to 5 hours, and had an 11 hour rest before cross­ing Dixon Entrance, wait­ing out 40 to 50 knot wind storm warn­ings. After cross­ing into Alas­ka, we ran day and night to make it here by today, to meet the sec­ond deck­hand fly­ing in and send home the friend who’d made the boat ride up with us. Only two all-nighters, but Mar­tin and I are both zom­bies now, more than ready for a full night’s sleep with the relief of the engines off and the secu­ri­ty of being teth­ered to the dock. The Char­i­ty did a beau­ti­ful job of get­ting us here safe and sound, as she always does.

Tomor­row we’ll bor­row the flatbed truck from the fish plant to start load­ing all of our long­line gear on board, with the hopes of head­ing out on our first hal­ibut trip on Mon­day. There’s a good fore­cast to take advan­tage of, and we’re ready to get to work.  I’m too tired to explain the blissed-out relief and joy I’m feel­ing, so I’ll just let some pho­tos do the sto­ry­telling this time.

Wind­ing our way through Per­il Straits at 5:20 AM, Sitka-bound.

Exit­ing Olga Strait, Sit­ka in sight.

Mt Edge­cumbe super­vis­ing the homecoming.

Home.