People are often surprised when I tell them I can my own fish. The first time I canned fish, it was albacore, in California, and the instructions we had to follow made it needlessly messy and complicated. So here is a little photo essay of how I can salmon at home.

WARNING! Please be aware that there are hazards to this activity, and some of the risks are worth noting and making a strong warning about. Canners, operating under pressure, can explode if misused or if the valves and other safety features are not working properly! Also, on some types of canners, there is a pressure release valve that should be tested every year. Failure to do that could create unsafe pressure levels in the canner, or, fail to reach the adequate temperature to produce safe food. Don’t rely on just my instructions here! Read a book, or better yet, the instruction manual with your canner! If you insist on doing something boneheaded and blowing yourself up, or canning up a nice crop of botulinum, well, don’t come crying to me. I told you so!

Enough said…


fish flesh

I like to use wide mouth, half pint jars. Pints are too big, I think, and half pints make a bite-sized, less imposing gift for the faint of heart. Cut the fish so as to fit in whatever size jar you use, and carefully pack it into each jar, as fully as you can without going over the top of the jar. Throw a pinch of salt on the top of each jar’s contents.


packed into jars

Then carefully wipe each jar’s sealing edge clean, and put a NEW lid on, with a ring and screw it down snug.


jars ready to go

My canner is pretty much the cream of the crop: an All American, aluminum model 921. It has a weighted pressure control, rather than a petcock. I like the weighted kind better, but don’t lose your weight! It’s a drag to have a canner full of fish starting to warm up and then realize that you can’t find the weight. This canner also has no rubber gasket, which can fail. It has a carefully machined fit lid, and you need to dog the lid down evenly and snugly. Pack the jars in the canner. Use one of these metal layer separators on the bottom too. Put a couple of inches of water in the bottom before you close it up!

Once you get the canner packed and sealed up, put it on the heat, and watch for when it starts to vent steam. Once you get a good head of steam coming out of the vent for 10 minutes, then either close the petcock, or put the weight on, using the 10 PSI setting whichever you use. When the pressure comes up to 10, then start the clock. I use an hour and fifty minutes at 10 PSI.

When the time is up, turn off the heat and let it cool off. I usually deal with it in the morning, so it is good and cold when I have to handle it. I check and clean each jar as it comes out and then label it with a pen on the lid. Done!

If I figure an eight ounce tin of hand canned fish might go for 6 or 7$ at the co-op, then my 12# fish is “worth” about $100-120 if I had to buy it at the store.


in the canner

And I’m not done. I decided on this fish to take a couple of small fillets to make gravlax out of. I usually use coho for that, and have never made gravlax from a springer before. Should be good!


fillets for gravlax

Last but not least, I take the head and fins and all the other scraps and put it in the dutch oven with a little butter and cook it up on the stove. Salmon cheeks….. mmmmm…


fish head

On my eighth fishing day on the river this year, I finally managed to put a fish in the boat. It was a cold and rainy morning, but since the season is only open three days a week right now, I have been making myself get out there on every open day, for at least a couple of hours. Today, it paid off, after only an hour and a half at anchor.


springer!

Not only did I manage to hook a springer, but no seals or sea lions got to it first, AND it was a hatchery fish, meaning that I could actually keep it. This is the first time since 2006 that I’ve managed to keep a springer. Last year I got skunked completely, and the year before the seals got the one fish I had near the boat.

For you fish geeks out there, here’s the specifics:

I was anchored up, in 17 feet of water alongside Welch Island near Skamokawa. I was fishing a sliver and green striped K14 Kwikfish, at the very end of a strong ebb tide. Fish weighed 12#, troll dressed.


net and water

It’s been a long and grumpy winter for me, with lots of time spent on the phone and email trying to sort out a new way forward for our kayak center here in Skamokawa. It’s easy to lose perspective when you sit inside all day, and a couple of weeks ago, I finally started breaking away from the office to get out on the water. I put the skiff in the water on my birthday, March 10 and started fishing for spring chinook. So far, I haven’t caught anything, but it is early yet, and tomorrow is the first day of another three day opening, so maybe my salmon luck will change soon.


