People – Riveted

Shiny Shacks | Airstream Repairs

Laura Domela — Mon, 24 Apr 2017 18:21:02 +0000

We have used our Airstream exactly twice since we bought Airship in September 2014. The first time we got back to our poor neglected shiny buddy, we noticed a little soft spot in the floor (front port side, next to Kevin’s side of the bed). It was small and in a low traffic area, and since we keep the Airstream inside when we aren’t using it, we didn’t feel rushed to get it repaired, but it was definitely on the list.

Then last month when we spent that week at the coast with it, the soft spot seemed like it had grown a little, and we also learned that we had a leak in our fresh water tank. Two things wrong = repair time. We’ve had plenty of experience with the local (and not so local) Airstream dealers/service centers, and our experiences have not all been awesome, so we contacted our friend Brad at Shiny Shacks in Salem, and asked if he wanted the gig. Brad primarily works on older trailers (40s 50s 60s)…repairs, rebuilds, remodels…but he was up for working on our 2010 model, so off to Salem we went.

This is Brad, with his 1962 Airstream Flying Cloud:

If you saw the other post about our first visit to Shiny Shacks, then you’ll already know this, but it is one of the 8 known survivors of Wally Byam’s Caravan Around the World (1963-64). The trailer belonged to Airstream photographer Fran Hall during the historic trip around the world, and Brad’s got a photo of it in front of the Kremlin in 1964. The Kremlin. 1964.

Update: Brad just sent me this photo to show you:

Anyway, here are some “during” photos of the repairs Brad did (photos courtesy of Shiny Shacks):

Well hey, look at all that rotted wood! Brad said the rot occurs because “Airstream places a thin insulation barrier directly over the frame and under the subfloor. It is not porous, so water coming in at the wall finds its way on top of the insulation. Because the insulation is supported at the frame rail, outrigger, and perimeter channel, the water pools in the center. This pool leaches up from below into the subfloor and creates dry rot. A couple of periodic holes in the insulation sheeting could have prevented this.”

We opted for a seam, rather than removing the bed and nightstands and pulling up the entire piece of flooring. This allowed Brad to get in there and just fix the problem area. Plus, we normally keep a rug there anyway, so the seam will never show.

Regarding the leak in the water tank, Brad had just done the exact same repair on a 2014 Airstream. It was a broken seam on the water pump inflow line. Seems the factory has an issue with their spin welder. Brad says, “The fact that the tank sits between the axles makes every vibration jam the rigid Pex line down like a jackhammer on the valve fitting. Perhaps a flex line at that point would avoid the issue.”

But now, it’s all fixed and no more leaking!

Brad is such a pleasure to work with. He does good work, his prices are more than fair, and he really thinks about the best and most economical ways to fix things. We highly recommend Shiny Shacks!

Ketchikan | Waiting for Weather

Laura Domela — Tue, 06 Sep 2016 14:47:08 +0000

As (non)luck would have it, Dixon Entrance was completely calm during the two days we stayed to go to Kasaan for the Chief Son-I-Hat Whale House rededication, and now it looks like it’s supposed to be crappy the rest of the week. Tomorrow MAY be a window to go, but we’ll see. No need to push it.

In the meantime, we’re taking advantage of the good internet in Ketchikan to take care of a bunch of work things. We got some groceries, we met our boat neighbor, we shopped, I edited some photos, and we washed the boat (okay, more like rinsed the boat). So here’s a mish mash of all that.

Here’s a quick portrait I did of Haida Chief John McAllister in Kasaan:

Our boat neighbor, Jesse:

Jesse was great…super nice guy. He told Kevin all about his favorite fishing spots and showed him the tackle he liked best…he brought over some bourbon so we could do a shot together, and he enthusiastically let me take photos of him on the dock.

Let’s see, what else? Oh yeah…since last year I’ve been eyeing the work of Gene Chilton, a native Tlingit artist. I looked at a few bracelets last year but didn’t buy anything. This year, after meeting his nephew over in Kasaan, I decided to revisit the work, and saw a ring I’d seen before online…one that I really liked. The design is called Love Birds — an eagle and raven in gold, overlaid on a carved silver ring. We walked over to look at it in person and it was just as beautiful in person. So beautiful, in fact, that we both got them. Here’s a close up:

Native American Alaska Jewelry by Gene Chilton

" data-medium-file="https://i2.wp.com/www.riveted-blog.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/09/lovebirds_chilton.jpg?fit=300%2C225" data-large-file="https://i2.wp.com/www.riveted-blog.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/09/lovebirds_chilton.jpg?fit=541%2C406" loading="lazy" class="size-full wp-image-21359 aligncenter" src="https://i2.wp.com/www.riveted-blog.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/09/lovebirds_chilton.jpg?resize=541%2C406" alt="Native American Alaska Jewelry by Gene Chilton" width="541" height="406" srcset="https://i2.wp.com/www.riveted-blog.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/09/lovebirds_chilton.jpg?w=541 541w, https://i2.wp.com/www.riveted-blog.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/09/lovebirds_chilton.jpg?resize=300%2C225 300w" sizes="(max-width: 541px) 100vw, 541px" data-recalc-dims="1" />

Meanwhile, it looks like this outside:

We’re going to grill outside anyway. I’ve got some chicken wings marinating (in a mixture of Frank’s Red Hot, honey, cayenne, paprika, Worcestershire, melted butter, and salt). I made some homemade blue cheese dressing to go with some celery sticks and wings (mayo, sour cream, blue cheese, apple cider vinegar, salt, pepper, Worcestershire) and some of Deke’s wing sauce for dipping (Frank’s, olive oil, sugar, cayenne, garlic powder, Worcestershire, and pepper).

