So, wow, that Alaska thing iso-late-ed. What do you do with all your spare time... you know, when you're not fishing?

First: this is me having a little chuckle at the idea of spare time.
Second: oh, well, there's lots to do. So, here are a few of the time-wasting activities I do in my "spare" time:

1) Site-specific brake-dancing. It's a little known fact that Alaskan fisherpeople are far and away the best brake-dancers. The reason this is little-known fact is that our dance is intricately connected to the work we do. In other words: no boat, no dancing. This makes competitions to settle bi-coastal rivalries a little more difficult to arrange, and in the long run, has led to the increasing decline of our ancient traditions. This particular tradition--for those of you interested in Alaskan Native history--was started by the Inuits, who as a people were fairly peaceful (other than their fucked-up myths with women eating cheating sons with their vaginas) fisherpeople. These Inuits started site-specific brake-dancing on their kayaks as a method of encouraging the sun to come back in the winter by "amusing it into arrival." Anyhow, it's very very old and always carried out in mock-humor.

In the current era, brake-dancing is considered an exercise of agility and balance under extremity of conditions. There are the "gunwhale spins," the "mj-crow's nest cloud-walkings," the "whale-back dives," and the "get-aboard grooves," which are our personal specialty out in Viekoda Bay. Here's me demonstrating my signature move:



And here's k-rag demonstrating hers:


The toughest part about fisherperson site-situational brake-dancing is the rating system developed to assess each person's achievement. It's basically called the "Bum's Up" rating system, and this instance, k-rag earned herself a "Two Bums Up" rating. Good on her!


2) Mending net. Ohmygod, it's so much f-ing fun! Imagine hours and hours of grannyknot-grannyknot- halfhitch-netknot-halfhitch-
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Whoop it up baby.


3) Pitching Fish. This is another ancient expenditure of spare time, and something we excel at in a big way. I mean, I bet I could pitch three times as many fish as you over a period of thirty minutes. Go on, I dare you to ante. And truthfully, it is this sassy sport that accounts for those great hulking muscles you see along my shoulders and down to my abs. I'm pretty disciplined at this sport and practice it about three times a day for roughly a half-hour each time. I have dead accuracy when aiming at the lower bins, but when I'm pitching even with my shoulders, my accuracy goes down, which makes me sad. But I think my dedication is the real reason why I always come back moderately buff and force everyone to feel my abs.

Back to the origins of this sport--again another Alaskan Native deal, only the Aleuts this time. It started as a game very similar to the "egg toss," in which an item is tossed back and forth over a widening gap until someone drops the item--in this case a decomposing fish--and gets themselves a little slimy. For the Aleuts, this was a part of the early courtship period. And having carefully watched some reenactments of this ritual, I can tell you it's hardcore; they don't just toss those dead salmon, they shoot them off like catapulted corpses... wham!

4) Transmogrification.

This is me:


This is me too, only I've moved up in the world. I'm very excellent at starfish conversion... it has something to do with me identifying so heavily with the tube feet:


Weeeeeee... I'm the one right in the middle, falling off a little:


This is harder, I have to say, but again, all those suction cups speak to part of my soul (not to mention the ink). This is me:


Feels so soft, waving waving, wooosh, I'm an anenome!


This is a very good day, because it's really hard for me to barnaclize. There, you can see me near the front:


This is my favorite, but it's pretty time-consuming and although I do have a little spare time, it's not great amounts. So, I only get to transmogrify on the low-catch days. Sigh. I really miss it.