unaaq and norsaq

And yesterday, I finally got out in a kayak again, for the first time in weeks. I took out the Valley Q-Boat, which was loaned to me by Rob Avery of Valley Kayaks. It is a fiberglass, hard chined, Greenland style kayak. It seemed to roll pretty well, and for an 18 foot long kayak, was very maneuverable and nimble. Andrew took out one of the new plastic Valley Avocets and we paddled down to Three Tree Point and back. I took the harpoon along just for fun, and found that I’m sadly out of practice, compared to what I was able to do with that last fall. Sigh…

Enjoy some pictures!


springer fishing


skiff and triangles


north shore


Valley Q-Boat


starting out

So, back last November and early December, my friend Brian and I spent a few days in kayaks and my skiff, pulling clean spruce and cedar logs out of log jams on the Nehalem River. But how to get them out of the river and back to the shop, where we could mill them up?


bucking the big Spruce log


bucking the big Spruce log

The nearest good boat ramp was over 3 miles downstream from where the logs were tied up, and Brian’s idea was to have a kayak race, where teams would each be assigned a log, and the first ones to get their log past the highway 101 bridge over the river would be the winner.

So, On February 7th, with a strong outgoing tide in the afternoon, a groups of kayakers converged on Brian’s shop in Nehalem and he laid out the plan. There were prizes offered, including a skin on frame kayak, a well used copy of “Kayaks of Greenland” and a quart of excellent beer.

Within an hour, all the kayakers were putting in at the upper boat ramp, having already shuttled a mess of cars to the dock in Nehalem. Andrew Elizaga came along in one of Brian’s adirondack guide boats and filmed the whole thing, his movie can be seen here on Youtube.


Andrew filming

When we got to where our logs were tied up, we separated into teams and I started passing out logs as I untied the raft. Some people got enormous huge logs, some got smaller logs, and it was evident pretty quickly that a close competition was not going to be had, as those with lighter cedar logs quickly took the lead, and the team of three paddlers with the monster butt log struggled to stay with the group. Brian switched teams around a bit and he and I rotated around between the teams that had bigger logs, helping keep the group together.


Dave and Diana


Bob and Reg

We passed a motor boat and some folks out on their decks as we got closer to town and got some strange looks and odd comments here and there.

Finally everyone made it to the dock and we tied up the logs, and then paddled back upstream to Nehalem, pulled out on the dock in town and wandered over to have some pizza and beer. And that was the kayaking race.


tying up at the dock

The next day I came back with the truck and a trailer and Brian and I spent the day loading the logs onto the trailer and taking them back to his shop, where we finally figured out how to unload them without getting stuck in the wet grass. This one was the biggest one, at eighteen feet long and 34″ in diameter at the small end. It was a one log load, scaled at 950 board feet on the Scribner scale and we guessed its weight at about 5,000 pounds.


Big spruce log

There are still a few small logs tied up there, and once we have them pulled out and moved to the shop, I will move the mill down there and saw it all up into lumber, some of which will get built into kayaks, and some of which will get built into a new back porch to replace the one I lost to snow load on Christmas day. Stay tuned!


dump truck

After living here for eight years, I am finally getting the hard rock road to my barn that I have been needing for all of that time. My barn is up on a small hill above the house and the driveway. During all but the driest months of summer, it has been impossible to drive a vehicle up there due to the soft ground and/or wet grass. All the time that we had sheep and had to deal with stocking up on hay, we had to get it in the barn during the driest parts of summer, or end up carrying one or two bales at a time up there by hand through the winter. I decked some logs up there one summer, and then by the time I was ready to mill them, it was the wet season again and I couldn’t drive the mill up there until the following summer. Now that I have no livestock, I could use the barn for other things except that I can’t get to it most of the year.

But all of that will be in the past by tomorrow afternoon. The guys from Longtain Construction in Cathlamet arrived at 8:30 this morning with two dump trucks, a bobcat and an excavator and by 5 PM they were almost finished with my new road. And all of the dirt that had to be excavated got used to create a new level spot for parking the boat trailers next to the shop.

Special thanks are due to a old friend who financed this extravagance. Thanks!


bobcat

What happens when all that snow melts and then it rains hard for a few days?

Flooding, that’s what. This is the state highway between my house and town, about an hour after high tide. Yes, I did drive through it, and yes, it was a little bit sketchy.