6am Tuesday morning update: Conditions look good (and like they’re the best they’ll be for the rest of the week), so we’re heading out. We’ll make the call at Foggy Bay whether to go all the way across Dixon Entrance to Prince Rupert. Will keep you updated!

Today in Ketchikan

Laura Domela — Tue, 24 May 2016 21:37:11 +0000

Airship Goes to Alaska 2016

This is a story about a bus ride.

Here’s us today: coffee, work, work, work, breakfast, more work, go to the grocery store, back to the boat, more work, watch cruise ships leave, more work. Later we’re going to have dinner over at the Bar Harbor Restaurant.

We rode the city bus down to the Safeway near the Bar Harbor marina, but we decided to grab the bus going the other direction. The city bus has a free shuttle that does a loop from the end of downtown to the plaza where the Safeway is, so we got the whole loop in by catching it going the opposite direction.

Our bus driver was a native…totally cool Tsimshian guy with great jewelry and a super dry sense of humor. We chatted with him about his family, where he lived, the woodwork/artwork he does, the silversmithing tools he gave to his grandson and how he’s going to pay for art school for him as a graduation present, and some other random stuff. We told him we’d stopped in Hartley Bay (the Tsimshian village in BC where we stayed on Day 14), and he said many of his relatives live there.

He asked us about our boat, and we talked about some places up here we have and haven’t been. Then, this cruiseshipper couple got on and asked the bus driver if he’d take them to the Ruby Princess at Berth 4 (just next to the City Floats, the stop where we got on). He said yep, he’d have them there by 4pm. (It was around noon.) They laughed and sat down in front of us, in the seats that face the center of the bus. They remarked how much larger this bus was than the one they took from the ship into town…that one was just a tiny little bus…and then they noticed they were going away from the ship. I said “This is a city bus, but it’s free, and it’s a loop, so you’ll get back to the ship” and not to worry. “This is a city bus?? Oh, okay? But it’s free? Well that’s nice!” Kevin asked them where they were from and they said Orange County, which is funny, because it was as if they expected people would know the name of their county. Not their city. Not their state, but their county. Now, I grew up in Orange County, so I did know their county, but I imagined someone (in Alaska) asking me where I was from. And what if I replied “Multnomah County” as if they should know where the hell that was?? Anyway, I digress.

They followed “Orange County” then with “Huntington Beach. California.” as if they’d been given the blank stare after the county name before. I said “Nice. I went to Huntington Beach High School. Grew up in Seal Beach.” Small talk ensued…”nice place to grow up…” “so close to the ocean…”

Then, they asked the bus driver, “Where are you from? You look to be of some Indian descent.” He said “I’m a Native.” They said “A native what? An Indian?” He said “No, I’m not from India. Columbus was lost and confused.” He patiently told them the name of his tribe, Tsimshian, and that he was also part Tlingit, and it was like they had no idea there were even any indigenous people here. It was crazy. They chatted amongst themselves a little more and he continued his conversation with us about different places to see, traditional canoes, etc.

Next, I asked the couple in front of me “So, what all have you guys seen since you’ve been in Ketchikan?” (even though I was pretty certain I knew how this would go). The wife answered with a chuckle, “Not much! Mostly the jewelry stores.” (OMG seriously??? Why on earth do people come to Alaska on a cruise to shop for stupid gemstones that no one has ever heard of, and that have nothing whatsoever to do with Alaska? It baffles me.) I’m totally cool though and ask her “So, is it a better deal to shop for jewelry here than where you live?” (Kevin was so proud of me.) She said yes, that whatever stone she bought earrings of was maybe a hundred dollars less than where she could get it at home, and they got a really good deal because they were from the cruise ship. I said I heard that all of those stores were actually owned by the cruise ship companies though…and she said, “Well, some of them, like Diamonds International and the Tanzanite places.” But apparently she thought she was shopping in a Native-owned jewelry store. She said “We’ve been here before though!” as if to excuse the fact that she’d only seen cruiseship-owned jewelry stores during her visit. I asked if they’d been down to Totem Bight State Park, or the Saxman Native Village before. Nope…like they’d never heard of those places. (Oh, but her husband just LOVES Alaska. That’s why they keep taking cruises up here.) I told her those places were definitely worth visiting and that you could get there by bus.

The bus pulled into the stop at the Totem Heritage Center and stopped. I told the cruiseshipper couple that if they had time sometime when they were here and didn’t want to leave the downtown area, they should check out this museum. There are some great exhibits with tons of interesting information. The husband noticed the totem poles out front and asked the bus driver if there was time to get out and take a quick picture. The bus driver said, in a loud booming voice “Nooooooo” and then smirked. The lady asked how long they’d be stopped here and the bus driver said “This is my 3 hour break.”

