Alaska!

yikes

2006-08-29T09:54:00.000-07:00

I've finally arrived to a madhouse most people call Oklahoma. There is definitely culture shock. Driving in the bustling streets of Tulsa yesterday made me want to scream at the top of my lungs,

"Why don't you people go to Alaska!?"

But, I refrained from doing so. I wouldn't want to do that to Alaska.

As one can imagine, things seem much different than what I left from before. My brother thinks I've turned into a hippie. I shave though. There is no waving/smiling to the other car coming your way, there are religious stations on the radio rather than a scratchy npr, and sadly enough, there are no bears. All I have to worry about running into here is a skunk.

I've avoided fast food and television for the most part (minus watching the U.S. Open [tennis]). I've gotten a hair cut and immunizations for yellow fever and typhoid. I'm getting things done... keeping myself busy... breathing in the humidity and heat. Hm.

What is super duper nice is to see family again. Tomorrow is a birthday party at the grandparents house. If any of your grandparents are like mine, you'd be super stoked to get ice cream and cake too, with a "don't they feed you!?" attitude.

So yes, Oklahoma is a wonderful, beautiful place, but what I've learned again is that it is certainly not for me (in a good way).

Here are the pitchers:

http://melindawebster.com/alaska06

http://melindawebster.com/crazies

T-minus 10 days, plus Rain = 50 months^2.

2006-08-16T10:51:00.000-07:00

I am almost certain it won't be sunny during my last 10 days here, but that's not horrible news to me. I'm soaking it up for what it's worth before I head back to the fiery lower 48. Ew.

Many people have already left to go back to college, grad school, jobs, etc. and it feels more like an epidemic where everyone's dropping like flies. We are the sad, loyal survivors and even at that, I'm still leaving this position a month early. Kudos to those Power Rangers, Captains, and Deckhands that remain strong!

Anyhoo, I've had time to think about how I should spend my last week in Alaska. I've come up with this brilliant plan: go to the local music night one last *sniffle* time and be a dancing fool, go up bay on the Baranof Wind to snap pics, fly to Dry Bay, play in the mud and find some interglacial stumps, go to two presentations given by geniuses, get evaluated on my last cruise ship day (not my choice but funny), go for a day paddle, eat crab/fish while it's fresh, get Homeshore Pizza which is the absolute tastiest pizza on this planet (Mars has better), take a picture of a porcupine, salsa with anybody willing, play in the rain, bicycle into "town," go to the lodge, and most importantly, bug everyone I see before I go.

The toughest part about this last week is accepting whether or not I'll be back next season. It's still undetermined and that's perfectly fine with me. Probably the two of the million things I'll miss the most are food and of course, the people (but not necessarily in that order).

Second reoccurring thoughts are "How much culture shock will there be when I get home?" I don't think I could handle Walmart just yet. Walmart holds more people than the town of Gustavus I think? Turning on a television seems like the strangest thing though my computer plays dvds just fine. No ocean? In Oklahoma? Mail can get sent/received in less than a week? I can get food immediately? Through a drive-through? Gross.

I'm not so sure if these "luxuries" are worth the "seclusion" of Alaska. Certainly there are things to look forward to, like driving a car and being able to swim in water without the danger of hypothermia. I'll have to weigh these matters out when I get to my temporary home.

chase the whales

2006-08-12T11:36:00.000-07:00

Yep, I'm still here.

I have exactly two weeks left in this beautiful state before I run off to my next strange adventure. But what the heck have I been doing to be a slacker on this sweet, little blog of mine? Uhh, work. Late July and early August are supremo times for all the rangers' "sweeties" and "hunies" to visit them, which also means doing your "I. O. U.s" by working on their cruise ship days. Somedays, I truly believe I've got cruise ship loathing down to a perfection, but it's actually been pretty fun lately. Maybe because I'm escaping soon?

One very cool thing I was lucky to do: go out with one of the whale biologists in the park.

Ms. Whale Biologist and I ended up having one of the neatest days with humpback whales. The day started out with a thickening fog filling the bay. Our visibility was less than 50 feet. We went to Point Carolus in search for these infamous whales* I've been hearing about.

*This season has been unusually wetter and colder so most of the humpbacks have been in the Icy Strait area where their main food source is. Typically, there are about 50 whales in the bay each summer. The bay has about 15 this season so far. Cruise ship passengers do not like to hear this.

We hung out for about an hour, debating on whether or not we should move somewhere else since we couldn't see a darn thing. The frustrating part for Ms. Whale Biologist was that these whales were right next to us, literally. Their blows were so loud that it made me jump. They wheezed a lot too. I heard a "smacking" sounds in the distance. Whales were breaching all around us...

