What to do with a half day off....

He says:
A day off (mostly) to do what we please.  Tuesday? Saturday? Whatever.  We made breakie for the clients, and they were on the boat and headed offshore to fish all day. We quickly geared up and loaded the sea kayaks for a day of exploring. Beautiful blue skies with just thin wisps of high clouds, a glassy bay, and no particular place to go...

Icy Bay is a kayakers heaven. Protected water with just a small swell from the ocean. In the summer, the wind is light and variable. Tidal currents are manageable everywhere we’ve been so far. Coves, islands, glacial pack ice choked fjords, and incredible mountain views. Paradise.

As we paddled NW from a potty break on Gull Island (aptly

 named...what a racket!) my mind wandered to the absurdity of certain cliches. “Life is short” for instance. I won’t argue semantics... life certainly can be short, and is truly too short for some. But I think the cliche speaks to those who plow through life with blinders on. Baby’s have very long days... always processing, always learning new information. The dullness of the lives we often choose forces us to stop processing new information, perhaps because we know that if we truly were aware of all of the shitty choices we’d made, we’d hate ourselves.

Life is long. There is plenty of time. I’d bet life seems like a short night of sleep to those sleepwalking through it. Believe me, I’ve done my share of sleepwalking... and I’m not judging those who do. But what would it feel like if you woke up from that slumber to find yourself old, gray, and dying. Horror? Sadness? “A lifetime of regret?” Yes, yes, and yes... I imagine.

As I paddled, I imagined the life paths that might have been. And all of the choices that lead to this place and time...

I work as a chef at a remote fishing lodge in Icy Bay, Alaska. My commute is 20 paces...takes 35 seconds, and there are no tolls. The days are long, the work is very satisfying, and the clients are interesting, amicable, and always in love with this place. They are on vacation, relaxed, and it is contagious. I am getting paid to do something I love, in a place that is breathtakingly beautiful. I work with my love, Elizabeth, and Moby sleeps directly under our kitchen floor. I can poke my head outside, whistle, and he is there in seconds. I can slip him a treat, have a stick throw, or take him swimming anytime of the day.

The glacier ice is getting thicker now, and I need to focus on navigation. Seals pop their heads up to investigate our alien presence. The ice crackles and drips and pops. Elizabeth pulls up along side and asks for a kiss...

“What’cha thinking about?”...

“Not much”

The Morning Commute

She says:

I wake up each morning as Jeff is crawling out of bed.  I still have my eye mask on letting me believe its the middle of the night and so I go through denial, hoping Jeff is just getting up for a midnight potty run and I still have hours of sleep left.  But Jeff never gets up in the middle of the night, no denying it, its morning.  

I never admit that I am not a morning person, but when you lay out the fact of just how much I despise getting out of bed... the only reasonable conclusion is that the morning and I are not the best of friends.  So I lay there as Jeff gets ready, slowly succumbing to the morning and the duties that lay ahead.  As I hear Jeff close the "Condo" door and listen for the pitter pater of Moby's paws on the porch... it's my cue, it's time to get up.  

So I emerge from bed, minimize my morning routine to changing clothes, brushing teeth and throwing a winter hat on to hide my bed head.  I tell myself as soon as the clients get on George's boat you can go back to bed.  But right now, it's time for the morning commute, 20 paces to the Lodge and I'm at work!  I occasionally get slowed down by the morning doggie greeting, a little head petting and ear scratching for two Chesapeakes, a Mastiff and Moby, sure beats the 1.5 hour commute over the Tappan Zee Bridge.  

I go into the kitchen and pour myself a strong cup o' joe, I find I am drinking a good 3 - 5 cups a day up here, that can't be good for a person, but I think I will let it slide till I get into the routine a bit better.  Time to make some breakie, bacon and eggs, french toast, eggs benedict, pancakes... what's your fancy?  Thus far Jeff has been the breakfast man, he cooks up a mean over easy egg and so he tends to the griddle while I set the table and get all the other fixins set for breakfast.  