The husband got out and took a few photos the totems out front, and the lady said to the bus driver “We’re quite a ways away from our cruise ship!” and the bus driver replied, in the same loud booming voice, “GOOD!!!” (I could feel him winking at us as he said it, even from behind his dark aviator shades.)

At the next stop, another cruiseshipper couple got on the boat and the women immediately compared jewelry shopping stories, the woman in front of us moving her hair to show off her whatever-ite earrings.

We got off at the Safeway and thanked our cool bus driver for the ride. I shook his hand and he asked how long we’d be in town. I said we’d be bopping around for another day, then gone, then back for a week or so and that I was sure we’d see him again.

As we were moving to the front of the bus, the lady looks at me and asks “This’ll take us to our ship, right?” I said, “Yep, next stop.”

Best bus ride ever.

Snettisham Sockeye Hatchery

Laura Domela — Sun, 23 Aug 2015 23:11:00 +0000

Airship Goes to Alaska

Alaskan Sockeye Salmon is arguably the best salmon in the world. Some would say it’s the best fish in the world. Its intense color, beautiful texture, high oil content, and rich but subtle flavor make it a favorite among seafood enthusiasts. Because of the high oil content, it takes smoke exceptionally well, so smoked sockeye brings a premium in the retail market. Sure, King/Chinook and Silver/Coho salmon are better known and much more widely distributed. King is popular primarily because the fish are large and exciting for sport anglers to catch. King is noticeably fattier with more marbling than other species. Plus, it’s got the best marketing name. Coho is in a sweet spot of popularity, quality, and sportsman appeal. But ask most Alaskans what salmon they prefer, and you’ll often get “sockeye” as the answer.

A decent amount of Alaskan sockeye makes its way into the high-end retail market in the “lower 48”. It’s treated as a delicacy in finer restaurants, and we often see sockeye fillets in good fish markets in Portland bringing prices as high as $35/lb.

Kinda makes you want to head up to Alaska, grab a pole, and catch yourself some sockeye, doesn’t it? Well, not so fast there Ishmael. Sockeye have small mouths and feed on very small prey. They pretty much never strike at lures or flies, and really can’t reliably be caught with a rod and reel – unless you just happen to snag one, or your hoochie randomly cruises by a rogue sockeye with an attitude problem. The sockeye we get to eat are primarily caught through gill netting by commercial fishermen.

Over the past several decades, pollution, over fishing, disease and other factors have dramatically reduced the populations of all types of salmon, and particularly sockeye. With worldwide demand for the product constantly increasing, fish farming has emerged as a dubious practice for creating large amounts of fish meat quickly, but with serious consequences in terms of fish quality and environmental impact. Fish farms, along with the antibiotics, chemicals, and other factors that come along with them, are known sources of disease, pollution, and non-native species introduction that cause serious damage to native salmon populations. Plus, fish farming dumps large quantities of inferior-grade product on the worldwide market, dramatically impacting the price of wild salmon, with dire consequences for the Alaskan fishing industry.

Don’t confuse hatcheries with fish farms. Hatcheries are one of the best weapons we have in the quest to preserve and propagate native salmon species, preserve fish quality and the environment, and sustain the commercial fishing industry. The idea is simple – restore the native fish populations and offset some of the manmade damage to the natural habitat and spawning grounds by helping the returning fish breed, protecting and nurturing the fry until they’re ready, and then releasing them back into the wild where they can live normal, happy salmon lives until they’re ready to return, spawn, and die.

Sockeye are special, though. Just as they aren’t easy to catch, they are also very tricky to breed. Most other species of salmon can be hatched, held briefly until they begin to grow, and then released into the wild within a few weeks. Sockeye have to be held and nursed for almost two full seasons before they can be released into the wild and survive. That means a hatchery for sockeye has to be equipped to raise and care for fry/smolt for almost two years before they can discharge them – requiring significant additional amounts of labor and expense.

Snettisham Sockeye Hatchery sits at the head of Port Snettisham near the Speel river, about ten miles in from the entrance off Stephens Passage. It is adjacent to the Snettisham Hydroelectric Project, an electric generating facility that provides most of the electricity for Juneau, which is about 30 miles to the north. A small crew of around a dozen people operates the hatchery, with temporary seasonal staff that come in to help out in the busiest times. Snettisham is accessible only by boat or float plane, and there are no stores or other amenities. The nearest market is in Juneau, which is a several-hour boat trip (or a brief but expensive float plane trip) away. Two weekly mail flights comprise most of the in-person contact with the outside world. The Snettisham staff is pretty excited that, due to their proximity to the power plant, they have a decent land line, a modest internet connection, power, and fresh water, 6 miles of road -– luxuries that many remotely-located hatcheries do not enjoy.

Power plant inside the mountain:

Kevin and Darcy, the couple who manages the hatchery, have a Nordic Tug, read our blog, and when they found out we were in SE Alaska, they invited us to come by for a tour. Sweet!

