Letters from Naknek Part 4

A Chronicle of a first processor season at Leader Creek Fisheries

Saturday, August 1st, 2020 (2:30 AM AK time)

Dear anyone with two vowels in their name, those with the letter T in their name, and those who don't frankly know how to spell their name,

I made it. I survived. I have outsmarted, outlasted, and outdone the fish. The salmon (try as it might) could not stop me.

I pause to note this letter will be short. That is because many of those receiving it will have opportunities very soon to talk with me about all this. It is also because typing is difficult now, much more than it used to be. This is a result of my fingers which I believe got sick of freezing in a pair of tunnel gloves, so they packed up the nerves and shipped them down to my legs to be stored until such a time as I got the good sense to stop trying to destroy myself. I think they don't quite trust I've stopped, and so my fine motor skills remain on retainer, to be called in at a later date. In the meantime, you get an email that took much more effort to write than previous ones, even if shorter.

Also, it may be because it's about three in the morning. I should probably sleep but all I plan on doing tomorrow is sleeping and anyone who wakes me up shall have to suffer through my emails of despair (which is punishment enough to dissuade all future attempts, I'm sure). Regardless, I'm taking the time to write this final letter to wrap up the Alaska saga now instead of later because my sleepy, late at night, numb-handed writing truly captures the spirit of my experiences. Method writing, in a way.

So what has happened since? Not much. My body has revolted in many ways, including numbing my appendages, chafing my legs, swelling my skin, opening sores, and sending an endless stream of complaints from my feet. It might have achieved its goal in stopping me from working and taking time to recover had it accounted for drugs, which have been keeping me functioning since last I wrote. Ibuprofen and caffeine. I've consumed more of those recently than I have in the past six years prior combined.

As for work, we slowed down a lot before stopping all together, and the last day I was there I spent cleaning the place up. It felt odd not to be walking into a freezing tunnel and even more odd to walk into that tunnel and not be blasted by cold wind. Naknek was kind enough to send me off properly by soaking me in melting ice so I wouldn't end the day feeling warm, though. The next day (which is now tomorrow) I was shipped off the airport and home bound.

Which is where I have arrived and now draw this letter to a rapid close as my blankets have never looked more enticing. It's good to be back and back I am.

Finally,

Jason/ Jackson/ Jacob/ Peru Hat Guy

P.S. I didn't write earlier because the WiFi, much like my sense of self awareness, practiced a sudden and efficient vanishing act part of the way through my employ. But I have some now, so ta-da!