After a relaxing day exploring the Spit and a nice dinner at the home of the second best seafood in Alaska we had a very early morning for a short 45 minute jaunt north of Homer because the box told us Homer was not a choice for us.  In the end, the box made a great suggestion as we had quite the trip including a boat launch from the sandy shores instead of a stable marina.  Not to mention the skipper and Gilligan proved to be quite helpful in helping us meet our quota of two halibuts a piece along with a couple extra fun catches to be covered later.

We should have known we were in good shape when we first discovered the boat and its name, The Hard Eight.  Apparently after the company owner had taken his first halibut fishing trip he decided there was nothing better and so he purchased his first boat and moved to Alaska.  Based on the fact that it could be considered a gamble and so he named his first boat the Hard Eight.  Apparently it was a great gamble as he now has three additional boats.

As I mentioned before, rather than walk down the decks of a marina to a boat we instead launched from a sandy beach but in order to get to this sandy beach we were first loaded into the back of a truck that was very similar to a paddy wagon.  Not that I know the inside of one intimately as when I was arrested I turned myself in, but if I recall correctly there were no windows and we sat on benches facing each other with the door being locked from the outside.  In all of my fishing expeditions I had never been held prisoner prior to departure.  Shame we didn’t think to get a picture of it.  Fortunately the ride was only for a few minutes and then we loaded up into the boat and waited for the state run tractor to hook up to the trailer and back us into the water.  It seems like an awfully simple process and apparently quite cost effective for the state and with little impact on the environment.  The “docking” was similar to circling the airport waiting for clearance to land, or in this instance waiting for the tractor to grab your trailer and back into the water for you to take a run at it. 

Unfortunately we didn’t get the boat to ourselves, but fortunately there were only three additional fishermen (women) with us and all three were a good addition to our ragtag foursome.  As it would happen to be, one of them is a survivor that had also run the marathon for Team In Training based out of Kansas City.  The other two was a father/daughter tandem from Austin, TX.  Apparently the daughter had always wanted to go to Alaska and her dad promised her that when she turned 12 they would go.  They were enjoying it so much they called home and broke the news to the mom/wife that they were sticking around for even longer.  Now I can’t wait until my boys turn 12 so I can take a similar trip.  Side note:  12 appears to be the magical age that kids can start to do the fun adventurous trips otherwise Alaska might be a bit of a waste.

After a short ride deep into the inlet we arrived to our fishing hole, about 350 feet down, our crew explained the process to us.  Since halibut are bottom feeders we would attach bait fish to a line along with a five pound weight and then drop it into the water slowing the line occasionally and waiting for the weight to hit the bottom.  Once the weight was on the bottom it was a waiting game while you patiently hold onto the rod in anticipation of the pulling of the line.  We also learned not to “set the hook” by jerking the pole up as the halibut, much like myself, have delicate mouths and a jerk of the hook would just rip through the mouth of the fish.  Fortunately these guys know where the fish are and it didn’t take long before we were hauling in halibut and after each catch deciding if we should throw it back or keep it knowing that we were allowed to keep only two.

Unfortunately it wasn’t much longer after we started pulling in halibut, I discovered that cod also frequented this area and also hung out near the bottom.  After letting my line settle for some time the captain said to reel it in as sometimes cod are on and so I did as asked and quickly discovered that cod have zero fight, but reeling in a 15 pound cod along with a 5 pound weight over 300 feet can get quite tiring…especially when done multiple times.  For some reason the cod loved my line and seemed to avoid everyone else and so I quickly gained the nickname of the Cod Father.  Despite my love for fish sticks, the crew did even give an option for keeping the cod and quickly tossed it back much like tossing trash into the ocean.  One other discovery is that the cod also feed on the young halibut as you can see in this picture taken of what I believe was cod number 3…then again they all blend together.

After a few hours fishing in the same spot, with success for most everyone, things all of a sudden went cold.  And then the fellow marathoner caught something huge and quickly got into a lengthy battle with something huge.  His pole was bending more than we had seen on the halibut and eventually was unable to reel any further.  While this was happening another strong battle started with the father, but he was able to reel his in and we found a skate.  I had never heard of a skate before but soon discovered that a skate was like a sting ray.  After the smaller one was reeled in my line went tight and I had a battle on my hands as well.  Mine was larger than the first one brought in, but I was able to reel it all the way in and needless to say was absolutely exhausted.  Eventually the crew had to pull the line in by hand.  The skates were basically like fighting a kite in a strong wind.  We were now officially under attack of the skates.

It was during the attack that we almost lost Andrea, but not to a skate.  Instead it was to what would prove to be the largest halibut caught that day.  I think we were all paying attention to the really large skate being pulled in when all of a sudden I hear something and look back and find Andrea struggling to hold on to the pole and at the same time struggling to stay in the boat.  Yes, I exaggerate a bit, but not nearly as much as you might think.  As can see below, the fish was almost bigger than my diminutive friend.  Once Andrea saved face and courageously won the fight it was pretty quiet water and so we pulled anchor and headed to another spot.