We were pretty excited to meet the staff, tour the facility, and explore the surrounding environment. About 30 minutes after we entered Snettisham inlet, we encountered probably 30-40 gill net boats, stretching their nets across the channel in every direction. One fishing boat came out to meet us. The captain explained that most of the boats were setting their nets from the edge to near the center, so we could probably head down the middle of the channel swerving between the bright orange buoys and be clear of most of the nets. We slowed and watched carefully as we weaved Airship through the slalom course of gill nets for the next several miles.

It's beautiful in here:

As we rounded the last corner, we heard the voice of Kevin Steck – the manager of Snettisham Hatchery – on the VHF. He told us to come on into the harbor and tie up at the float (the one with the big “No Mooring” sign), and he’d come out and meet us in his skiff.

Kevin is noticeably excited. We have apparently arrived on a Red Letter Day at the hatchery. The fishing boats we saw on our way in will probably not be there tomorrow. There is an elaborate game of counting and allocating at play. The number of returning fish for various streams is counted and estimated, the amount of breeding stock required is calculated, and a decision must be made about whether or not to allow commercial fishing boats to rush in and harvest any surplus. Kevin was up late last night re-doing estimates and coordinating with the various organizations who regulate commercial fishing. It is critical that enough salmon be allowed into the natural streams to spawn and into the hatchery to establish breeding stock. Without those essential fish getting through, there will not be enough to breed the next generation. But, if too many fish come through, they are wasted and the fishermen miss out on their opportunity to harvest. The hatchery is owned by a non-profit company (DIPAC — Douglas Island Pink and Chum) that serves the fishing industry, so its whole reason for existing is to be sure that adequate populations of fish return every year to provide a sustainable sockeye harvest for the commercial gill netters.

Today, they finally (just barely) made the minimum return allocation. The authorities gave the green light, and dozens of fishing boats descended on Snettisham. Those were the boats and nets we picked our way through on the way into the harbor. Tomorrow, the fishery will probably close again and the boats will be gone. The window is extremely narrow.

We arrive at the dock and jump into a pickup, winding up the dirt and gravel road to the hatchery. Standing outside the entrance, Kevin introduces us to Darcy (his wife), Assistant Hatchery Manager and a marine biologist. They begin to explain how the whole thing works. Beside where they stand in their Xtratuf boots, we notice a foot wash. Very quickly, it becomes clear that every activity in the hatchery operates under constant maximum security alert level. The enemy is always out there, silent, invisible, waiting patiently for the tiniest misstep that will allow it to break in and destroy the entire year’s harvest. Nothing – not farming or pollution or politics or overfishing poses a bigger threat to the success of the hatchery, or to the sockeye population itself, than the virus.

IHNV or Infectious Hematopoietic Necrosis Virus is a naturally occurring but lethal (to the fish) virus that infects a large percentage of the salmon population. In the tight confines of a hatchery, it can rapidly spread – potentially causing the loss of the whole annual harvest. If you consider that there are only two Alaskan sockeye hatcheries (Snettisham and Main Bay Hatchery up in Prince William Sound), the loss of a single season’s harvest at one of those two hatcheries would be catastrophic.

The fish make their way up the channel toward the hatchery, guided by their mysterious natural navigation system, returning to the exact fresh waters of their birth. (Funny to think they're returning to this, isn't it?)

Some find themselves snagged in fishermen’s nets. Others are picked off by various predators. A persistent few make it all the way to the hatchery, where they swim and jump through a series of ladders and pens to a sorting area. Here, the hatchery staff selects the breeding stock for the next year. Males and females are culled into separate “raceways” where they will be held until it’s time to harvest eggs.

The hatchery needs about 6,800 fish selected as breeding stock. These 6,800 fish will produce around nine million offspring which will be raised at the hatchery and released into the wild the following season. Additional fish that make it into the hatchery are harvested and transported to be sold. The money from selling these hatchery-harvested fish is the source of revenue for the operation of the hatchery. Since the hatchery is a non profit corporation, its goal is to harvest only enough fish to meet the operating expenses. This lets the hatchery avoid competing in the market with the commercial fishermen, and allows it to be more selective in the quality of fish it sends to market.

The breeding stock that are selected this month (August) will be held in the raceways until October, when the egg harvest is done. Kevin and Darcy lead us into “the shack” which is the room where the eggs are harvested, fertilized, and disinfected before being moved into incubators.

Egg harvest is a grueling one-month task for the staff. An assembly line is set up in the shack. In the first station (the “kill” station) females are killed and their eggs are removed and placed into individual bowls. Males are killed and their milt or gametes harvested. Bowls of eggs from three females are fertilized with milt from two males (breeding stock are retained in a ratio of 3:2 females to males). The milt is placed into the bowls on top of the eggs, then the process is activated by the addition of seawater.

The fertilized eggs are carefully monitored and rotated through three separate disinfecting iodine baths. Any bowls showing the slightest signs of trouble are immediately discarded and destroyed. Great care is taken not to cross-contaminate between bowls. Since the virus is passed down from the female to the eggs, it is important to maintain separation of the batches from each female. If one batch falls victim, the rest are protected. Temperature and water quality are critical throughout this process.