We still couldn't see anything from the fog until four whales swam right in front of our boat, probably about 20 feet away and that was pretty surprising.

We ended up moving to Icy Strait and good grief, we had whales galor! We spotted over 15 on separate occasions. My very favourite was this bratty calf. It caught us by surprise when it breached right next to our vessel. We saw its mother moving along, doing all these normal whales things like breathing and swimming.

The calf, however, was now spinning around in a bed of kelp. Really. It kept spinning around, sometimes stopping on its back and flapping its pectoral fins into the air. Then we saw the calf's tail come out of the water, then its back, then its head. It was swimming backwards! The calf continued being a weirdo for about 20 minutes, definitely being the funniest thing I've ever seen a whale do. Ms. Whale Biologist had never seen anything like that before either.

After a busy week with cruise ships, whales, and images, I am definitely ready to sleep.

survive: to remain alive or in existence.

2006-07-24T12:53:00.000-07:00

Hallelujah!

The trip... was... wonderful! And now I sit at my desk, floating on the fact that I didn't get eaten by a bear.

So the trip, it lasted five nights, six days (of sun I might add), a rough estimate of 65ish miles was covered in a double expedition kayak from Blue Mouse Cove to Chocolate Falls in Johns Hopkins Inlet. Once I get smart, I'll figure out how to post our route when I get to Okieland.

The first five questions I received when I got back to rural, Alaskan civilization:
#1 Did you have fun? Yes, certainly.
#2 Did you see any bears? Yes, and very close too.
#3 Did you have good weather? Yep, typically my face isn't a lobster, fire-engine red.
#4 What did you see? Brown bears, harbour seals, bald eagles, icebergs, loons, cormorants, waterfalls, orcas, boats, mountains, Joe & Muz Ibach's Cabin, glaciers, and cruise ships.
#5 Where did you go? Johns Hopkins Glacier and back.

After telling this story approximately 8,824,246 times, I think I'll finally post it.

The beginning of our day was early and we had lousy weather. We rode on the Baranof Wind (day boat), touring the park ungracefully and seeing 10 bears throughout the day, which broke the bear sighting records for the summer. A perfect thing for newbie brown bear country kayakers to see before they get dropped into the danger zone...

At 2 p.m., we were officially dropped! By this time, I was extremely nervous. I was already looking over my shoulder to see huge, pointy teeth coming down on my little head. We loaded our kayak, which we named "The Cob" for it's lovely yellow colour, and pushed off into the somewhat unknown.

Not even 25 minutes later, we see two brown bears wrestling on their hind legs on the shoreline to our right. They... were... big. And of course, that made us just perfectly paranoid for our first night of camping.

[will insert picture one month from now]

The next day we awoke pretty darn early in order to make it through "the cut" on a high tide (this is a narrow passage that requires about 13ish feet to paddle through, very cool place, and a very nice buffet for bears during low tide). We had no troubles going through and made it out in about 30 min. making our way to a rocky point for a break and brunch.

Now this point looked like a sly location: Steep, rocky cliffs in the back and front, basically a perfect safe haven from bears. We were proud.

We laid about for three hours waiting for the tide to turn, eating oatmeal and nuts, and making fun of cruise ships digging through the bay. Eventually we stopped eating and decided to continue our virtuous paddle. We loaded The Cob, threw a few peanuts at each other, and pushed off.

I have a graceful manner of slipping right in a kayak without much trouble. The spray skirt, however, is more annoying than repetitive country music.

While I'm thrashing around with my skirt, my kayaking buddy says slowly, "Uh... you might want to start paddling.... Right. Now."

me: *thrash thrash, thrash thrash* "Huh? Why?"

I looked up and saw this massive brown bear swimming nearly 20 feet away from our Cob.

I freeze and look at this monstrous bear. Then I curse more than I ever have in my entire life and probably the quietest I ever have in my entire life too.

[insert photo in a month]

The monster bear cooly swam to our rocky cliff and simply walked up it, fur slicked down from the water and muscles rippling with each step. I've never see anything remotely close to this thing. Pure muscle and fat, a belly that could probably fit three or four of me in it. White claws longer than four inches possibly. (I'm horrible at estimating things like this). Sharp and dangerous, nonetheless.

It was HUGE!

The bear moved along surprisingly quick, not really caring that we were so nearby. In fact, I think it glanced at us with a "you-got-nothing!" type look. What scared us the most was the fact that had we been a minute later, this thing would've ran straight into us on our clever rock where there was no room to move out of its way.

