WolfLarsen
06-21-2006, 11:24 PM
ALASKA ADVENTURE
(THE KIND THAT GETS YOU KILLED)
From Unalaska, Alaska the novel
By
Wolf Larsen
Chapter 2
The next morning the flight from Seattle to Anchorage seemed normal enough. There were stewardesses and soft drinks and buckle your seatbelt signs and all that. The plane went up and then it went it down. Everything seemed normal enough.
Then I got to the gate for my flight to Unalaska. Nothing would ever be normal again.
A bunch of dudes stood and sat around the waiting area to Unalaska. The air around them was a mixture of gloom and desperation. Everyone’s face seemed to say, “We’re going to the worst place on Earth!”
“After one month on land and you’re already going back to sea!” one dude was saying to another. “How did you manage to spend all that money in one month?!? What did you do? Snort a line of coke as long as the Earth’s orbit around the sun?? Or did you just spend the whole month in a whorehouse without leaving??”
“I had a good time,” came the reply.
“I certainly hope so!” came the response.
Then the announcement came. “We will now begin boarding flight number blah blah blah for Unalaska/Dutch Harbor.”
No one moved.
Five minutes later there was another announcement. “If you have a ticket for Unalaska/Dutch Harbor please board the plane now.”
Still, no one moved.
I had never seen anything like this before. Usually people all pile up like a herd of cows before the door.
“This is the last announcement for Unalaska/Dutch Harbor. All Unalaska/Dutch Harbor passengers must be in line at this time.”
A few people stood up – groaned – and headed to the door. Others headed to the door like there was some huge burden on their shoulders. “Is it that bad??” I thought. “It can’t possibly be that bad!” I thought.
On the plane I noticed that the only women were stewardesses. I asked the guy next to me, “Are there many women in Unalaska?”
“Don’t worry,” he assured me, “there’s one behind every tree.”
I breathed a sigh of relief.
When the plane started to land I looked out the window, and I couldn’t believe what I saw. There were no trees. Not a single one.
It was the most barren place I had ever seen in my life. The South Side of Chicago didn’t even come close.
The South Side of Chicago has whole empty blocks where only one abandoned building is standing, but Unalaska was much more barren than that.
I had never seen anything like it. The island was volcanic mountains sticking up out of the ocean all over the place. It was beautiful! But it was the most brutal kind of beauty that I had ever seen in my life.
People from our boat met us at the airport.
“Are you Jessie?” some dude with a clipboard asked.
“Yes,” I said. “But people call me J”, I lied. I was starting a new life for myself, so I was starting a new name for myself.
“Is that ‘J’ as in J-a-y?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said. New name. New life. It was that easy.
We all got into a van. The van drove. Outside it was gray and dreary and miserable. The weather couldn’t decide whether it wanted to snow or rain, so it settled on some miserable cold wet in between. The van stopped at the Alaska Commercial Company. Everyone got out to buy something except me. It was going to be a long time before anyone would have a chance to go to the store. I stayed put in the van because I didn’t have any money to buy anything.
Everyone got in the van and the van drove. No one said much.
The boat was big. We walked up the plank. They showed us our bunks. I was in a room with eight guys. Then we went to the galley.
The guys were all talking about how much fun they had had on their vacations.
“I had so much fun I probably got AIDS,” said one laughing. He was just a little fat and very greasy looking. The kind of guy that can eat fifty hot-dogs in a row at the state fair competition.
Almost everyone appeared to be white trash. There was some trash from other races thrown in the mix too. I was all ears.
These guys – most of them – had been on vacation for months and months. They had walked off this boat with a nice chunk of cash, and had done whatever they felt like every day, until they ran out of money. And now they were back to get some money to go back on another nice long vacation. The idea of walking off this boat with a big chunk of money excited me! Although what I planned to do with all that free time and liberty was a bit different than these others.
The boat steamed out to sea. Everyone spent most of their time sleeping. They wanted to sleep now because they expected to be real tired all the time real soon.
Within a day or so there was a horrible roaring sound. It woke me up. I went into the galley. I asked someone, “What’s up? What’s all that noise?”
“Haulback,” came the response, “get ready to go to work”.
I went to the change area. People were putting their work clothes on, which were thick rubber boots and thick plastic raingear pants (that went from our feet to our chests), and thick cotton gloves which we put plastic gloves over, and then up to the deck we went.
We went out on deck to watch the haulback. A huge round mechanical drum struggled and creaked and groaned with the difficulty of pulling up the tremendous load up out of the bottom of the ocean. As the big roller pulled and pulled there was endless banging and creaking and more banging while the machine roared and roared. When the net came up it was huge! There were so many different kinds of fish and many of the fish were struggling and fighting – their mouths were opening and closing and opening and closing as they suffocated in the air.
Copyright 2004 by Wolf Larsen
That was an excerpt from my novel Unalaska, Alaska. I worked as a seasonal worker in Alaska for nearly 12 years. If you would like to read more you may go to:
OOps! I can't tell you. Have a nice day you all!