The clients slowly emerge from their cabins, stumbling into the kitchen, barely functional till they get their caffeine fix.  As we set up for breakfast I try to figure out which native plant will make the best garnish to accent today's eggs florentine??

By the time the clients have finished breakfast I'm consumed with what to make for dessert that evening and the other chores of the day.  That promise I made to myself to crawl back into bed as soon as the clients leave is a fleeting thought.  

Now I am dreaming of breads to bake, salads to marinate, hikes to take, kayaks to paddle and adventures to chase.  

The day is mine, be it in the kitchen or out on the frigid waters of Icy Bay...

Settling in

He says:

So, the first wave of client checked out today.  Elizabeth and I rolled out a week of pretty fine dining, considering the new kitchen, mixed bag of supplies, and totally new dynamic.  There were challenges, to say the least.  Elizabeth made a really great breaded baked Halibut, but instead of breadcrumbs, somebody had refilled the breadcrumb container with brown sugar and spices (smoke rub).  Needless to say, the breading was a bit to sweet.  We scraped and saved... but it was an unhappy moment.  

Then there was the great dinner roll incident.  I'd spent the morning making a milk bread dinner rolls, and the came out great.  I put them in the warming oven to hold (you can see where this is going)... That's right, pre-heating the oven for baked clams, Elizabeth nuked my rolls.  I was not happy, but you shake that stuff off.  They made great bread stuffing with the Arista di maiale (pork roast with a rosemary-garlic rub) later in the week.

And then there is the great bread experiment.  Sandwiches all week for the clients, made with fresh home-made bread.  We've both made bread.  We've done this before.  But we have been swinging and missing with the sandwich bread.  Finally, we got experimental.  Lots of single loaves, with various recipes.  As it turns out, a good loaf of white sammich' bread needs plenty of sugars to feed the yeast during its second rise up and over the edges of the bread pan.  One T yeast, one T sugar... the rest is pretty much gravy.  Do not taunt the bread during the second rise... it feeds on fear (and anger)!!

So, the clients caught fish, lots of them.  We had seafood this way and that.  Raw, marinated, smoked, grilled, baked, deepfried, panfried... dips, appetizers, breakfast, lunch, and dinner.  I may never buy seafood in the store again.  Fresh fish can not be substituted for... yes, it matters that much.  I am now a fish snob.  I admit it, but there is nothing I can do about it now.

Today is all about cleaning and preparing for the next wave.  Lots to do...

A Dog's Life...

Mo says:

The beach is fun.   There are so many rocks in the bay, I may never get them all on shore!  I play with my new friends Zeus, Cali, and Chester all day.  I sleep under the house, right under the kitchen, while Pop and Elizabeth work.  Sometimes the mosquitos bite my nose, so I bark at the door and they let me in the lodge.

I swim all the time.  I shouldn't swim late at night, because I get cold lying in the grass.  The food here is great.  I got some fish and french fries in my food today.  The fish here is great.  Much better than tuna in a can!

Pop brushed my teeth today.  I was too tired to fight it.  We saw a Grey wolf yesterday.  It was a long ways away, but we all smelled it long before the humans saw it.  What would they do without us?

Work and The World

He says:

The kitchen work has been great!  Organized and stocked, we are turning out some fantastic meals!  Arista di Maiale with home-made bread dressing, Halibut Seviche on fresh fried corn tortillas, and strangely enough...the Chicken Marsala got rave reviews!!  We are very busy these days, learning lots, and making up for what we don't know with hard work and improvisation.

It's funny how the news seems so far away.  The death of George Carlin, a cruise ship sinking, more hedge fund perp walks on Wall St.  The "fake world" seems a million miles away, and yet this very remote place relies so heavily on the infrastructure and mobility provided by those institutions.  Life up here is the tip of the spear, so to speak, and without the ability to move people and stuff cheaply and easily, the standard of living here drops precipitously.  

