Day 7
The wind kicked up and was howling through the trees but the anchorage was well protected and the williwaws were not a major problem. One of the halyards was slapping up against the mast and without the Captain saying anything, Quinn donned his rain jacket and went topside. Mikey followed as the safety observer as Quinn struggled with the bungee cord to tighten the flapping halyard. As Quinn climbed back into the cockpit he said, “She’s really howling out there.”
The boys visited awhile longer but sleep called. Johnathan woke a couple of times and just listened to the wind making the rigging cables sing. Not an unpleasant sound, much like a far-off train whistle with each cable responding to a different harmonic creating a symphony of whistling sounds. The swinging of the boat on the anchor and the sound of the rain would quickly put him back to sleep. The rain grew harder and pounded on the steel deck but none of the boys heard a thing. The Captain was up several times to make sure the anchor was secure but he, too, was soon back asleep. Dawn comes early in the high latitudes but the heavy clouds masked the effect and everyone slept in. Until nature called. Once Mikey made the move to relieve himself the other three soon followed.
Captain John was in a good mood and greeted the boys with, “How about some ham and eggs for breakfast?”
Kade spoke for them all saying, “Sounds great! Seems we are a tad short of eggs and ham.”
“I think there are several cans of Spam and cans of dry eggs in the hold. The Spam cans are rectangular and the eggs are in good sized cans labeled with an ‘E’. Not going anywhere until this rain and wind lets up.”
Mikey asked, “What is Spam?”
“You’ve never had Spam?”
Quinn spoke up saying, “It’s canned pork and pretty salty. I had it a couple of times on camping trips.”
Captain John said, “Pretty much a staple in the villages because it keeps forever. I would suggest mixing up the eggs and dicing the Spam to make a scrambled egg dish. Maybe add some of the saltwort if any is left.” As an afterthought, he added, “Some onions would be nice. Call me when it is time to eat.”
Johnathan was not sure he wanted to try something called “Spam” but Quinn was starving and told Kade to get the cans open. Mikey scooped out enough of the dry egg mix for two dozen eggs and added the required water. Quinn had him add a little of the powdered milk and the left-over cheese sauce. Kade helped by chopping the two cans of Spam into little pieces and Mikey added them to the mix. Quinn added a variety of spices along with the saltwort while he heated up the largest frying pan. As directed Mikey poured half the mixture in the hot pan. Quinn covered the pan with a cover that almost fit they let it slowly cook.
Quinn said, “Now comes the hard part.” He gently loosened the omelet from the pan and with a bit of anxiety – flipped the eggs into the air and amazingly they landed back in the pan without hardly a mess. Johnathan was impressed and asked, “How did you learn to do that?”
Kade answered saying, “Our Dad taught us but only when Mom was not around.”
They let the mixture cook for a few more minutes before cutting it into sections and calling the Captain forward. Before Quinn sat down he added the remaining egg mixture to the pan and covered it. The Captain tilted his head back a little to better appreciate the smell and said, “Hope it taste as good as it smells.”
Not much else was said until Quinn got up to flip the second batch. Kade spoke up saying, “I’ll bet you a nickel you can’t do it again.”
Quinn looked at him with a bit of a sour look but nodded his head in agreement. He concentrated even harder this time…maybe a little too hard. The eggs flipped just fine, landing flat in the pan. But the omelet had managed to bounce off of the galley ceiling. The Captain frowned for a second but said, “It’ll clean up easy enough. Looks like Kade owes you a nickel.”
Quinn looked at Kade with a snarly smile and just nodded his head. The second batch disappeared only a little slower than the first.
It was a leisurely clean up with maybe a bit too much horseplay. The Captain put down his book and said, “I’m going to my cabin. You should be able to find something useful to do or I’ll find it for you.”
The boys settled down a little as Mikey returned to his drawing and Kade to his book. Johnathan was studying the chart looking for places he wanted to see. Quinn began looking through the storage compartments and making enough noise that Kade finally asked, “What are you looking for?”
“I thought there was a container of flour somewhere. I want to bake bread.”
Kade thought for a minute before replying, “Look in the most forward compartment on the left.”