We were lucky? I don't believe that bears are ruthless killers or anything of that sort, but I certainly have a whole lot of respect for them. I also believe that bears really don't care about you as long as you're not dangling a piece of chicken in front of their face or blocking their path.

During the last day of our trip, we were feeling a bit more relaxed and comfortable in bear country. We hadn't run into any bears since the massive bear on our non-clever rock spot. We thought that it'd be kinda funny if we saw one where we were about to get picked up by the day boat.

Well... yea of course we're going to see one after saying such a stupid thing like that! We were unloading our Cob and stuffing everything in plastic bags for our pick-up when I heard a snap.

My kayak buddy didn't hear it but I wanted to be humored and stuffed all our snacks in a bear canister. I asked him hypothetically what he'd like to do in case a bear DID come up just for fun. We both agreed that we'd stick by our gear and defend it like we had been told to do.

Then the kayak buddy said something along the lines of, "[edit] there it is!"
And here comes this, no surprise, large brown bear out of the woods walking right by us. Geez it was big.

What did we do? We both scooted back quite a bit, the kayak buddy grabbed a flare for just in case, and I went into the water, filling my boots and getting ready to push off in an escape.

Again, the bear couldn't have cared less about us and meandered away. As for not defending our gear (and as long as all food is in a bear canister), I'd like to think that we have a nice self-preservation buttons that work.

lean. mean. scanning machine.

2006-07-11T08:04:00.000-07:00

Oh good grief, it's only 7 a.m.

The only slow days I have at work are office days, where I perch in a chair for approximately 10 hours scanning slides from the 60s and 70s. It really isn't all that bad, especially seeing a million photos from other photographers, but I do get pretty dang antsy when it's sunny outside.

Anyhoo, things are going extremely well. I doubled my workload for the past two weeks to sort out my weekends where I have precisely six days off to go on an "up bay trip."

Up bay: it is phenomenal.

In order to go camping and kayaking like yours truly, you have to get dropped off by a small tour vessel, which is pretty cool because they usually give out tasty cookies on board.

I have been planning this "extreme" camping trip all summer now, and it all begins on Friday, approximately 7 a.m. I have 72 hours...!

So I'm excited... and fairly terrified too. After conquering my monster fear of public speaking, it seems that I've developed a huge fear of bears now. Not black bears, but brown. And for your information, brown bears and grizzly bears ARE the same species, but brown bears are coastal bears and they tend to be larger in size because of their protein-rich diet.

Enough ranger jabber. Yeah, brown bears seem terrifying. I'll be up in brown bear country for nearly six days. We're going to a place called John Hopkins Inlet, which is home to 3-4ish tidewater glaciers, an "unbelievable" experience so I'm told, but a bit treacherous if you get tides wrong/get run over by a cruise ship.

I plan on bringing two GPSs I don't know how to use yet, a PLB (location beacon thingy), bear spray, food, camera, tent, bear canister, sleeping bag, kayak, and a fool I can outrun, or at least trip.

Probably the best advice I've gotten for this trip was from my dear senile father who said, "just put food in someone else's tent and you should be fine!"

Not a bad idea. People generally keep their food, along with food-smelly items such as toothpaste, chapstick, etc, in bear canisters at a good distance away from their campsite. I'll probably keep mine at a football field's length away.

Another possibly interesting experience: I am doing this trip in a double kayak. People call these kayaks the "divorce kayaks" for reasons you can imagine. The poor fool going with me has no clue how hilarious this is going to be (to me).
[Notice: fool]

Welp, time to scan! If I get eaten by a whale, I love each and every one of you. Kinda.

Alive and Well

2006-07-01T14:53:00.000-07:00

I apologize for the slack of blogging. Let's continue...

Today I must describe probably the most mortifying experience of my life: The First Program.

When I first arrived to Park Headquarters, I realized that my First Program would be my only enemy here. I overlooked the filthy thing nonetheless, determined to soak up Alaska during my first few innocent days here. As the days began to pass, the First Program began to sneak more and more into my life, occupying the precious time spent soaking up Alaskan weather and culture. Before I knew it, time and the First Program were best friends, filling me with grief of knowing that soon, I would have to stand before an audience of 900 people.

Ack.

I slept very little during the week of my first program, so it wasn't very surprising that I passed out the night before the big day. I quadruple-checked everything in my bag the night before: program (check), script (check), self-esteem (check). I might be ready?

I awoke at 4 very refreshed, yet wary.

