The Highway Kind

2015 Freightliner Cascadia

A necessity for truck drivers, somewhere in Oregon

The neighborhood where I sleep. Flying J and Pilot are under the same ownership.

It takes some practice to back a 53ft trailer into a space. And this space is a wide one. Loading docks can be very, very tight with inches to spare between trailers and little room to pull up if you're wrong.

Highway Man

Joshua Trees, Mojave Desert, California

Mojave Desert, CA

 

Nevada, early morning

 

10 speed and smooth

Behind the seats is where I sleep

Pullout table for eating, for writing

California

 "I'm gonna break every heart I can..."

 

Campsite just outside Sequoia National Forest. Arrived in the night and bedded down with my flashlight on the rocky hilltop.

Road beyond the campground

What I awoke to after camping in the night

A famous picture on the way to the Giant Forest

Entering the forest of giants

I heard a rustling in the woods and from above on the trail looked down and saw the bear. He was beside the trail digging in the brush. From above he did not see or smell me. I watched for a moment and then carefully retreated. I did not go further on the trail to see the Sequoia trees.

 The General Sherman Tree, largest living tree by volume in the world. Note the tiny people below.

 

 Gamelin Brothers. 1875. 

I camped again with just my sleeping bag in a forest in the Shasta River Valley. There was good wood to be taken from the forrest and a blazing fire kept the bears away.

The mountains of Oregon, coming north on I-95

Linn, OR the seed capital of the world

Truckers Chapel

At the Luv's Truck Stop at Woodburn, OR

Monkeyfists

Two monkeyfist knots I tied with an old buoy line

The monkeyfist knot is tied from a single line and adds weight so that the line may be thrown more easily between a boat and the dock. 

A line with a monkeyfist is often attached to a much larger and heavier tie line and is thrown first by a deckhand or dockworker so that the heavier tie line may then be pulled through the water and ashore or aboard. 

Additional weight may be added to the monkeyfist by tightening the knot around a small sandbag or ball or rock. But too much weight will weaponize the monkeyfist, transforming it into a dangerous missile when hurled. 

Art of the Forklift

Greenhorn (Part 1)

 My roommate rushed into the break room.

"There's a woman looking for you," he said. "It's about a boat. It's urgent."

"What woman?" I said.

"She's outside now with the boat captain."

I quickly put my computer in my locker. Outside B. the cannery QA manager was standing with the skipper of the Kamilar. She introduced the skipper, L., who was her husband.

There had been a problem with one of the crew members and the replacement deckhand showed up drunk that morning and was immediately fired. Did I want to replace him? The boat left in 30 minutes. It would be a one week black cod long lining trip through Prince William Sound and east to Yakitat and on to Petersburg. It was the last trip of the season to fill out the remainder of the boat's quotas. I would receive a half crew share and if we caught what was expected I could make $1000. I would fly back to the cannery after we offloaded in Petersburg.

As I considered my losing my employment at the cannery and being jobless after a week, B. added that she had spoken with the plant manager and the deck foreman and they had okayed my leaving and return.

"Then I'll go," I said.

The skipper smiled. "You're sure about it?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Do you have rain gear?"

"He can take a set from the cannery."

L. shook my hand. His fingers were massive, as large as two of mine put together. "I'll see you on the boat in 30 minutes."

"We'll drive to your room for your things," said B. "Then into town for your fishing license."

I hurriedly packed my clothes and sleeping bag and tossed my duffel bag into the back of B.'s pickup. At the hardware store I bought an AK resident commercial fishing crew member license, good for one year. I also bought two boxes of Bonine sea sickness tablets. I did not think I became sea sick but as we were a crew of three that normally was four, my possibly being incapacitated could not be risked.

On the ride back B. told me she had seen me work on the dock and had no doubt I could handle it on the boat. She believed my personality would be a good fit. She let me out where the Kamilar was tied up. I threw my bag onto the deck and climbed down the ladder. For the first time I was boarding a fishing boat without a hard hat and life jacket. No longer was I a dock worker at the cannery. I was finally to be a fisherman.

Idiots for Dinner

 

 

I will be eating idiot rockfish for the next few nights. Although prized by the Japanese for their soft, buttery meat, idiots are not well known in the United States. Idiots are the tastiest species of rockfish and sold by the cannery for more than a dollar a pound.