Wisdom of a college drop out (part three)
As sunset approached I had an insane mixture of anxiety and excitement. On that day, I was what many experienced fisherman considered greenhorn, which means I had never lived or worked at sea before. This can be a gamble for a lot of skippers as they never know how someone will respond to the challenges and demands of the ocean waters, the long days, the physically demanding work.. Everything had led me to this point, I took my first step onto the boat, a portal within my initiation. I was greeted by the other deckhand who had been working with Bruce for some years. I revealed to him that it was my first time fishing and he got me started on grunt work by scrubbing out the inside of a large hole in the middle of the boats deck which held all the fish that were caught. I descended the ladder down and got to work with a bucket of soapy water and a hard bristled scrub brush.
Some hours later I emerged to a dark sky but a large spot light illuminating the entire deck. I came out and started chatting with Ben, the other deckhand. He was giving me advice on how to clean the deck of blood after a long days work. There was a bucket with a rope around the handle. I wrapped the rope around my wrist and through the bucket over the back of the boat to pull in 5 gallons or so of ocean water. “don’t wrap the rope around your wrist” I was told. “If the boat is moving, the bucket could catch a wave and if you are not able to let go of the bucket, you will surely be tossed overboard.” By this point, I had heard several stories living in Homer about people going overboard, and the challenge it is to get someone who ends up deep in the frigid ocean, back into the boat safely. I heard stories of some people who didn’t survive and how dangerous fishing was. It was that same night, before even going out to see that I tripped at the edge of the boat, I fell flat onto my back, on the dock, looking up at the sky. I heard Ben laughing, “yeah, that’s not going to fly when we are out on the open water dude!” I was so incredibly embarrassed, and it sent my nerves through the roof. This would had been a nice point for me to exit the game, but I stayed in it. I figured, If I could pull this off, I could do anything.”
You can probably see it in my face. Those first few days on water were nauseating. Imagine being in constant motion and struggling to find a focus point to help keep equilibrium.. It was challenging to simply stand up and keep balance as the ground below constantly rocked and moved, let alone getting pain staking physical labor done at the same time. “When the going gets tough, the rough get going” a saying I learned by a fellow mate at the homeless shelter I lived in when in Homer. I hardened by mind to persevere beyond the voice telling me to stop, and my body begging me to give it a rest. I literally puked while I was picking fish off hooks. My hands bled from miscalculations between quick picks, weighted hooks, and my hands. I had at least two times that I broke down and cried. I romanticized the idea of just jumping overboard and ending it… up to that point in my life, It was the hardest thing I have ever willingly put myself through. Each moment that I found my balance and steadied my mind, the more I knew I had just leveled up.
I will never forget that first time coming back to land. The boat was beyond full of fish and it had only been 4 days. We were busting out 18+ hours on the deck each day, now it was time to get paid. We tied the boat off at the dock of a fishery and the cranes sent down the Brailer Bags to fill with fish and send back up for processing. It was the upper echelon of the industry. I felt proud of myself. When I stepped off the boat for the first time and was on flat, solid ground again I experienced something interesting… My mind and body had gotten so used to being at sea, the ground felt like I was moving. My equilibrium took a meal and a beer to sort me out and remind me that I was back on land. After dinner that night, I walked back to the boat and had several people stop me and give me props for my work. “Dude, what!? Everyone is saying that you were out there puking all over the fish. Keep it up!” It quickly dawned on me that word had gotten around and I was receiving heavy weighted respect from experienced deckhands and boat captains. Even if it was for a moment, I had become legendary on Kodiak.
I stuck out the remaining season of cod and rockfish. It was hard work, long days, I puked, I bled, I cried. It was nothing short of a defining moment in my young adult life. The perseverance to the challenges shaped my character as I found out more about who I am and what i’m able to endure. Here I was, getting paid to do something that many people would spend thousands of dollars to do with a guide on a charter boat. I was basically picking dollar bills out of the water, all day long. Soon the other deckhand left the boat for a salmon fishing season and I was left with just Bruce and I. Soon, the work mellowed out and it became more of a couple buddies on a boat.
Bruce was a pothead but respected my decisions to not partake while the boat was moving - he had heard that I went overboard on land. He shared a desire to get involved in there emerging cannabis markets and talked about getting me involved in blowing it up on Kodiak Island and down in Washington where he lived when he wasn’t fishing for the summer. Everything between the people I met in the shelter, the guy who was watching my dogs, a CNBC special, and pure observation told me that this was probably going to be the next big thing. Besides that, I think when people work as hard as commercial fishermen, a desire to provide an easy way to produce income can be amongst the discussions when dreaming of the off seasons…
By the time summer solstice rolled around, we barely experienced night time. The sun sorta went down considering it was far enough south from the North Pole that the sun just kinda coasted beyond the horizon before rising again. After the Cod and Rockfish season concluded, Bruce cut me a check and told me to keep in touch and to consider working with him at any capacity in the future even if it wasn’t fishing. The transition for me was seamless, I walked away from his boat and within a day or two I was on a single engine Cessna to a more remote area of Kodiak to catch the back end of the salmon season. From that site, I sent my mom a letter telling her I was buying her a flight to Homer to meet me to celebrate one year living in Alaska and the option to drive down through Yukon and British Columbia where I would flyer her out of Seattle as I continued south to see what my friends were up to.
I eventually made my way back to Homer. Each hike I took with my dogs was different. I experienced my life in a completely new, and expanded way. I spent time in contemplation of what I had learned over that year:
I came to understand that challenges are defining moments and those who consistent and persistent will experience fruits within and beyond those challenges.
Having dropped out of college, I realized that it’s not what you know or have studied, its more about who you know and how good you are at arriving at the right place at the right time.
Every single time, optimism will out pace a pessimistic outlook and will make life more enjoyable
Life is short. From time to time it is worth stepping outside of the familiar and trying on new ways of being.
At the end of the day, the only thing we can truly take with us is our lived experience. A priority toward adventure can open up a whole realm of possibility and expanded perspective. Options and opportunities often reside within newness.
So at the end of it all, I ended up with a good story, a new perspective, and an increased sense of self that could have never been substituted for traditional education. When I left and saw those mountains in my rearview mirror, I realized that every choice I made helped co-create the experience that I had. Every victory and challenge was actually neutral and my outlook toward my current experience was just as valuable than the actual experience itself. Soon, I flew my mom into Alaska, I packed my things, said my good byes, and went on a memorable road trip with a woman who not only gave me “The law of attraction, for dummies” book, but had also given me life.