The voice from the aft cabin called out, “I heard that.”
Kade rolled his eyes and slapped his forehead saying, “Gees, not again.”
Quinn retrieved the container which was labeled with an “F” scratched into the top. It had a lid like the oatmeal boxes but the seal was intact. Johnathan looked up and asked, “What is the date on the can?”
“No date and looks like it has been around for a while.” He used his small pocket knife to cut the seal and pop off the lid. It was flour and looked ok. Now he needed some yeast and remembered seeing some packets in with the spices. They were 5 years out of date. He spoke up asking, “Is there any way of testing yeast?”
Johnathan spoke up saying, “Maybe try dissolving it in water with some sugar in it. If it bubbles then it is alive and growing.”
Quinn mixed the yeast in some warm water and waited and waited but no bubbles were forming. He gave up on his project and picked up a book. After about an hour Kade said, “Quinn, looks like you are growing something.”
Sure enough a slightly grey/tan film had formed with lots of small bubbles evident. Quinn stirred in a little flower and some more water followed by three more cups of flour and some salt. It was a gooey mess but Quinn was happy. He covered it with a towel. He heated a pan of water and placed the bowl in the warm water to encourage the yeast. Checking again the bread recipe in the “Cooking at Sea” cookbook he considered adding some spices but decided to keep it simple. Mikey asked, “When is the bread going to be ready?”
“Not until tonight.”
Mikey replied, “The smell is already making me hungry.”
The Captain came forward and nodded his head in approval before donning his rain gear. He explained, “I think we’ve had enough rain now to wash any of your grime from the foredeck. I’m going to open the water inlet and capture some of this rainwater.”
The boys went topside to watch but stayed in the covered cockpit. The Captain sealed off the scupper just forward of the step in the deck and water began to immediately pool on the deck. He opened the cap to the water filler and let the water run into the tank. As he climbed back into the pilot house and removed his raingear he explained, “That step in the deck is structural but it also creates a natural dam. Works great for collecting water. Otherwise we would have to use buckets at one of the waterfalls.”
The rain continued but the wind was letting up. Lunch was more of an ongoing snack than a separate meal as all leftovers gradually disappeared. Books were read and naps taken. It was late afternoon when the rain finally stopped or rather slowed to a drizzle and the sky lightened to the west. The Captain appeared and asked, “What are you planning for dinner? He went topside without waiting for an answer to secure the cover to the water tanks and stood watching the clouds break up. Below the boys were taking inventory. They had just a little of the yellow eye left and some potatoes. Kade volunteered to try and catch another crab and Mikey said, “If you can get us another crab, I can make some chowder to go along with Quinn’s bread.”
Quinn said, “Kade, if you can’t catch something we are going to have to thaw some of the fish we were bringing to Mom.
Kade went topside after putting on his raincoat. He put the last piece of halibut skin on his hook and dropped it overboard. It was several min
utes before he felt the tugging on the line. It was quicker than a fish bite and he slowly pulled the line in while yelling for someone to get the net. Mikey was the first up the companionway and was donning his life vest as he climbed out. He clipped on the safety line and climbed down onto the swim platform. As before the crab let go just as it reached the surface but its escape was blocked by the net. It wasn’t as if it was in the net but just tangled up in it. Mikey swung the net aboard and the crab fell free and began scurrying around the deck. Its only route of escape was the scupper openings and Kade was dancing around blocking the scuppers. It seemed to be an impasse with the crab challenging Kade with its pinchers until Mikey dropped the net back over the crab. Now Kade was able to grab the crab far enough back that the pinchers could not get him and into the ice chest it went. Kade said, “I think that glacier ice will cool our crab down a bit. It sure was aggressive.”
Mikey dropped the line overboard trying to replicate Kade’s feat. Nothing happened for several minutes and then he felt something. He tried to bring the line in slowly but all of a sudden it took off. He never set the hook because all he could do was hang onto the rod. His frantic calls for help brought everyone topside. He was getting lots of advice but not much help. Finally, the Captain said, “No way to chase whatever you hooked. Do your best but don’t let it spool you.”