"Was today going to be the day that I wet myself in front of 900 people?" I looked in the mirror.

Once we got on board the cruise ship, I continued the routine of spunky ranger who could teach anyone about the goods of Glacier Bay. I still didn't know a whole lot by then, so I really had to work on my spunkiness to make up for it.

Then 12:30 came: Lunch.
Then 1:00 came: Crap. I had to find to the Princess Theatre. I was lost for 15 minutes.

When I found the theatre, there were already people waiting for the program. I saw the lighting guy, who obviously was dying from an overdose of tourists. Poor fellow, I wanted to sympathize. I tried to muster out a "Hi, I'm freaked out because I've never talked to a group of people before" but all I said was hello, lights, yep, thanks.

T-minus 10 minutes until I face my worst fear. Wow, that sucks. Wait, no. Go Melinda. Yeah.

I was told to walk around and talk with people beforehand to ease my nerves. Not a bad idea, so I tried it but conversations were strange for this terrified, little ranger. I think they could sense my fear, kind of like lions and tigers do.

5 minutes to go so I shakenly moved my feet towards the direction of the stage. It was funny to see what was probably 900 people watching me, like I had some idea of what I was doing when in reality, I was planning my escape. Crew members only door, port side, sprint, jump, left turn, sprint, dive overboard.

I grabbed the microphone and turned it on, while eyeing the door.

The next 30 minutes went as follows...

Welcome...
[editted]

I tried to say phenomenal... for about 5 minutes. It never worked out. Did I mention that the program was put on the cruise ship tv and radio?

[editted]

Good thing I had went to the bathroom before this.

[editted]

... Thank you.

Afterwards, my face was on fire and I wanted to jump under one of the seats in the auditorium. A few people came up to me. Oh crap. I turned around in a flashy paranoia style.

They asked about the whales, which I had covered in the beginning. I carefully told them each detail, as if they were spies out to get me. Then they walked off and I waited. I wanted to leave until I wouldn't run into anyone from the audience. Then, I naturally bolted for the door.

About 50 minutes later, I was standing outside of the Serac with the wind blowing my hair and feeling the entire shock of the First Program. The other rangers were worried and even did funny little jigs to comfort my weirdness. All I wanted was a hole, of course.

One of the rangers told me T-minus 45 minutes. What?

I'd forgotten I was volunteering with researchers that night. After bailing from the Serac, I raced home to pack, and boarded The Capelin not a minute too late. We made our way up Glacier Bay to a beautiful location called Russell Island. The sun was setting.

There, I laughed. And then I slept.

Power Rangers and Pirates

2006-06-16T13:03:00.000-07:00

I would like to discuss the play-by-play action of boarding a cruise ship.

It can be a terrifying process, depending on how you think or whether or not you think at all. My brain typically doesn't function until about 9 a.m. so I'm never really worried. I usually wake up at 4 a.m. to begin my work day of going on an early cruise ship. From about 4 a.m. to 5 a.m., I have no recollection of what I do in the morning except that I find myself in the volunteer uniform, wearing shoes, and holding my government ID as I somehow make my way through the front door.

The first part of my walk at 5 a.m. is kind of a blur; some sort of mechanism I've developed over the former years of being a teenager. Then I get to the office and see our wonderful deckhands/captains who actually smile that early, which makes me laugh because they must be crazy. Then I wonder what I'm supposed to do and end up going to the bathroom before hopping in The Van. The Van is filled with the Power Ranger belongings and The Power Rangers themselves. The Captain or one of the deckhand drives the van down to the Bartlett Cove Dock, which they normally comment, "I like driving you all in the morning; it smells like a fruit basket in here!" (I've never received that comment at the end of the day).

On the dock, we secure our bags/cases on the front of our small pilot boat called the Serac. We pile in and make our way to the cruise ship. I like to stand outside during this trip and yell to the other Power Rangers in conversation. You can see humpbacks, sea lions, sea otters, and lots of birds during this ride. The Serac is about 30ish feet high. The cruise ship sinks into the water about 25-30ish feet in the water.

Cruise ships can cruise... fast. So they have to slow down to about 7 knots for us catch up. We cut across the wake of the massive ship in a fun bouncy motion and come along the side. At this point, I usually say, "This is INSANE!" as I look at the icy water flying between me and the massive ship. I look behind me and wonder how far would I be left behind if I fell in. It's still before 9 a.m. so I'm not freaked out.

