16 July: Days-38, Total-40; Miles-20, Total-1352
– Chuck
Recently, everyday has been a little cooler than the
previous day. It was in the sixties when we were in Ruby; yesterday
morning it was in the mid-forties, this morning was in the low forties.
We were on our way at 7:30am. Soon the wind and waves were growing.
Bill has been feeling tinges of pain in his neck, we have been trying
to take it easier and we may need to take a complete day of rest. When
paddling into a headwind and heavy waves, it is not really possible
to "take it easy".
Since about the time we passed through Circle, AK, we have seen fish
camps on the river bank. Most are only used when the salmon are running
and there are several types of salmon each with their own habits and
unique schedule. The King Salmon are now running in this area. Some
camps are quite elaborate and either have residents for the entire summer
or get lots of weekend visits. In the Yukon, salmon are either caught
with a set, gill net or with a fish-wheel. The water is too silty to
use rod & reel. However, the heavily silted river enables the fish-wheel
to work whereas in a clear stream the fish will avoid them. The fish-wheel
is a type of trap. Big mesh scoops rotate into the water, occasionally
lifting out large salmon which slide down a chute into a holding box.
This big thing is handmade of wood and rotates 24 hours a day. Most
folks check their traps once or twice a day. The catch is taken to their
nearby fish camp, cleaned, filleted, salted and smoked. Fish that have
spawned and started to deteriorate are dried for feeding to the sled
dogs during winter.
The majority of the fish camps are clustered within about 10 miles of
a village, both up and downstream.
Back at Galena, Andy Summers told us about a fish camp, 18 miles down
stream at Bishop Rock. He thought they might sell us some salmon. Bill
and I decided that I would stop, get the salmon and catch him down the
river. I paddled ahead and soon saw the big rock cliffs and a large
white cross to honor the bishop that was killed near here. The fish
camp was tucked in a cove behind Bishop's Rock. There were three or
four houses, a couple of smoke houses, covered cutting tables &
drying racks, some other out buildings and three boats. I stayed clear
of their landing and yelled "Hello" several times. Finally,
some women came out. Martha and young Raymond said hello and disappeared.
I asked Jenny if they had any salmon they would sell. She told me it
had been salted, but had not yet been smoked so I would have to cook
it within a day or two. She picked out about as many filet strips as
we would get when preparing a dinner for six to eight adults. Evidently
this was really Eilene's fish, I asked her how much and she wanted to
give it to me. When I insisted on paying, she said OK, $2. I gave her
$4 and still felt like it was not enough.
On the way back to my canoe, I took a picture of eight year old Cicely
playing with a couple of the many large dogs. Everyone there appeared
to be Athabaskan Indian. All were friendly and cheerful.
Bill was just passing by as I slipped into the main flow of the river.
As we talked about our experiences with many of the local people. Bill
developed a theory: The ones who work hard to make a living for their
family are helpful and friendly, those that are on some type welfare
program or other give-away plan are sour, unfriendly, have bad attitudes
and are often high or hungover.
As we fought the wind and waves, I thought of the many ways I might
fix some of the salmon. At one point I saw ice pellets falling on the
canoe cover. We found a level spot and pulled onto a mud shore. There
were wolf tracks in the mud. We both got our feet stuck in the mud as
we waded alongside the boats to unload our gear. Bill nearly fell with
a load; he caught himself on one knee. The lower half of his body was
soaked in chilly water with 15 kts of wind to keep him cool. We no more
than got our tents up till it started sleeting. Twenty minutes later
the sun came out. I started fixing the salmon. Then quick back in the
tent, this time snow was mixed with the sleet. This sun & salmon
then sleet & snow sequence was repeated four times. I have given
up on the salmon for tonight, I am in the tent and sleet is blowing
against the tent by what must be a wind of 40 kts. The tent is shaking
but not budging. This is probably the hardest blow we have had on the
trip.
Later... When the wind eased, the sleet stopped and the sun appeared,
I moved quickly to baste and pan-fry a couple of fillets. A stir-fry
of onions, cabbage and carrots made a bed for the fillets. A toasted
english muffin and some cool mountain stream water completed the meal.
As I was putting away the washed utensils, the sleet started again,
I dashed to the tent one last time. It is now 10pm, it is sleeting outside
and I am dry, warm and well fed inside. :)