Good advice but a tad late as the last of the line streamed off the reel. Mikey stood and just looked at the empty spool before saying, “Sorry, but it seems I lost.” He asked, “What was it?”
The Captain replied, “Might have been a shark or huge halibut but as fast as it was moving maybe a sea otter. No way to tell.”
Mikey said, “Sorry about losing the line. Will it hurt whatever I hooked?”
The Captain rubbed the stubble on his chin before replying, “We use hooks that rust pretty quickly in the salt water so I expect at the most it will slow the critter down for several days. It could even have been like Johnathan’s whale and not even know it was hooked.”
By now everyone was pretty wet and went below to dry up. At Mikey’s request Kade searched for some of the canned corn, marked only by the “c” scratched into the lid. The first can they tried turned into carrots but the next had corn. While Mikey worked on his soup stock Quinn heated the small oven up to 450 F and put the Captain’s Dutch oven into the oven to preheat it. The bread had been rising for about 10 hours but was still the gooey mess the cookbook described. After preheating the pot, Quinn carefully took it out of the oven and sat it on the stove top. He then plopped the gooey mess into the pot and put the cover back on. He told Kade, “Set the timer on your fancy watch for 30 minutes. We need to uncover the bread and finish baking it to get good color.”
Kade mumbled something about Quinn learning to tell time but did as he was asked. A patch of blue sky was now visible to the west and Kade went topside to clean his crab. He called down, “This damn crab is still trying to grab me. The ice did slow it down.” He decided to do the quickest method of cleaning the crab and simply dropped it on deck and stepped on it which broke the shell free. After cleaning the gills off he took the legs down to Mikey who dropped them into his soup stock intact. After they turned bright orange/red he pulled them out for extracting the meat. Johnathan offered to help but Mikey refused saying, “You will do too much sampling. We only have one crab and I need all of it for the chowder. How about chopping up the fish we have left?”
With the chowder simmering and the bread baking the smell of food was making the boys extra hungry; almost certainly they would starve before the food was ready. Kade asked, “Don’t you think we should check the bread? It is probably done?
“Not until the timer goes off. We don’t want to ruin it.”
That was all it took; the timer went off. Quinn opened the oven door and gingerly reached in with the old partially burned hot pad holder and pulled the cover off the Dutch oven. Before he could set it down gently on the stove the heat penetrated through the hot pad and started to burn his fingers. He dropped the cover the last few inches and the sound awoke the Captain. When he came forward to check on the boys he was assaulted by the smells of fresh bread and chowder. He sat at the table enjoying the smells of the cooking food and said, “Seems we will be eating well tonight.” After sitting quietly for several minutes, he remarked, “This may be only the second time the oven was actually used to cook something other than cookies. If your bread tastes as good as it smells the oven was a good investment.” Quinn nor Mikey said anything, but the smiles as they looked at each other told the story.
The last 20 minutes of baking seemed to take forever but when Quinn took the pot out of the oven and turned it upside down this beautiful loaf of bread fell out. Quinn turned the loaf right side up to cool and could not resist tasting the crumbs. Johnathan asked, “Is it any good?”
“Maybe. You will know as soon as it cools.”
The Captain said, “I bet some of that canned butter would go pretty well with the bread. Small cans shaped like a tuna fish can.”
Kade remembered seeing the cans and went digging in the food locker until he found it. When he opened it, Quinn took a paper towel and wiped some of the butter on the hot bread. Now they had to deal with the smell of fresh baked bread, butter and chowder. Stomachs were growling everywhere.
When Mikey announced, his chowder was ready, Quinn told Kade, “How about you slice the bread with your sharp knife but clean it first.”
The Captain asked, “Don’t you think my knives are sharp?”
Kade answered, “Sharp enough if you don’t want to cut anything.”
“I suppose the drawer and the salt water mist is pretty hard on the edge of a knife. Maybe you should spend some time sharpening them.”
Kade just nodded his head as he attacked the bread. The simplest thing was just to cut the loaf into five pieces, trying to make sure they were all equal. Johnathan was telling him about the volume ratios of irregular spheres but Kade just winged it. Quinn said, “You cut so we choose first.” The bread sections were picked up quickly and the chowder ladled into the bowls.