After the captain has done a few nudges and bumps against the ship's side, he noses the Serac to the ship's side entrance and keeps an eye out for seaweed. The deckhands from the ship throw a rope ladder over and the fun begins. The Power Rangers form a line to the front of the Serac, and we watch for the Captain's "GO!" look. Then, it's my turn...

"OKAY SPRINGBOK!" yells the Captain. He calls me this because of my fancy rope climbing skills. He told me I'm not allowed to pronk though.
I place my first step on the ladder and look straight below me.

Right about here I ask myself, "Melinda... what are you doing?"

I answer, "I don't know."

And then I shimmy my way up the ladder.

After that, I talk to crazies all day. But there's something about knowing that I can fall full-well into deathly icy water that makes me love this job.

The Walk from Hell.

2006-06-06T11:55:00.000-07:00

I’ve had some rather interesting adjustments to make since I’ve been here, and mostly out of safety. We live right on the edge of a bay near park headquarters: a place full of moose and black bear activity. In fact, I see one of either almost regularly, and at least 85% of the time of running into them, it scares the crap out of me. However, I always let the locals keep their personal space and keep a safe distance away, usually perplexed about how to get from point A to point B (these are my work issues).

Sunday, bloody Sunday, I decide to conquer this bear fear (not to be confused with bear fair or beer fear) of mine, and go for The Walk. The Walk is actually called The Bartlett River Trail, a total of 3ish-4ish refreshing miles which runs along the Bartlett River to The Rock (a big rock; not to be confused with the wrestler/actor). Due to cancellations from fog/rain in the 6:30 a.m. boating plans, I go exploring instead and find myself on this notorious trail. It’s nice, refreshing, cool, brisk, beautiful, foggy, rainy, mysterious, silent except for birds and probably bears, dark, desolate, odd, scary, terrifying, and at this point, I’m not sure whether or not I should be calling “Hey bear” like everyone else. I’m nearly wetting myself to every sound I hear, even the songbirds. Ah ha! I have my office keys… two little things on a ring. I dangle them. Slight ring. Good, I can shake them as I walk. And I proceed.

I continue to walk through the terrifying rainforest, being swamped by monstrous trees with their moss hanging down in an I’m-going-to-eat-you-little-girl manner. No slugs. Lots of birds, sometimes chirping like crazy which scared me even more. I hear something to my left and nearly faint. Just a songbird. I dangle my keys faster as I walk along cautiously. It’s 8 a.m. and nobody knows I’m out here. Maybe they’ll find my camera when I die. Maybe bears enjoy the sounds of dangling keys? Like a dinner bell or something. Maybe I should sing? I’m not a good singer, so that might upset the bears more than anything. I come to a sign that says I’m not even halfway to The Rock. I look behind me… no moose. No bears. Nor lions. I force myself forward and continue to dangle the stupid keys. I swear this is how dumb people die.

So what’s the point of going on any further if I’m scaring the crap out of myself? One of the many reasons I came here was to get over a few fears, and bears being one on that list. What would I do if I came up to a bear? Well I grew up with two brothers and I’ve learned how to fight dirty from being the youngest. I already decided I’d take out some of my childhood frustrations on a bear if it ever messed with me. I relaxed a little at this thought, and before I knew it, I was coming up an extremely beautiful site: an opening with, by golly, The Rock. I put my keys away and skipped to The Rock like a little kid that pulled her pants up for the very first time all by herself.

I sat… it was still pretty foggy and didn’t see much. Well, fear conquered. I decided to head back, knowing full well that I’d less likely see a bear on the way back if I didn’t see one on the way here. I hopped along, still dangling the keys just in case. I hop along up the hill and Crap! Literally!

Fresh bear scat!

By the halfway mark, I was yelling “Hey Bear!” every minute and dangling my keys in the air like a sacrificial offering to the monster trees. I was even attempting to sing, which was weird. But then, I heard something. I quickly darted behind a tree, almost tempted to climb up it (another safety mechanism developed from childhood). I yelled Hey Bear a few more times just in case.

Oh… it was just a guy and his mother,… going for a nice walk. They looked at me a bit strange with the “I’m about to get mauled by an imaginary bear” look on my face. I smiled sheepishly and went on my perilous way, no longer feeling like Little Red Riding Hood trapped in a small room full of wolves. I saw the office. Before I knew it, I was nearly home, and just as I was beginning to walk on the deck, I was stopped by one of my neighbors.

“Oh hey, you might want to hang back a little, there are three bear cubs sleeping in front of your apartment, and I think the sow is by the stairs eating.”

Hooray! It's the weekend!

2006-06-02T12:55:00.000-07:00

After week number 3, I'm starting to treasure this precious thing we call sleep. And it is so beautiful.