Finally, the fertilized eggs are moved into incubators (still separated as much as possible to protect against cross-contamination from viral outbreaks). Each incubator has three water sources available: cold, hot, and natural. The cold and hot are carefully mixed with the natural to maintain the desired temperature for the incubating eggs.

Incubator tank:

During incubation, the fish are marked with a special code using a fascinating technique called “Thermal Marking”. Fish have an organ called the otolith which is a part of their sensory system. This organ has bands or “rings” (much like the rings in a tree trunk) that develop while the eggs are being incubated. Slight variations in water temperature cause these rings to be either light or dark. So, by subtly manipulating the temperature of the water, the hatchery can cause dark rings to be either wide or narrow, depending on the amount of time the temperature is held higher. These wide and narrow bands can be read like a bar code throughout the fish’s life. So each hatchery is able to mark a binary code on every fish that uniquely identifies its origin – without implanting any kind of chip or other tracking device. There is a worldwide database of codes, so it is theoretically possible to identify just about any hatchery fish by examining its bands.

Approximately four months later, the eggs hatch and by early May the fry are ready to leave the incubator and feed. The fry have to be fed by hand, by trained observers who can monitor how much the fish eat and can distribute the food so that all the fry have an equal chance at being fed. Initially, the baby fish must be fed (again, by hand – automatic feeders apparently can’t do the job correctly) sixteen times per day. Over the next 14 months, the fry are monitored and moved into ever-larger environments. It turns out that the baby fish actually like to be crowded. They feed and flourish better when they’re fairly tightly packed than when they are given more individual space.

Raceways filled with tiny sockeye:

With each move, the groups of fish are kept segregated to avoid passing the virus. If a tank shows signs of the virus, the entire tank is immediately destroyed. The staff working with the fish perform rituals right out of “The Andromeda Strain” – disinfecting themselves constantly, changing garb, walking through disinfectant foot baths at every entrance and exit. Similarly, the water flow through the facility is kept separate as it is used and discharged – making sure that the water that flows through one tank never finds its way into others.

Finally, almost two seasons after they were hatched, the juvenile salmon are loaded up and transported to various locations where they are released into the wild. The ultimate goal is to achieve a 10% return rate, where about one million of the juveniles release would return three or four years later as adults to spawn again. The juveniles are released in multiple locations to prevent a single natural problem from taking out the whole batch, and in order to study the methods and locations that result in the best return rates.

At this point, the 10% return rate is a distant goal, and the hatchery struggles to achieve even a fraction of that. Other hatcheries have it much easier – with species that are less fussy and locations that are much easier for returning salmon to reach. Still, it’s this extreme challenge that makes life at Snettisham exciting.

As we ended our tour, Kevin asked if we’d like a couple of fish. (Was that a trick question?) He donned some waders and grabbed and net and headed down to pick us out a couple of good ones. (He looks pretty badass here doesn't he?)

Here's Kevin and Darcy's 26' Nordic Tug, Tortuga, parked at the dock near the hatchery:

Kevin and Darcy took us back out to Airship and we invited them to come back for dinner on the boat later that evening. (We did not cook salmon…we figured they get enough of that.) I cooked and cleaned the two Dungeness crabs we caught at Taku that morning and we made some penne pasta with a creamy parmesan sauce with crab, and an arugula salad. It was a really fun evening! Kevin and Darcy brought us some gorgeous flowers from their garden, along with some fresh greens (kale, rainbow chard) and a just-pulled bulb of garlic.

We stayed moored at the floating barge for an additional two days to wait on the front passing through that was creating 6 foot waves in Stephens Passage, along with 35 kt winds, and tons of rain. First thing every morning, we heard the radio call from Kevin at Snettisham to the crew camped near Speel Lake “Good morning, have you got counts for me?” The crew is there with equipment that allows them to count the natural return to the creek that would lead them to spawning grounds at Speel Lake. We can’t hear the reply, our VHF antennas can only pick up the hatchery’s side of the conversation, but we can always guess whether the news is good or bad based on Kevin’s tone of voice as he replies “OK, thank you. Nothing new to report here.”

Touring Snettisham Hatchery and meeting the dedicated people who choose to spend their lives in this remote, beautiful, and challenging environment was a remarkable experience for us. Few people will ever have the opportunity to come here and see the tireless work these people invest every day in this gorgeous place. But, if you see “Alaskan Sockeye” on the menu or in the market, there’s a good chance that it started life here in Snettisham, lovingly aided by Kevin and Darcy and their crew.

Don’t eat or buy “farmed” or “Atlantic” salmon. It’s bad for you. It’s bad for the environment. It’s bad for the economy, and it undermines the hard work that these people are doing every day to preserve and nurture this amazing natural resource and the Alaskan fishing industry.

———–

And now, more photos from our few days at Snettisham:

A bunch of harbor seals out near the runway:

Thanks again, Kevin and Darcy!

Ray Troll: The Man, the Myth, the Ratfish

Laura Domela — Wed, 10 Jun 2015 23:47:40 +0000

You remember the ratfish incident in Port Harvey, right? (Click that link if you don't.)

