We had finally come home!
Four months of fishing for crab and salmon up into the Bearing Sea was more than enough, at least to me.
It was my first trip, and I was so exited I had made it all the way through the trip; so happy to meet my family at last.
I stepped out to the deck, holding a cup of fresh hot coffee. I could feel the morning’s mist on my face while watching the city waking up.
Morning” I said.
Most of us deckhands were standing up on the deck silent, and all with some strange feeling lingering among us.
A mix of feelings I could say. There was some kind of anxiety and some hesitation. Maybe it was the realization of our arrival or the need to run home to our loved ones. Perhaps it was the safety harness, that holds you back coming out of a habit, developed up in the Bearing Sea. The acknowledgment that nothing is final, nothing is true till the moment it becomes a fact. The very nature of the ocean...
“Come on you guys,” the foreman’s voice cried out.
“Come on lets do it. Let’s offload this baby, and we all go home. Move on. Open the hatches.”
We looked at each other. Slowly we got up to work. Someone picked the chains and someone else the four ways.
“The sooner the better” I said. “Let’s go guys I’m getting the forklifts.”
Before I finished my third step, the mate’s voice blares through the speakers its usual spell. It made everybody freeze for a moment and left us wondering what was wrong at the time.
“Just open the hatches and wait. We have some labor guys coming in an hour or so.”
“You see Eddie, I told you! You ain’t home yet, and maybe you’re going to find yourself passing the Bellingham’s straight by this very afternoon,” I laughed.
Eddie laughed back at me.
“I’ll get you a coffee” he said, heading to the galley.
I stood there by the store room waiting for that second cup of coffee of the day; as I saw him approaching riding a bicycle.
“The world is so small for sure that’s Indian Dave,” I said to myself.
A tall guy around his late 40’s, he was wearing worn-out thrift store clothes and riding a rusty bicycle. He was a homeless native Alaskan guy with whom I fished side by side on pier 86 for many seasons. I admired his joyful carefree character and his unique ability to land a thirty pounder king salmon, like no one else could.
“Hey Dave,” I yelled. “Long time no see”.
I caught him by surprise. He raised his eyes and stared at me trying to figure out who I could be.
Couple moments passed before he replied.
“Well that’s some ecounter.You finally made it on the boats, Alex boy.”
“That you see, “I said. “The thing you don’t see is the ling cods I got on our way back here. Take a guess. I hooked so many of them my body got sore”.
He laughed.
“Come on in, come up and tell me how’s it going, how life is. I see you joined the labor agency, huh?”
“Yep, I am kind of short on cash and I got sent up here for some forklift job”.
“Let’s go in the galley. I’ll get you a cup of coffee. We still have some time anyways you are the first one up here”.
I sensed a heavy storm coming from the moment me and Dave entered the galley.
I was filling that coffee cup when I took a glance at Joe the foreman peering at Dave with a look that wasn’t pleasant at all.
“Good morning to all of you” Dave said “I am the forklift driver. I must report to Joe this morning”.
I heard a couple of not so warm “good mornings” from the crowd around me. Joe didn’t introduce himself either.
“Just get on the deck and wait with the others.” he said.
“That will do”. Dave started his way back to the deck.
“Yo, Dave here’s your cup of coffee just wait I will grab you some water too”.
I passed him the cup and a bottle of water and we both made it to the deck.
We stood there talking about this and that just waiting for the rest of the men to gather and finally start our day.
At last the day started.
The cranes were swinging and booming pallets full of frozen crab and salmon.
I was down in the freezer room helping to load the boxes on the pallets with five or six other laborers. I realized that none of them had the freezer suits or the insolated boots and gloves the job required. The agency had sent those men up on the boat like cattle on the fields. Even, I, in my -40 degrees freezer suit could still feel the frost bite.
I decided to put the guys onto 10 minute shifts.
I got as many abandoned gloves as I could find here and there and split them on the first shift. The progress was slow but we managed somehow to offload the first freezer on time.
“Come on you guys. A little bit more and we get to take a break”
I didn’t finish my words and the siren signaled break time again. I headed to the ladder but Joe came towards me.
“Hey Alex”.
“What’s up Joe?”
“Look. About that guy you brought up in the galley this morning.”
“Yea.Anything’s wrong?”
“No, not at all I just wanted to tell you that we don’t serve coffee to the laborers up here and especially no bottle water. Not on this boat.
“There you go” I thought “the Bearing Sea is laboring in anger. Well I won’t whistle this time. I will keep quiet till the moment comes and I’ll jump out of this damn boat.
”As you wish Joe. That’s not a problem at all. I had no idea”.
I went upstairs with the rest of the guys. Some words; some jokes; some more coffee and the sirens called us back to work again.
We took the second freezer easier than the first.
We had warmed up and the team worked well.
“Come on guys a little more and we are done with this too “but the mate called the second break for lunch and once again up the ladder up to face a shiny warm noon.
“That’s what I call heaven Dave. A day like this after the iron seas of bearing’ I said laughing and sat next to him. I started to account my green foot adventures up in Alaska, having no idea that he grew up on the same island of St. Paul, the location we had as our base. He kept silent the whole time replying to me in half words. He sensed some hostility coming from Joe and his “assistant” standing beside us that I didn’t realize thus preoccupied on my story telling.
“Yes man I grew up in Saint Paul” he stopped me.
I then realized the mean jokes about homelessness and laziness and incompleteness that were coming from those two fellows.
This time I got really pissed off.
I looked at Joe and his assistant as he was laughing towards me.
I have seen meaning ness and discrimination
Going hand by hand in almost every environment I have been into, but this was out of limits.
It is not the race or the color and it is not the religion or the financial status. It is just a part of our human nature and it can happen to everyone, but you can see its expression mostly towards what we call “weak”.
for me Dave is a strong man, and also man who for unknown reasons he lives under “unfortunate” circumstances but he bears with them with no complaints and always content.
He is a working poor, an out of reach, a labor agency guy who get’s paid half the money he deserves for the other half goes to some employment vampire. He is just like me or my kids or like everybody else and he deserves the appropriate respect every being deserves.
There are many reasons for a man to speak up or to be silent. That particular time on the deck I choose to speak. The siren cried the end of the break and we all stood up to go back to work.
“Hey Joe” I said.
“What’s up Alex?”
Guess what’s the difference between a rich crab fisherman on the Bearing Sea ten months out of the twelve and a homeless guy?
“What might that be” Joe laughs ironically.
Well there’s no difference my man they are both homeless.