Maybe a plague of locusts will be next….


flood waters


flood waters

None of these have been blogged before. No words today, just pictures. Enjoy!


buoy


Skamokawa Creek


floating wood


tiny newt!


Unimog


farm cat


Andrew


Astoria anchorage


ancient cedar tree


snail shell


apples!


hardie hole


ladybug


piling


number 35


reflected pilings


resting boats


pilings


Moon and Stars


water and rocks


icicle


Skamokawa Center in the snow

What a year it’s been, and what a month December has been!

Notable events for December include the bankruptcy and closure of Skamokawa Center, where much of our kayaking work was based, and where I have worked managing the paddle center for five years. In fact, five years is the longest I’ve ever worked for the same organization. Columbia River Kayaking, the LLC that the guides formed in 2007, is now scrambling to find ways to replace that income and hopefully keep some of our programming going in some other form.


the end of the back porch

All that snow that we were playing in back on December 20th? Well, an awful lot of it is still here. In fact, it snowed almost continually through Christmas Day, which resulted in our back porch roof collapsing under the weight of about 20 inches of snow on Christmas morning. The light-duty, almost flat roof was never intended to hold up that kind of weight. On Christmas eve, it had started to thaw and rain a little, but during the night it switched back to heavy snow. I did manage to save the front porch roof by climbing up a ladder with a snow shovel and clearing it off. Thankfully, the Subaru wagon did remarkably well in this weather. With it’s all wheel drive and studded snow tires, I was never unable to go where I needed to go. The only place I got stuck was in my own driveway, trying to break out of the deep snow that had accumulated the night before.


snow machine

My driveway is finally clear down to the pavement though, even though the rest of the land is still covered. I hiked up to the back of the land this afternoon and was still finding snow deep enough to go over the tops of my rubber boots. The heavy snow did a lot of damage to the fruit trees and shrubbery near the house, and I wanted to see how the forest had fared. There wasn’t a lot of damage up there, mostly small hemlock and spruce trees bent over and some breakage in the wild cherry and alder. My Port Orford Cedars and Redwoods will need to be dug out of the snow and propped back up again, though. I’m hoping I can save them.

There were elk tracks everywhere, and evidence of them resorting to eating the usnea lichen off of the trees wherever they could get to it. I’m sure they will be glad when this snow finally thaws away. At least one of the feral bunnies is still alive though, having holed up in the empty barn and successfully foraged under the trees.


snowy trees


***********************

Yesterday was the annual Christmas Bird Count. I was feeling a little under the weather and didn’t go out for a full day, but went out for three hours, and paddling about eight miles. There were a lot of duck hunters blasting away in one of the most likely sloughs, so I avoided that one. And there was a cold east wind blowing, too, so most of the little perching birds stayed low and out of sight. But I still managed to get 19 species, mostly waterfowl and a few raptors, and I hauled a pile of trash out of the tidal area of Welch Island. These bald eagles let me paddle right up underneath them.

Well, that’s that for 2008, there’s only a few hours left now. Here’s hoping for positive change, health and prosperity in 2009!


high tide on Welsh Island


eagles


pyranha micro 240

So, it doesn’t often snow this much in Skamokawa, but today I’ve had several inches of snow on the ground for days already, and more is predicted to arrive this afternoon. It is already about seven or eight inches deep in the pasture.

Alice and I went out to do some sledding, which usually gets done with garbage can lids at my house. When it rarely snows, you don’t own a proper sled. So we were scrutinizing the garbage cans again, when I suddenly remembered the whitewater kayaks! Perfect sledding substitute!


Alice at the top of the hill

It took a couple of passes down the driveway to get the snow nicely packed down, but then it worked very well. Too well, almost! On one pass Alice ended up under a rhododendron bush covered in snow, and on another pass she ended up in the ditch by the road, having just missed a small alder sapling.

Already being a kayaker, I knew a little better how to steer by leaning and bracing, but having no paddle, I used my bare hands for bracing, which worked alright until my last run, when I hand braced into the blackberry bushes on the side of the driveway… and then ended up flipping over at the bottom while leaning a little too hard trying to avoid the ditch.