Well the ratfish has crept into many conversations since then…the weird "girl grabbing appendage" (called a tenaculum) on its head that grabs with little Velcro-like hooks onto the fin of the female ratfish during mating, the long "graspers" that hang from beneath it to also grab the female ratfish during mating…there's a lot to talk about, about the ratfish. Ratfish belong to an ancient species of shark relatives–Chimaera–a very primitive group of fish dating back more than 300 million years.

Our flotilla group has had many conversations about the ratfish since qw pulled one up on our crab trap: (1) that we should have a flotilla burgee designed with a ratfish on it, (2) that the secret "Waggoner Flotilla 2015 Greeting" should be a bent forefinger at the forehead, mimicking the protruding tenaculum on the forehead of the male ratfish…you get the idea. Lots of silliness.

The other night while having dinner at the Bar Harbor Restaurant, Brigette stopped by our table. Brigette Ellis is a friend of Mark's and the owner of the Alaska Eagle Arts Gallery with her husband, artist Marvin Oliver. She'd been having dinner a few tables over and stopped by to say goodbye. She happened to come by during another one of the ratfish conversations, and someone said "Hey! Do you know about the ratfish?" She said "Yes, but the guy who really knows about ratfish is Ray." She returned moments later with Ray (I assume he was dining at another table).

"This is Ray Troll. Ray, they want to know about the ratfish."

Well. This could not possibly have been a better set up.

Ray pulled up his shirt sleeve to show us his ratfish tattoo.

Ray gave us a little info about the ratfish, and I told him I'd caught one on our crab trap at Port Harvey and showed him the pics from my iPhone. He enlarged each shot to show everyone the tenaculum on the male's head as he explained different kinds of ratfish, their relation to sharks, how they haven't changed in 300 million years, and then said there is actually a ratfish named after him. For real. Check this out.

Ray, demonstrating the "Ratfish Secret Handshake":

Ray Troll is an artist who has lived and worked in Ketchikan for the last 30 years, but his art reaches far beyond SE Alaska. You've likely seen his work. He calls himself a "fin artist" and his main subject is fish. The first time we ever saw his his work, it was the fish art t-shirts (years ago).

This is one of his most popular designs…(he's got a color version here as well):

But Ray's not just about art t-shirts. He has had many museum shows, a bunch of books, and he also has a band about to release their third CD. The band is called Ray Troll & the Ratfish Wranglers (of course).

In 2011 Ray and scientist Kirk Johnson (now the Director of the Smithsonian's National Museum of Natural History) were jointly awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship in the Science Writing category to support their book project called “The Eternal Coastline: the Best of the Fossil West from Baja to Barrow.”

So basically, Ray's kind of a big deal.

We chatted for a few minutes there at the table and Ray said we should come by his shop the next morning and talk fish. So we did. He gifted me one of his CDs (as a new member of the Ratfish clan) and I told him I'd trade him a portrait, so we arranged to meet at his shop (Soho Coho, run by Ray and his wife Michelle) on Creek Street yesterday afternoon.

I was a little early so I could look around the shop a bit (definitely worth going by if you're in Ketchikan…lots of good Ray Troll stuff, plus the work of quite a few other local artists). Ray arrived and off we went to his studio. We got to the parking lot and he gestured to a car and said "This one's mine." The license plate is RATFSH. I said "Of course it is!" :)

Ray's studio is a cool, contemporary vertical structure he designed and had built behind the home he share with his wife Michelle's, and it's got a fantastic view out over Tongass Narrows.

We hung out and talked for a bit first and Ray taught me some cool things about his current obsession: the Helicoprion, also known as the "Buzz Saw Shark". He's got some pretty cool props inspiration in his studio, and we played with a bunch of it.

Two of Ray's friends stopped by and he opened up a jar containing a preserved ratfish and gave the three of us an impromptu lecture about ratfish!

(Note the Buzz Saw Shark artwork in the background, and the ratfish hat on the table.)

Describing the tenaculum:

Until next time, little ratfish buddy. Back in the jar you go!

Ray said he was really trying not to ham it up too much. He was charming and warm and funny (and he totally hammed it up and it was great).

We call this one "Look Into the Whorl" … the visual of how the Buzz Saw Shark's teeth grow:

And here's the more serious portrait of Ray in his studio:

Meeting and photographing Ray was a blast. He dropped me off back at Airship, with one quick stop along the way to show me his very first piece of public art. On the side of the the Silver Lining seafood-processing plant you'll find Ray's first mural, dated 1984. He worked here on the "slime line" as a fishmonger when he first moved to Ketchikan, and traded that mural for some studio space in the adjacent building, where he was close to the fish (he could bring fish right up to his studio to draw them). He told me that the halibut in the mural are totally wrong though…they're facing left, but they're actually right-facing fish.

He knows that now.

Filet-O-Fish® and Portrait Photography

Laura Domela — Tue, 24 Feb 2015 03:17:38 +0000

Yesterday on our way to pick up some groceries in Port Townsend, we walked past a McDonald’s. In the window was a large poster advertising the Filet-O-Fish® sandwich, two bucks on Fridays. Admittedly, I’m not the target demographic for McDonald's (at all), but I was mesmerized by this photograph.

I said to Kevin “Could that food look ANY more processed!? The plastic bun, the machine-cut square of fish, the crayon-orange cheese, the marshmallow tartar sauce with perfectly placed pickle bits….”