Which is not to say that life here, and the lodge operation, could not quickly reorganize at a new, nearly equal, level of comfort.  It would take some serious re-tooling, but it could be done. Alternative energy sources: solar power, wood heat and cooking, even a wood fired, steam powered electrical generator!   

Feeling far away.  As we settle in to our routine, entertaining, cooking, socializing with new groups of clients, it is hard not to feel the remoteness of this place.  Elizabeth and I went for a kayak yesterday, and as we paddled away from the lodge (population 14 this week) we felt like we were finally getting away from it all!!  Truly isolated and alone, mid-bay, 100 miles from the nearest town.  

We were peaceful, quiet... small.  I guess our sense of isolation and wilderness will necessarily adjust to the new 'norm'.

The Solstice

she says:

So last night was our first officially meal with clients and I am pleased to say that George and Jill (the owners of Icy Bay Lodge) seemed more than pleased. Jill asked where we learn to present food so well... “From eating out in New York?” was my reply.  I hope that answer wasn’t too haughty, but I do feel like being a bit of a foodie in New York has helped my food presentation sense as well as my culinary skills.

For our first meal we served up some fresh Icy Bay clams, which I stuffed and baked Rockafeller style. (a big hit)

The main course consisted of marinated lamb chops, armenian rice pilaf and stewed dill tomatoes and green beans. And... for dessert cornmeal berry cobbler with fresh whipped cream yum yum!

One thing I am finding about cooking all day is that I’m never hungry, I can’t decide if my appetite has subsided or if I am subconsciously snacking all day and not realizing it. Well I guess my waistline will tell in time.

We had a clear sky for sun set, which I think was around 10 pm (well that’s when the sun tucked behind the coastal mountains) though as most know, there really is no night here, its goes from dusk straight to dawn. The clear skies made for a cool crisp evening, which translates to the perfect snuggle weather! And with that GOOD NIGHT!

To the old grounds...

he says:

So we have been here for a little less than a week and I am still pleased with our decision to come back. I have no idea when the sun actually sets, but it never gets dark and tomorrow marks the summer solstice (the longest day of the year! Can’t wait)

Anyway in our short time here we’ve taken a hike to our old tent camp where we stayed during the Alaska Experiment. It was strange to go back, the tent platform weathered and covered with bear claw marks. The neighbors never come to visit until you up and leave town! The smoker, cold storage and the commode were intact, but surrounded by the inevitable progress of spring-time: strawberry bushes, grasses, and a few new alder shoots.

A strange combination of a seemingly distant experience mixed with what seems like premature nostalgia. It was only 9 months ago that we landed on that beach, ready for anything. At the time we thought the Alaska Experiment would test our physical endurance... as it turns out, the experiment, the test, came in a far different form. Alaska, it seems, would test out willingness to settle for the ordinary, our intolerance for missed opportunities, and our love (and patience) for one another. We hope the test is graded on a curve...we have a lot to learn. :)

The long way back...

she says:

So after driving 3,300 miles from Brooklyn, NY to Eugene, OR, stopping at every ridiculous statue that was advertised along the way and any and all national parks along the way, couch surfing at various friends places or cramming 2 rather tall adults (with shamefully plentiful waistlines) and one very talkative dog in the back of a Chevy Tahoe...

After seeing old friends again (for Jeff) or meeting new ones (for me)...

And after crating Moby in Portland so he could make the last leg of the journey in the luggage section of the airplane with us.. (and Jeff and I being able to hear him trying to ward off the baggage handlers from our seats in business class) We have finally arrived back in ICY BAY!

I'm  pretty sure Moby thinks he has died and gone to heaven. Watching him looking out the windows of the bush plane as we took off was priceless, you could almost see him trying to compute what the heck was happening as the trees got smaller and smaller and clouds passed our windows. 

But we are back on Icy Bay and it feels good.  We have better accommodations this time around: Heat, running water, flushing toilets, electricity and 2 ovens!! Oy Oy!  Let the baking commence.