All in good fun…and I’m still picking blackberry thorns out of my hands.


zooming downhill


at the bottom


me, going fast

In breaking with my tradition of not getting around to blog entries for days or weeks after the event, I am writing this one up the very next day!

Last year was the second annual Deception Pass Dash, a kayak race staged at Deception Pass in northern Puget Sound and last year was the first year that I volunteered to be a safety kayaker for the event.


kelp

For those who have never seen it, Deception Pass is a narrow slot of water between the mainland and the northern tip of Whidbey Island. On every tide change, the water rushes back and forth through this narrow slot, which has a small island in the middle, dividing the pass into two passageways, one much smaller one named Canoe Pass, and the larger side known as Deception Pass. There is a tall bridge connecting the mainland with Whidbey Island.


at Deception Pass

On a large tidal exchange, like those near the full or new moons, the current speed in Deception Pass can reach over 7 knots, and the turbulent water attracts kayakers from all over to play in the standing waves and whirlpools.


racers

The race was organized for the first two years by Seattle Raft and Kayak, but this year it was handed over to the Outdoor Adventure Center in Seattle for them to run. Considering the last minute change in organizational personnel, things went very smoothly.


getting ready to race

The day began with arriving at Bowman Bay, just north of the pass. Safety boaters had their meeting at 8:30 and then headed out to their various stations around the course. Racers had their meeting shortly after, and the race began at 10 AM.


Bowman Bay lauch

The race starts in Bowman Bay, goes around Deception Island, and then heads back east to the pass, under the bridge through Deception Pass, around Strawberry Island just inside the pass and then out through Canoe Pass. Before returning to Bowman Bay though, racers have to go back around Deception Island again. This course is about 6 miles, and is timed so that if you are reasonably quick, you can get around Strawberry Island at slack tide, and ride out through Canoe Pass with the ebb. If you are not so quick, you may miss that timing and end up paddling on a treadmill under the bridge, as the ebb tide builds and attempts to push you back out to to sea.




racers

Last year I was at Strawberry Island, and the only rescue that needed to be effected happened right there, when one of the racing surfskis cut to close to the rocks and snapped off his rudder, capsizing him. I rescued him and his craft, and he continued on with the race, rudderless. This year, I took that same station, since I was the only person there that had worked at that location before. But this year, there was no action in my area at all. All the surfskis stayed clear of the rocks, and our station was uneventful, but we could hear on the radio that the Deception Island station was much busier, with many capsizes and troubles out there, since there was a brisk southwest breeze and 3 to 4′ seas at the beginning of the race.


kayak and kelp

After the last racer went past, we packed up and followed him back through Canoe Pass, where there was a nice standing wave pattern building up. I stopped to play briefly and then headed out a little ways towards Deception Island to see what all the fuss was about. Another paddler who I had met there last year came along and we were both thinking the same thing: that we wanted to go out and play, but neither of us felt we should go alone. So we went together.


Canoe Pass and bridge

The seas had gotten larger since morning, and now were looking more like 4-5 feet, with stronger wind and a strong current. When we got around to the southwest side of the island, we found ourselves in an area where the waves were getting very big and close together and were interacting with the waves reflecting off of the rocky island as well. It was an exciting area to be in, and I took a lot of pictures, most of which were blurred from water on the lens. Right after I took this one, I dropped the camera in favor of the paddle, and the wave broke right in my face, shoving my kayak backwards quite a ways. What fun!


ruh-roh!

After some of that, we headed back to the bay and portaged the kayaks over the little sand spit and headed back over to Canoe Pass to see if anyone else was over there. It was just the sheriff’s deputies on the jetskis, and we played around in the standing wave for a little while, before finally heading back over to the launch to see if we could find some food. All in all, a good day, and no snow like last year!


portage

Once again, the camera was all wet and gave me another pile of almost useless, out of focus pictures. This one though, was kind of cool the way it was, so I kept it. Coming soon: a somewhat grumpy and not entirely glowing review of the Pentax Optio W60. There is a lot about it that I like, but it falls short in some significant areas.


Jonathon and the waves

PostScript:

check out the totally awesome “stern cam” video of the race at Andrew Elizaga’s blog here and some stats from the race at his blog here.