Everyone was busy eating and not much was said. Johnathan finally said, “You guys did a good job.”
The Captain used the last of his bread to clean his bowl and sat back with a look of satisfaction. They began visiting about a variety of things and Johnathan asked, “Did you ever get scared flying?”
At first the Captain did not say anything being lost in his own thoughts. He said, “Flying in the North country is always an adventure but the only time I was really scared was when I helped fly some airplanes outside to the east coast.” Mikey wanted to know what “outside” meant and the Captain explained, “Outside is anywhere out of Alaska.”
Johnathan asked, “What happened?”
The Captain stood up and stretched before saying, “Seems Kade volunteered to do dishes tonight. When he is done, I’ll tell you the story.”
When the galley was cleaned up the Captain reappeared carrying his glass of amber liquid. He began his story by explaining that at the time he was living in Nome.
One day a good friend Peter, an energy engineer, called me and said, “Got a guy needs two Cessna 150's delivered to the East Coast from Anchorage. Peter was, probably still is, an experienced instrument pilot. Well, that didn't take much and I said sure. I learned to fly in the Cessna 150's and my time in the 172, though bigger, helped. The planning began.
Peter with his engineering background covered all the details. Charts, books, you name it. The day came, I flew from Nome to Anchorage. The planes were parked at Merrill Field, probably the busiest small airport in the world. After a night with some friends we headed to the airport. Pre-flight, done. Now comes the bad part, I have no experience with flight control towers. Peter assured me we'd be fine. He did the radio work and cleared us both for a take-off to the East. 30 minutes out it felt like we were back in Alaska and a
way from the congestion of the city. Flight plan set, weather good we made our way East then South. Hooked up with the Alcan Highway and things got civilized.
Somewhere in Canada, I think Watson Lake, we had a weather system on our butt. The weather guy at the Flight Service Station said “If you want to get out of here, leave now and head due East. Not part of the plan, but with a couple more charts we headed across the northern Canadian plains. Boreal forest for as far as you can see. Small mining towns, a few oil rigs. Mostly wilderness. The little town we stayed at was perfect. Airport guy gave us a car to use, found a motel with a bar near-by. It was a long day of flying but we got some miles ahead of that weather front. I don't care what people might think, but Canadians, in general, are really, really friendly people.
The following day we fueled up heading East till we got above Winnipeg and turned South to the border. 40 knot tail winds we made great time. We never flew close together but the old movies with the planes going up and down, well they are real. Not sure we made it to the planned stopover that day but I made it clear to Peter I didn't need to land at the Winnipeg International Airport. We picked a smaller town.
The next day that damn weather front was on our butts again. Early start, we crossed the border with no problem and headed East. My one stop was my old college town of Bemidji in Northern Minnesota, where two friends met us at the airport. Little chatting and hugs, more fuel and we were off. The weather was good ahead of us. We made it to some small town in North Eastern Michigan where we dropped off the first plane.
Now, it was two in the one plane with gear, full of fuel, pretty much max'd out weight wise. Had an easy two-hour flight to Burlington VT where I was getting off. Nice wide valley through the mountains. Peter did his homework and wrote everything down. Piece of cake. Sort of. Wasn't long after take-off we gained enough altitude to pick-up the Burlington VOR signal. It's a directional signal to point you where you want to go. But, the weather started going to shit. A technical aviation term. Scud running now, going from ridge to ridge, climbing. The VOR kept sending us south. Maybe winds aloft? One rule they beat into you as a student pilot, was always trust your instruments. But something was wrong. No highway, no wide pass and the weather deteriorated. Snowball sized snowflakes were flying past the windshield.
It did not take long and Peter suggested we abandon the VOR and set a new course to the NE. We were now in the middle of the Adirondack Mountains. As the weather got worse he radioed in an emergency call and told me to climb. That meant there goes the land. Keep the wings level, nose up, airspeed at 80 mph and hold the heading while Peter tried to figure out where we were. The Control Tower picked up our radio call and a woman's voice came on. Now, they never taught me about “emergency” but I soon learned you were assigned to one person.