So what have I accomplished during this particular week? I have resorted to working instead of murdering animals so it has been relatively less violent. Well, kind of. I've learned that my patience has far greater limits than I previously thought before.

Wednesday and Thursday I had two morning cruise ships. For now, I'm going on board as a third ranger which means I man the desk when it gets wild, and I generally "rove" around, chatting with all of the passengers like I have an immense amount of answers. In the beginning, my answers were usually "Um, you know, I'm not quite certain about that" and a *please-cut-me-some-slack-because-I'm-new type of smile* after explaining I don't really know specific numbers of anything.

My "Am I even useful?" attitude quickly transformed into "YES! I KNOW the answer to that question!" as I soon learned facts like "Grand Pacific Glacier: 2 miles wide. Filled entire bay 200 yrs ago. Margarie Glacier: 250 ft above water, 100 ft below, with a retreat of 6-8 ft per day. Lamplugh Glacier: sounds like Shampoo Glacier." and such.

And the highlight of my week? A Japanese couple that were on board the Island Princess ship yesterday. Spoke fairly okay/good English. They had a LOT of questions... and I had each and every answer. Usually, that's a great thing but as a ranger, you want people to actually understand what you're explaining to them, rather than saying something and them smiling in a "whoops, sorry I asked" kind of way. That also means that you have to explain the same idea, but in a variety of ways. So I answered the couple's questions, hoping that they understood my metaphors and explanations. At the end, they both smiled... uh oh... said something in Japanese to one another... then turned to me and said, "Thank you, we learn a LOT today. I understand now." I think they even smiled genuinely after that.

victory!

Murder Mayhem Part II

2006-05-28T13:45:00.000-07:00

I woke up and I could see bright, blue sky above me through my window. I turned over, it was 4:45 a.m. and I went back to sleep.

Approximately four hours later, I woke up again and put stinky clothes on. I knew this task was going to be messy. I made my way down the beach, stopping a time or two to look at sea shells. They were neat. Then I came up to the dock and I saw him standing there.
"Are ya ready?" he asked with a skeptical look.
"I guess so, I've never done this before." I answered nervously.
And we boarded the boat. For such a small vessel, it could really groan and pop. There was an exhaust pipe at the very top and center which was nice to put my cold hands by. We trudged along the bay and made a bee-line for Ripple Cove. I was driving so the bee-line eventually turned into a squiggly line, but we made it nonetheless. We anchored, loaded our weapons with herring, and waited in secret. I ate my peanut butter jelly sandwhich very quietly while I waited for my victim. But... he never came. Did he know? Could he have heard me talking about how hungry I was going to be for dinner? After a couple of hours, the Boss dropped his herring-loaded weapon into the water. After what was about ten minutes, a poor fool fell for it. But this fool was a large fool, 40 lbs to be exact. The Boss begain to reel it in and rested, sweat beginning to form on his brow.
"Here!" The Boss said, handing me the pole, "Reel 'er in while I get uh' bat!"
"Uh... a bat?" I asked while I struggled to stay in the boat. This thing was STRONG.
"Yea! To hit 'em on the head. Yer not reelin' it in fast enough. Really fight it or he's gon' get real pissed off."
He was right, the thing DID get really pissed off. Especially when I brought him to the surface and the Boss tried to spear him, but only cracked against his spine in a useless effort. The pole immediately reeled out of control as I watched in horror.
"AHHHH!!! NO!!! I NEED THAT FISH!!!!" I screamed, and my eyeballs grew to the size of dinner plates. ...I really needed that fish.
But what I didn't know is that it was still on the line, I just had to reel the stupid handle. Meanwhile, the Boss was laughing at me. After what seemed like seven breaks of catching my breath, I finally got the sucker to the surface again. The Boss carefully aimed his dagger-like spear thing and struck him. ...We got it. The Boss quickly went for the bat and made many bashes to the victim's head to make sure he was dead. And he was.

About three hours later, we were back on shore with the Mr. Halibut's body in the trunk. We still had to fillet and skin him. This was my job which, and having no experience, it ended up taking about 2-3 to accomplish. It was not a pretty sight nor a pretty smell but we were done. As I slowly walked up to my apartment carrying about 15 lbs of meat, I waved back to the Boss and we both nodded to a job well done. No fish makes a ninny out of us.