“You know It took a photographer, a huge team of food stylists and art directors (and likely an enormous budget) to make that Filet-O-Fish® photo happen.”

As an advertisement, this felt like a total fail. I couldn’t imagine a Filet-O-Fish® looking any less appetizing than it did on this poster in the window of its maker. I assumed that the photography/money/art/food styling team would have instead aimed for creating an image depicting…well, something more appealing, organic, delicious, and less processed, plastic, precise.

On the other hand, as an editorial photo (or art!), this photograph of the Filet-O-Fish® sandwich was PERFECT. The factory-fabricated Filet-O-Fish® in this photo looks exactly like what it is. The photographer had somehow managed to even amplify the synthetic reality of the Filet-O-Fish®. You can almost picture the factory workers in white bunny suits extruding perfectly square fish filets from gleaming stainless steel industrial machinery.

It’s like when I take a portrait of a cool character with an interesting vibe and I’m able to show a heap of his personality in my zillionth of a second shutter click and subsequent print. This Filet-O-Fish® photograph oozes its processed personality perfectly.

I decided if I were the photographer, I’d be super proud of getting it “just right.”

As a professional portrait photographer, my philosophy centers on connecting with my subjects by creating a comfortable, casual environment where they feel open and at ease. I want to listen to their stories and study their mannerisms. I’d rather focus in on capturing a person’s unique characteristics than take a “pretty” or “flattering” photo that has no personality.

A few years ago I was hired to create a portrait of the (now defrocked) pastor/leader of the Mars Hill Church for the cover of a magazine. We were invited by his PR guy to attend (and photograph) his hour-long sermon before photographing him in the “green room” of his Bellevue, Washington megachurch. The original plan had been to set up in the green room during his first sermon, and then meet for his portrait quickly between his two sermons (my preference, since I was not so keen on the whole megachurch thing), so this was a bit of a departure.

His sermon began (picture spotlights and giant TV screens and a rock band opening act) and we found him to be a very engaging and charismatic speaker, but he preached values that I find highly offensive (misogyny, bigotry, and intolerance), and hearing him encourage this way of thinking so eloquently and persuasively to a stadium full of mostly young people was very disturbing.

After the sermon we set up in his green room and I felt pretty nervous as we waited for him to arrive. I find it so important to connect with the subjects I photograph, but I felt less than enthusiastic about trying to connect with this one. Turns out he was not a “connect with you” kind of guy anyway, at least not for the 15 minutes I spent with him. He was detached, dismissive, and not engaged at all (perhaps because I was a woman). There were about 20 people in the smallish room (including his whole family) and it was far too crowded and lively for me to do much but try to get the best “surface” shot of him as fast as I could (and by "surface" I mean "good photograph of this guy, but without having the normal photographer/subject rapport that I usually can cultivate during a shoot").

Back in the studio as I was editing down the work, there was one photo that stood out to me. It might not have been the most flattering portrait of him, but it felt by far the most honest. It accurately represented how he “felt” to me in person. He had a bit of a smirk. He was making was eye contact, but there didn’t seem to be any real connection with the viewer. His expression felt kinda like a shrug. This shot was definitely my favorite and felt the most genuine to me, so I submitted it to the magazine’s art director along with the other shots I thought were probably more flattering.

Guess which photo the magazine put on the cover? The Filet-O-Fish®!

Hanging with the Lummi Locals

Laura Domela — Sun, 13 Jul 2014 01:25:26 +0000

After our day exploring Lummi Island on our own, we met up with Leigh & Brian and headed over to their friends' place Artisan Wine Shop for some wine tasting (and some wine buying).

Rich and Pat are the owners of this place (Ryan was behind the bar pouring) and they're all great folks. This place is definitely worth a visit if you're on Lummi Island and like wine. They carry a bunch of interesting wines at great prices, and pour 5 different wines at a time for tasting.

After the wine shop, we headed over to the Beach Store Cafe (also owned by The Willows Inn) for dinner. The six of us grabbed a picnic table outside and ordered pizzas, salads, grilled asparagus, mussels, and some sweet potato fries. The food was great! The sun was still blazing, and since Brian and Rich didn't have hats they used their napkins until the sun went behind the trees:

Garden entertainment at the Beach Store Cafe was provided by a band called Bent Grass and they were a lot of fun:

At this point, Leigh and Brian said we'd now eaten at every single restaurant on Lummi Island…all three of them.

Oh, and if you're interested, the Lummi post office is for sale:

After dinner we headed over to a gorgeous place on the beach belonging to some of Leigh & Brian's friends, Judy and John, where we had some wine and met a handful of new people, then decided to stay for the sunset and bonfire on the beach. A little while later, they convinced us all to stay for the full moon too, so we ended up catching the 11pm ferry back to Bellingham (way past Leigh's bed time!)

Beautiful view from Judy and John's yard:

At the bottom of the 107 (or was it 104?) stairs to the beach where some of the crew had already built a roarin' fire:

Judy bringing an armload of blankets down in case anyone got cold:

Sunset:

More visiting around the fire:

I love this silhouette of Leigh:

Full moon:

It was such a fun evening and so nice of Leigh & Brian (and their friends) to give us the full Lummi Island experience! On the ferry home we learned from Leigh & Brian's friend Cash who works on the ferry, that we missed one restaurant on Lummi (a new one) called Sausburger. Damn! Next time, Lummi Island. Next time.