Peter requested coordinates to the airport over and over. The response was the same each time “Negative, report at 8000 feet.” Pilots of small planes talk about the “ceiling” that's the maximum height you can go. We were at 6500 feet and only climbing a little. We had reached our ceiling. 8000 feet was not going to happen.
At one point, I looked out my left window and off my wingtip saw a mountain. I don't know if it was a little break in the clouds or if we were damn close or both. Everything ahead was white on white. We were not sure what was ahead of us. Wings level, nose up, airspeed 80 and maintain a heading.
Vertigo is a concept maybe only pilots know, at least the live ones. It feels like you are turning or even spinning and you have no external input to recalibrate your senses. The experienced pilots with instrument time learned to ignore it and follow the gauges. I didn't have that experience. I thought we were banking to the left, yet the instruments said otherwise. I followed the instruments. Those couple hours “under the hood” in flight training paid off. It was reassuring knowing Peter could easily take over.
Asked if we were scared, I don't know. Maybe you can't be scared on scared or we had plenty to do and it wasn't an option. Peter kept calling in asking for coordinates and the same reply “report at 8000 feet” from the same woman's voice. Wasn't going to happen.
It was only a long, long few minutes after seeing the mountain, Peter gets hailed on the radio with a heading and distance to the airport. Thirty miles away and the weather was improving, there now was a horizon. Fifteen minutes. Peter's navigation guess was damn close. Nose down, air speed up and a slight correction in heading. We made it to the other side.
Upon getting close to the airport, our familiar voice came on and asked, “Do you see the runway?” Peter's response was negative. It was hazy. Short minute later she had the strobe lights lit up. Couldn't miss it. Peter reported confirmation. The landing was easy. Big airport, we landed.
Normally at that point you get directed to ground control but that same voice directed us to a parking spot next to the tower. We were instructed to see the supervisor. I don't think she relaxed till we left the airplane. The ground felt awfully good.
Headed to the top floor and the supervisor was waiting for us. We sat down and Peter went over our flight plan and had his note book with radio channels, VOR directional channels, transponder frequencies that relayed our coordinates to the tower. Time, distance, pretty much everything. He is an engineer. The supervisor unfolded his chart, same as ours and Peter described our route. When he mentioned the VOR signal was way off, the supervisor stood and asked if anyone knew about the VOR station. One controller reported “They moved it to some town 200 miles away.” Looking at his chart and the direction we came from he saw what happened immediately. The change of the station drove us into those mountains. Normally, when they move a VOR station it's 1000 miles away to avoid this problem. Not much more was said. No paperwork, nadda. His chart was two weeks out of date as was ours.
Then he brought us to the flight control agent. A couple chairs were brought into her little cube. There stood a beautiful woman probably our age, though to be honest after those couple hours any women would have been lovely. I turned to Peter and gave him that look, “How could you yell at that?”
I don't remember if she had a record of our tracking or just showed us. The transponder leaves a big dot on her large screen. She showed us the mountain I saw. Didn't take much to realize why she wouldn't send us north and right into that mountain. She did her job by the book.
One thing though, her make-up was a mess. Tear streaks running down through her mascara to her chin. I suspect she was more scared than we were. Course she knew more than we did. Thanked her and headed out. As we left another tear ran down her face. Waved at the supervisor and out the door.
I had my friends Mike & Stacy waiting for us at the base of the tower. I was going to stay for a few days before heading back to Alaska. Peter had one short flight to make to drop off the second plane. Mike maybe the only one I ever told that adventure to who truly understood what happened. He had spent his career commercial flying in Alaska. He had stories I couldn't match, nor would want to.
After that experience I have used a phrase, maybe not all that uncommon. Few know where that came from for me, but I do, and used it some zillion times. “It's always good to be lucky!”
The Captain got up after swallowing the last of his drink and headed aft without saying anything but, “Need to get some more ice tomorrow.”
Captain’s Log
Day 7
The first weather day; securely anchored in Moonlight Bay. More good eating with fresh baked bread. Boys have a keen interest in things Alaskan. Weather should break tonight.
Will need to decide soon if I will offer them the offshore sailing experience. I think they could handle it if the weather is reasonable.