Murder Mayhem Part I

2006-05-23T13:07:00.000-07:00

Friday, I'm became a ruthless killer. It all started out with me flushing a spider down the toilet and I felt almost bad. Then, the phone call came. It was dusk and the eery voice asked me if I had the strength and the stomach to do the job. I warily accepted, knowing full well I had no natural instinct to kill something, unless it was a spider crawling on my foot in the bathroom. I managed to bring my assistant (aka, one of my awesome roommates) to the dock and there were the helpless/innocent victims... dungeness crabs. I picked out the weakest one with a pincher missing. The helpless gimp barely put up a fight as I grabbed his little pinchers from behind (it sounds much cleaner in my head) and proceeded to wack his head off on the side of the dock. But it didn't crack off! and the crab got seriously pissed so I ungracefully threw it away from me in a swift and screaming motion, bouncing off a steel rope thingy which really pissed the bug off. I let him settle down for a minute and reluctantly picked him up to try to do him in again. I hit his head against the metal, still nothing but a hacked off crab. I repeated the banging for about 4-5 more times and finally his head began to split off. I flung the guts out like a mighty native Alaskan wanna-be (meaning, I accidentally flung them all over myself) and threw the still moving crab legs in the bucket. There, they writhed painfully with the loss of their guts and brains. But, little did I know, this was only the beginning.

To be continued...

killer thighs & a buggy mouth

2006-05-20T15:06:00.000-07:00

Hi ya again, it is Saturday! And it is rainy!

which makes it much easier to camp out in the library and read material from the 60s. Yesterday, however, was amazingly beautiful. I know these blogs are getting a bit redundant with all of the "beautiful" mountains, glaciers, critters, and sometimes food but I hardly think it exaggeration in comparison to Stillwater, OK. Anyhoo, yesterday was full of sunshining splendor! I felt a little ooky without getting up and moving around for most of the week so I decided to go on an adventure. It was fairly gloomy weather when I looked out the window, which was nothing new. Should I go somewhere? I have a bike. I wonder how far I can go on that road? I inhaled my orange, threw on some stinky clothes (I've been avoiding doing laundry), and marched somewhat timidly out the door.

"I'll be back!" I said almost threatenly to my roommate. I think they were asleep.

Once outside, it was sprinkling. Ug, oh well. I can always turn back. I ungracefully mounted the bicycle and proceeded in a northeasterly fashion, I think. I raced up a hill in defiance and coasted down through a wooded flatland on some sort of mission. Quite a bit of time passed but I kept focusing trying to balance the bike with no hands and keeping bugs out of my mouth. After 30ish minutes, the sun came out to greet me, and then burn me. I'm developing some incrediblly odd tan lines on my arms. I eventually ended up in Gustavus, keeping on the road as I peddled through, but,... out of no where (to me), I was stopped by a fence. The bike halted, I had the feeling of loss and confusion. I can't go on? I looked around. And then looked behind me. There was no other road. After about five minutes of glaring at the fence, I slowly turned the bike around and continued my ride in a southwesterly fashion, I think.

It took me approximately eighty minutes from beginning to end to find my way back to the apartment. I biked a refreshing twenty miles as it turned out. I'm sure I could have gone to Canada if that darn fence wasn't in my way. I like to think so at least.

Program Prep

2006-05-17T21:57:00.000-07:00

Ah so here I am again, getting ready to nose through the library. I am in "program prep" mode for this week and the next partial week. I can rejoice finally, I've decided what to do my cruise program over! It's more along the lines of "blah blah blah, because Glacier Bay is in constant change, blah blah, it is a control for research in areas of blah because it has no outside influences, blah *burp* blah." It might be interesting as long as I'm this enthusiastic about it tomorrow, or next week for that matter. But yeah, it will be exciting. I'm reading over material/research from the 1890s & 1910s and there's this extremely smart dude here that has used this information and incorporated his own studies into it. There are WORMS on GLACIERS out there! Awesome huh?

Other news: I get my own super-duper computer to work on so I feel pretty fancy and special. It's the newest/best one that they have. Next week I'm going out on a smaller tour vessel for photos which should be very fun. It's raining again. I cooked tortilla soup for dinner. We may eat the pineapple that I got for my birthday tomorrow. I'm fishing for halibut on Sunday for the first time in my life. I'm bringing a camera. Due to gov. computer policy, I doubt I'll upload any pictures on the blog so I'm very sorry. You just might have to use your brain instead and read but I'll make up for it later. I think I may have figured out how to send mail out of this place so beware of upcoming postcards.

