9.23.2003
ICE FISHING
Sitting in the Coffeehouse, plugged into the wall, sipping wine and eating chocolate. Low light, mellow samba music, folks around reading and typing.
Sounds perfect, but I don't feel delighted. I'm still adjusting to my new morning work schedule - 5:30 am -2:30 pm. It's only been three days, and I'm missing the previous schedule, with mornings to myself before I went in to work at 11. (not to mention the later bedtime). I got into the habit of getting up with Erik for breakfast at 7:15, and then reading leisurely (right now I'm reading about Einstein and gravity), then sitting in my favorite spot, the science library, which has a beautiful view of the mountains turning pink in the early morning just beyond the sea ice all periwinkle and vast.
Now, I'm forced to wake up fast, and deal with people and their dirty dishes at 5:30 am. Yuk. But, the advantage is that I can come to places like this in the evening instead of working. Once I catch up on my sleep, I'll be in a better mood. (p.s. I'm still recovering from the rave on Saturday nite, which is another story I probably won't tell here. I will say that we were blessed to see the southern lights when we emerged from Puzzle Palace at 2am. They looked paler than I'd imagined, more like a stripe of a cloud than lights.)
I'm also bummed because the reality of 10 hours of intense physical labor for 6 days a week is settling in. And I'm going to be doing this for 5 more months?! My arms are now falling asleep at night, and they wake up tingling and numb. The doctor said it's carpel tunnel, so I've been taking 800mg of ibuprofen 3x day and wearing wrist braces day and night. And I'm going to be doing this for 5 more months?! I've started a stretching regimen that should help, and I'm learning to use my left hand.
Enough complaining -- just wanted to give you the whole story, not just the bright spots.
Last Friday was a special day -- I've made friends with the divers, and they took me ice fishing. Trips like these are hard to come by, require a lot of networking to get, and hard work once you get them.
First we had to dig ourselves into the storage area at the "old" aquarium where the supplies are kept. Kevin (the guy with the chainsaw) is the head dive guy (CB handle, "dragonfish"). After leaving town for our destination about a mile out on the sea ice, we radioed in to the fire house with our departure, destination, and estimated return. If you don't check back in, they send the search and rescue.
Believe me, I dug too, not just photographed.
Once at the site, our task was to drill 2 12" holes in the 15' thick sea ice. The "PistenBully" (small red tracked vehicle) came in handy -- both in transporting the fishing shack and as a scaffold to drill from.
I helped drill the first hole, and while the other diver, Phil, and the second helper, firefighter Jeff, were drilling the second, Kevin and I went over to Dive Hut 6 to get the "fishing poles" and bait. The fishing poles, "Thunder Bay" and "Lil' Kipper" are kids' poles pink and blue, perfect for the 4-5" fish we're aiming to catch for the scientists.
The most special part of the day was getting to see Lucy (my affectionate name for her), a giant pregnant seal, swim up the divers' hole to breathe.
Her breathing was deep and regular, reminded me of the sound of a whale blowing when she emerged. She looked at us with her huge round brown cow-eyes. Sarah, she reminded me of Viva or Baby, with her whiskers and melancholy straightforward gaze. Such a strong creature.
The most beautiful part was when she swam up toward the surface from the depths, or dove back down.
Once back at the fishing hut, Alejandro (he came along in the afternoon) and I buried the edges of the hut so that in days to come, snow wouldn't blow in.
By the time we were finally ready to fish, the holes had frozen up, so we had to drill again!
We jigged glow-sticks down the holes to tease the fish.
We never did catch any fish, but being in this landscape is certainly payoff enough.
Sitting in the Coffeehouse, plugged into the wall, sipping wine and eating chocolate. Low light, mellow samba music, folks around reading and typing.
Sounds perfect, but I don't feel delighted. I'm still adjusting to my new morning work schedule - 5:30 am -2:30 pm. It's only been three days, and I'm missing the previous schedule, with mornings to myself before I went in to work at 11. (not to mention the later bedtime). I got into the habit of getting up with Erik for breakfast at 7:15, and then reading leisurely (right now I'm reading about Einstein and gravity), then sitting in my favorite spot, the science library, which has a beautiful view of the mountains turning pink in the early morning just beyond the sea ice all periwinkle and vast.
Now, I'm forced to wake up fast, and deal with people and their dirty dishes at 5:30 am. Yuk. But, the advantage is that I can come to places like this in the evening instead of working. Once I catch up on my sleep, I'll be in a better mood. (p.s. I'm still recovering from the rave on Saturday nite, which is another story I probably won't tell here. I will say that we were blessed to see the southern lights when we emerged from Puzzle Palace at 2am. They looked paler than I'd imagined, more like a stripe of a cloud than lights.)
I'm also bummed because the reality of 10 hours of intense physical labor for 6 days a week is settling in. And I'm going to be doing this for 5 more months?! My arms are now falling asleep at night, and they wake up tingling and numb. The doctor said it's carpel tunnel, so I've been taking 800mg of ibuprofen 3x day and wearing wrist braces day and night. And I'm going to be doing this for 5 more months?! I've started a stretching regimen that should help, and I'm learning to use my left hand.
Enough complaining -- just wanted to give you the whole story, not just the bright spots.
Last Friday was a special day -- I've made friends with the divers, and they took me ice fishing. Trips like these are hard to come by, require a lot of networking to get, and hard work once you get them.
First we had to dig ourselves into the storage area at the "old" aquarium where the supplies are kept. Kevin (the guy with the chainsaw) is the head dive guy (CB handle, "dragonfish"). After leaving town for our destination about a mile out on the sea ice, we radioed in to the fire house with our departure, destination, and estimated return. If you don't check back in, they send the search and rescue.
Believe me, I dug too, not just photographed.
Once at the site, our task was to drill 2 12" holes in the 15' thick sea ice. The "PistenBully" (small red tracked vehicle) came in handy -- both in transporting the fishing shack and as a scaffold to drill from.
I helped drill the first hole, and while the other diver, Phil, and the second helper, firefighter Jeff, were drilling the second, Kevin and I went over to Dive Hut 6 to get the "fishing poles" and bait. The fishing poles, "Thunder Bay" and "Lil' Kipper" are kids' poles pink and blue, perfect for the 4-5" fish we're aiming to catch for the scientists.
The most special part of the day was getting to see Lucy (my affectionate name for her), a giant pregnant seal, swim up the divers' hole to breathe.
Her breathing was deep and regular, reminded me of the sound of a whale blowing when she emerged. She looked at us with her huge round brown cow-eyes. Sarah, she reminded me of Viva or Baby, with her whiskers and melancholy straightforward gaze. Such a strong creature.
The most beautiful part was when she swam up toward the surface from the depths, or dove back down.
Once back at the fishing hut, Alejandro (he came along in the afternoon) and I buried the edges of the hut so that in days to come, snow wouldn't blow in.
By the time we were finally ready to fish, the holes had frozen up, so we had to drill again!
We jigged glow-sticks down the holes to tease the fish.
We never did catch any fish, but being in this landscape is certainly payoff enough.