Once again the crew knew what they were doing and where to go as we all quickly filled our quota of two fish per person.  This was also the place that Mike got to fulfill what appeared to be a lifelong dream and corrupt a young girl at the same time.  Throughout the trip I learned of Mike’s strong desire to kill something/someone.  So in order to avoid him fulfilling this dream on me as I slept at night I asked if Mike could be the one to club the fish and the crew was more than happy to oblige.

His bloodlust was contagious and the 12 year old was next in line to swing away.

Fortunately it was the last fish to be hauled in and so no more senseless murder occurred and we were pulling anchor and heading back to shore to weigh and display the bounty of the day.

Once all the pomp and circumstance is over, it’s finally time to begin the slaughter.  I was very surprised to see how quickly they were able to fillet each and every fish.  Once filleted they vacuum seal it for you and then offer to flash freeze and ship.  The box didn’t recommend the last portion and so we saved money by “freezing” it at our cabin and then the ladies got it packed up and shipped the next day while I was off shooting bears…with my camera.

*No animals were harmed in the shooting of this post, except for the tasty morsels that have made their way to my deep freezer.

Don’t ask me why it has taken so long, I think it has just been a lack of motivation.  Work has been pretty busy and I got a case of the “there is always tomorrow”itis.  If memory serves me correctly we last left off from our trip to Alaska with our stay in Kenai.  The next morning we awoke early and hit the road for our jaunt to Homer.

Along the highway we saw several signs posted that listed the number of moose killed by cars for the year and ironically, despite the number being in the high 70’s, we had not seen anything up until that day.  Thanks to eagle eye Mike, we found one only an hour into the drive.  Below is a photo of our first moose sighting, number 1 of what would prove to be only a few to be seen our entire time in Alaska.

This next photo is the second moose to be spotted.

A couple of hours after the moose sightings we finally reached the outskirts of Homer and stopped at this “scenic view” stop where we got our first sighting of the Homer Spit.  A little disclosure here is that I don’t think we knew anything about the Spit even though we saw it from this view point.  I don’t recall about the others, but from my understanding of Homer, it was a beautiful town located on the water.  What we soon found out is that the Spit is pretty much where the action is…at least for tourists and fisherman.  Below is a small compilation of the scenic view from just outside of town.  The Spit is the skinny strip of land that you will see on the left hand side of a few of the photos.

As this trip was very educational in many forms, this was also another learning opportunity for us.  As we were leaving the viewing area a police officer pulled over a truck and Mike quickly explained to us that “All cops are jerks!”  At first I thought he was kidding, but then as I observed the frothing from his mouth, the red forming in his eyes, and the veins popping from his neck I quickly realized the true level of disdain for these fine men and what they do to serve and protect by laying their life on the line for us day in and day out.  I tried to change Mike’s mind, but he was having none of it and I still fear that someday Mike will die at the hands of a friendly police officer during one of his drunken rants while streaking through our neighborhood chasing his dog with a bic lighter. (Editor’s Note: Mike’s unsubstantiated hatred for peace keeping officers is not a general view of the management here at TeamFricke)

Our trip to Homer proved to be a first in many sightings and like the moose, this was our first sighting of an eagle up close.  We were driving down the main road and someone happened to look up and spot the eagle’s nest and so being the photography idiots that we are we quickly pulled over and started to snap away.  Below is my favorite photo from the bunch where I managed to luck into a photo of one of the eagles landing with lunch.  Below that is a quick montage of some of my other favorites.

After lunch we checked into our nice cabin and we quickly learned of the Spit by talking to the owner.  Simply put, the Spit is an extension of Homer, essentially a finger of land extending into the water.  There is a large marina on one side, plenty of shops and restaurants throughout, tour operators ready to sign you up for an adventure filled tour, plenty of campgrounds, and what looks like some pretty nice town houses at the very end of the Spit.  While the town houses looked nice, I can’t even begin to imagine how cold that must be in the winter.

The lighthouse that surprisingly is not that big.

A couple of bars with some interesting names.  For some reason we didn’t bother sampling any of the local beverages here.

The marina.

The mandatory photo with the fake fish.

This was also the first sea otter spotting for us, but nothing compared to what we would later see in Seward, but that’s another post.

There were also a couple of monuments in memory/honor of the lost fishermen.  It was at this point that I remembered seeing this on a show on Discovery channel.

Not so sure the girls were too happy to be watching Mike and run around on the rock beaches taking photos of the sea otter.  Fortunately all of their fingers were sticking up at this point.

Speaking of Discovery channel shows, for you fans of Deadliest Catch, Homer is the hometown and home port for Time Bandit and they also have a nice tourist shop set up with an actual crab pot set up with live crabs inside.

As I mentioned, the Spit is also where the fishing expeditions go in and out of and so naturally this a good place for them display the catch of the day and to clean the fish after the trip.

It’s also the perfect opportunity to suck gullible people, like Mike, into believing some things were actually swallowed by the fish. 

The shell is real, the finger is not.

Finally to end an adventurous/relaxing day we stopped off at the restaurant that has the “Best Seafood in Alaska”.  Unfortunately the wait was about 90 minutes and so I asked where the 2^nd best seafood was and without skipping a beat they quickly referred us to a restaurant down the Spit that proved to be quite the tasty dinner and prepared us for a restful night of sleep before waking very early for our fishing expedition…ironically not to be taken out of Homer.