Reading time, good night.

work

2006-05-14T20:31:00.000-07:00

Ive finally settled into the first week of work. So what does this work consist of you might wonder? (well, I wondered at least) To the finest description of my knowledge, I am mainly organizing the imaging system, giving a slideshow presentation to cruise ship vessels, transferring research/information from tapes to dvds, and photography. Organizing the imaging system can be summed up to adding the photographers' names, key words, commentary, etc. to each image in the library which has over 110,000 photos. I'll also be scanning slides and doctoring them up with photoshop. I still can't believe I get to stay here the entire summer. I went kayaking/camping with a couple of fellow interpreters in the backcountry last friday. We woke up to a beautiful view of the Fairweather Range and a nice pile of bear scat right by our campsite. I had a full day of sunshine on my birthday which was phenomenal for exploring the Beardslee Islands; I even got sunburnt. I've already seen a variety of wildlife: moose, black bear, porcupine, unknown porpoise, harbour seals, loons, unknown ducks, sea urchines, clams, mussels, star fish, and an unknown spider in my living room. The people here are incredible. It seems like everyone has a good case of traveling/science in their blood so the stories are neverending. This week will be full of transferring tapes to dvds and program prep which means I get to fill my brain with a deadly amount of information. I'm enjoying this a lot. Enough said.

guinea pig?

2006-05-11T18:19:00.000-07:00

Woah. So i'm actually surviving this place so far. i dont even believe it. today i did my observational day where i tagged along with 3 other rangers to a cruise ship to watch them do their stuff. and holy crap... it wore me out just watching them. i love the pace of everything. oh yeah, and im not so worried about food anymore. the more the better apparently. my new worry now is speaking in front of 250ish people about anything i can scrounge up for a presentation. ive got a ton of brainstorming/reading to do over the weekend. oh, tomorrows my birthday too. no work! im going with some others to kayak and camp for a night so it should be interesting in bear country. what better way to spend your last birthday? (kidding)

yesterday rocked: i went swimming! we had to learn the man overboard rescue and guess who got to be the lovely little guinea pig. yep, correct. but i had an emersion suit on so it isnt all bragging about my manli/womanliness. BUT i did have a leak in my foot/flipper so it got a little cold. its been raining constantly since ive been here but seriously. rain. does. not. matter. this place is so beautiful, water really couldn't get me down. wait, i take that back. we did have 10 minutes of sunshine during our swim yesterday when a killer rainbow stretched over the bay. and i floated on my back in the otter position and got a tan on my nose (the only part sticking out of my emersion suit).

Work is absolutely fun and crazy so far. im in desperate need of sleep due to a 5 - 5 work day so until again... have fun =)

We're gone!

2006-05-08T20:05:00.000-07:00

We've made it! Well, to Idaho. But it's absolutely beautiful. We're in Sandpoint for the night. We had a nice and fancy halibut dinner. In the past 48 hours, I've managed to scramble my belongings and myself out of Stillwater with the lovely help of comrades, and then drag it to a pretty plane that was, well, very well-stocked with all sorts of things, including three bicycles. The flight seemed very nice but I later found out that we had to deviate from a large number of thunder/snowstorms. So the pilot is a little tired but still ornery enough to make my mom noisy by driving down one-way streets the wrong way. Welp, tomorrow is almost here and I definitely need my beauty sleep.

Background Information?

2006-04-18T19:29:00.000-07:00

Hello!

I'm finally leaving Oklahoma State University in May! It's my last semester here and then I'll finish up school somewhere else. But the really neat thing is I'll be working at Glacier Bay National Park this summer. (Note the blog title)

http://www.nps.gov/glba/

It's a complete volunteer job. I'll be organizing the imaging system and helping out with anything that happens to need my help. I'll be taking bunches of photos for proof that I'm still alive, so you can check up on this blog just to make sure if you feel like it.

I'll be arriving in Gustavus sometime between May 10th-11th "if the weather's good and the plane doesn't break," as the pilot claims. I'm not sure how long I'll be there, probably until I get too cold. There aren't any roads to Gustavus, so each and every one of you are invited to visit if you can make it here. I want no excuses.

I've been lucky enough to see Alaska twice before. I visited most of the touristy spots of Alaska so this will be a true and tasty treat. I only have two worries so far, which is good. I'm a tad worried that a grizzly bear might want to nibble on my limbs (which I am opposed to) and my other worry, well, I'm concerned I might run out of food. We have to have our groceries air-mailed in every two weeks or so and as I've been told, "I've never see anybody eat so much before, except maybe in the movie Seven" (thank you, Serge). Basically I don't want to cause any plane to crash with my over-abundant supply of food. Other than that, I think things will be fantastic. Yep, I'm ready.