Comacchio Man

Laura Domela — Tue, 13 May 2014 19:53:16 +0000

I forgot to post this one in my last post, so I gave it a bit of special vintage treatment and now it gets its own post:

Bodega to Calistoga (and the Farmlet!)

Laura Domela — Tue, 25 Mar 2014 03:13:03 +0000

This morning we got up, did some work, and then rode our bikes out to Bodega Head in the fog. This shot was from our campsite:

View of Porto Bodega Marina from across the back side of the bay. One of those dots is our Airstream:

We rode out to Bodega Head and then on the way back stopped (again!) at Sput Point Crab Company. We ordered a couple of crab sandwiches (for breakfast), and took home a whole crab and four cups of clam chowder (because OMG this clam chowder is amazing!) They are super serious (and right) about the clam chowder being addictive.

A bit more work back at camp, and then we headed inland. First stop: Dave and Ann's Farmlet in Petaluma. We traveled with Dave and Ann (and Wynne! she's 2 now!) during last year's Canadian Caravan and it was so nice to catch up with them! They've got a beautiful farm just outside of Petaluma, with sheep, chickens, a rooster (a rooster that Wynne named "Chicken" … how confusing is that?), and a sweet and friendly pig named Petunia.

That's the chicken called "Honey" there next to to one of the Suffolk sheep:

Petunia:

Here's where we had lunch. Oh, and lunch: brussels sprouts and kale salad (delicious), brie, crackers, strawberries, and some cured pork from one of Dave & Ann's farm pigs…the ones who don't have names.

And here's Wynne, totally pushing the boundaries of this rocking thingy, but then watching carefully that she didn't go off the back edge. She's adorable.

After we said goodbye to the Dave and Ann (and Leslie and Chris, who joined us at the Farmlet today, and who we also met up with in Bodega Bay at Gourmet au Bay a few days ago) we headed into Calistoga to our next location. This is such a beautiful area! We set up camp, did some more work, and then took a before-dark bike ride to explore a bit (another 7 miles).

We ended up grabbing dinner at Bosko's Italiana Trattoria in town and it was really good: spinach salad, chicken marsala, and a rigatoni dish with chicken breast, peas, prosciutto, and a cream sauce.

I've been working out a plan for the week…one that works with our work week to include bike rides and wineries. Also…this place!!

TENNESSEE FAINTING GOATS??? We are SO there.

When the Regulars Take Control

Laura Domela — Sun, 16 Mar 2014 20:29:35 +0000

We left Portland late on Saturday (close to 7pm) and headed for the coast. We didn't have a reservation (or a plan really, other than we knew we wanted to be in Eugene to get our bikes by Tuesday). We figured we'd start at Devil's Lake State Park in Lincoln City and see if we could get a spot (Saturday night) and if not, try the next place down the coast. Devil's Lake had plenty of spots so there we stayed.

We unhooked and headed out to find some food and ended up at a place a little south on 101 called Macadangdang's. According to Yelp it had good reviews and was open until midnight. We were the only ones there (uh oh). We ordered some fish tacos and a burger to share, plus a couple of Monkey Face Porters, and everything was great: food, service, and oh yes, the ambiance.

The soundtrack to our meal: Foreigner, Journey, Heart, Bon Jovi, Fleetwood Mac, and some Tears for Fears and Prince thrown in for currency. We could have been in any beach town in the 80s (at 10pm on a Monday night) for sure.

It rained most of the night, and this morning we got up and headed out to get some breakfast and some groceries before continuing south. We ended up at another Yelp-reviewed spot in Lincoln City called Corner Cafe. The place was packed and busy (every table occupied), filled with happy couples and families with kids, and the breakfast was great. I had an omelette with spinach, mushrooms, bacon, and cheese, and Kevin had crab benedict.

Above the empy counter seating to my left there was a television up high, tuned to CNN with information streaming about the missing Malaysian aircraft (super-interesting, and one of the few times Kevin and I actually watched the television in a restaurant). About half-way through our meal a large gentleman lumbered into the dining room through what I thought was the kitchen (turns out they have another section of seating through that door), and sat himself down at the counter. Clearly a regular, he ordered some coffee and some food and made it a point to remind his server that he wanted regular tabasco, green tabasco, A-1 steak sauce, AND ketchup with his order.

Kevin and I kept eating and chatting, and I looked up once to see the man at the counter holding the television remote, pointing it up at the television, readying to change channels. Oh, the regulars. I glanced at the screen (above all the children's crayon-colored menu pages taped to the wall) and highlighted, just one click away from filling the big screen in this bustling cheerful family diner: Busty Coeds.

Noooooooo!! I looked at Kevin, eyes wide, as I imagined the scenario.

Luckily he continued on through the pages, passing by Shark vs. Dyson – The Real Truth, Miley Cyrus Takeover, Dallas Buyer's Club, eventually sticking on Fox Sports/NASCAR.

Oh, regulars.