Fish, Fur and Film

Fish, Fur and Film by Jeff Varvil
article copyright

In 1867 at the urging of Secretary of State William Seward, the United States paid $7,200,000 or about 1.9 cents per acre for the Alaska territory. We, (like I was there), purchased 586 thousand square miles of the modern state of Alaska. That’s a big number; it’s like, what a billion dollars to me. I know it must be a lot, but its more than my limited brain can comprehend. Of course, I am also having a hard time comprehending the $200 it takes to fill up my motor home every hundred miles. Only five hundred miles left until we hit our destination of Valdez. Yes, I said Valdez. It’s a real place. The one that brings up memories of a bottle of Vodka, a drunken ship captain, an ugly ship, a reef, and one gazillion gallons of oil dumped into Prince William Sound. Not a great combination if you were a sea otter.

I had an old 1977 Ford LTD I used to call the “Valdez.” It was not a very aesthetically pleasing vehicle either. It also used to leak oil to, hence the name I gave it. That old girl however could hold a 16-gallon keg in the trunk. Ok, I got a little off track there. I am jolted out of my random thoughts by the squeal of the brakes as the big motor home pulls over to the side of the road to a designated motor home nesting ground. This is a deserted area as it is early spring, and the annual motor home migration has not started yet. The doors of the battleship open, and we all unload, wishing Alaska was now the size of Maine.

We are here to film the new TV show Alaska Outdoors Television. It will debut on FOX this September. Yours truly and Doc Johnston are two of the hosts. The plan is to meet a long time buddy, Josh, in Valdez and spend three days, shrimping, fishing, and hunting black bears. The producer, Tim, is a friend and a local chap who grew up in Valdez and has come home after many years in LA to film what he terms as “Real Alaska television.” No celebrities or fancy lodges, just a working mans show. “Finally, a real man’s show, for men!” I yell out as Doc laughs and begins to shave his chest. Tim tapes a microphone in between his pecks. Then it was my turn to be initiated into television. We put on our best smiles, which for both of us is easy, climb on to a rocky point where the TV crew is waiting for us. And as Paula and Randy say, “Welcome to Hollywood.”

Upon arriving in Valdez, Doc and I met Josh at the dock. He gives Doc and I the customary head nod as we approach as handshakes in our circle are avoided like the plague. Handshakes are reserved for church or meeting someone new. We have all been friends for fifteen years. Josh pears over our shoulders at Tim and the equipment he is carrying, giving me a wary smile as if to say, “what’d you get me in to?” Tim proves to be more Alaskan than a Californian. And the two quickly become friends. We fire up the twin 200 hp Hondas and the 26’ foot Kingfisher heads for open water. Josh had dropped shrimp pots early that morning so I take control of the throttle and head to the waypoint on the 12” Garmin display. The water is calm, almost flat, and the temperature is a balmy 58 degrees, which in Valdez, is about as nice as it gets. The boat flies through the water as if on wings and we leave the little town as we are swallowed up by the reflection on the water by the enormous Alaskan landscape. The avalanche shoots spill down to the water from 3000-foot peeks and the bears have already begun to feed on the new green vegetation on the south side slopes. Doc taps me on the shoulder and smiles as Josh is having his microphone taped to his chest. Josh opted for the Duct tape to chest hair approach, which will cost him later!

I slide along side of the first of five shrimp pots. Josh hooks his first buoy and feeds the line to his electric pot puller. When you’re shrimping in 600 feet of water, these will save your arms and back a lot of work. On the other hand if you need the exercise, well, pulling in five pots in from Davey Jones Locker may be for you! We get about 35 shrimp per pot on average and a few crabs. The cameras roll, and all goes as planned. Of course the crabs are sent back from where they came from and the shrimp are put in to a bucket for later consumption. We eat a few raw on the spot for the camera. Josh, Doc and I now pow-wow on the back of the boat and decide what the game plan is for the next three days. We decide to sleep in the morning, check the pots in the afternoon, halibut and rock fish until 4 P.M and then chase bears all night. This was all decided in about 30 seconds. That’s the way men make decisions. Wrong or right, come hell or high water, (both of which I have seen) we were going with the simple stupid plan.

Pages: 1 2