(THE KIND THAT GETS YOU KILLED)
From Unalaska, Alaska the novel
By
Wolf Larsen
Chapter 2
The next morning the flight from Seattle to Anchorage seemed normal enough. There were stewardesses and soft drinks and buckle your seatbelt signs and all that. The plane went up and then it went it down. Everything seemed normal enough.
Then I got to the gate for my flight to Unalaska. Nothing would ever be normal again.
A bunch of dudes stood and sat around the waiting area to Unalaska. The air around them was a mixture of gloom and desperation. Everyone’s face seemed to say, “We’re going to the worst place on Earth!”
“After one month on land and you’re already going back to sea!” one dude was saying to another. “How did you manage to spend all that money in one month?!? What did you do? Snort a line of coke as long as the Earth’s orbit around the sun?? Or did you just spend the whole month in a whorehouse without leaving??”
“I had a good time,” came the reply.
“I certainly hope so!” came the response.
Then the announcement came. “We will now begin boarding flight number blah blah blah for Unalaska/Dutch Harbor.”
No one moved.
Five minutes later there was another announcement. “If you have a ticket for Unalaska/Dutch Harbor please board the plane now.”
Still, no one moved.
I had never seen anything like this before. Usually people all pile up like a herd of cows before the door.
“This is the last announcement for Unalaska/Dutch Harbor. All Unalaska/Dutch Harbor passengers must be in line at this time.”
A few people stood up – groaned – and headed to the door. Others headed to the door like there was some huge burden on their shoulders. “Is it that bad??” I thought. “It can’t possibly be that bad!” I thought.
On the plane I noticed that the only women were stewardesses. I asked the guy next to me, “Are there many women in Unalaska?”
“Don’t worry,” he assured me, “there’s one behind every tree.”
I breathed a sigh of relief.
When the plane started to land I looked out the window, and I couldn’t believe what I saw. There were no trees. Not a single one.
It was the most barren place I had ever seen in my life. The South Side of Chicago didn’t even come close.
The South Side of Chicago has whole empty blocks where only one abandoned building is standing, but Unalaska was much more barren than that.
I had never seen anything like it. The island was volcanic mountains sticking up out of the ocean all over the place. It was beautiful! But it was the most brutal kind of beauty that I had ever seen in my life.
People from our boat met us at the airport.
“Are you Jessie?” some dude with a clipboard asked.
“Yes,” I said. “But people call me J”, I lied. I was starting a new life for myself, so I was starting a new name for myself.
“Is that ‘J’ as in J-a-y?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said. New name. New life. It was that easy.
We all got into a van. The van drove. Outside it was gray and dreary and miserable. The weather couldn’t decide whether it wanted to snow or rain, so it settled on some miserable cold wet in between. The van stopped at the Alaska Commercial Company. Everyone got out to buy something except me. It was going to be a long time before anyone would have a chance to go to the store. I stayed put in the van because I didn’t have any money to buy anything.
Everyone got in the van and the van drove. No one said much.
The boat was big. We walked up the plank. They showed us our bunks. I was in a room with eight guys. Then we went to the galley.
The guys were all talking about how much fun they had had on their vacations.
“I had so much fun I probably got AIDS,” said one laughing. He was just a little fat and very greasy looking. The kind of guy that can eat fifty hot-dogs in a row at the state fair competition.
Almost everyone appeared to be white trash. There was some trash from other races thrown in the mix too. I was all ears.
These guys – most of them – had been on vacation for months and months. They had walked off this boat with a nice chunk of cash, and had done whatever they felt like every day, until they ran out of money. And now they were back to get some money to go back on another nice long vacation. The idea of walking off this boat with a big chunk of money excited me! Although what I planned to do with all that free time and liberty was a bit different than these others.
The boat steamed out to sea. Everyone spent most of their time sleeping. They wanted to sleep now because they expected to be real tired all the time real soon.
Within a day or so there was a horrible roaring sound. It woke me up. I went into the galley. I asked someone, “What’s up? What’s all that noise?”
“Haulback,” came the response, “get ready to go to work”.
I went to the change area. People were putting their work clothes on, which were thick rubber boots and thick plastic raingear pants (that went from our feet to our chests), and thick cotton gloves which we put plastic gloves over, and then up to the deck we went.
We went out on deck to watch the haulback. A huge round mechanical drum struggled and creaked and groaned with the difficulty of pulling up the tremendous load up out of the bottom of the ocean. As the big roller pulled and pulled there was endless banging and creaking and more banging while the machine roared and roared. When the net came up it was huge! There were so many different kinds of fish and many of the fish were struggling and fighting – their mouths were opening and closing and opening and closing as they suffocated in the air.
Copyright 2004 by Wolf Larsen
That was an excerpt from my novel Unalaska, Alaska. I worked as a seasonal worker in Alaska for nearly 12 years. If you would like to read more you may go to:
OOps! I can't tell you. Have a nice day you all!