Ground Zero and Back

Caribou at the Pebble “Exploration” Site | photo of a photo by Ben Knight

Dear Reader,

Northern Dynasty has been kind to us, flying us from Anchorage to the “exploration site” in Iliamna, putting us up in a lake front condo, feeding us for the duration and taking us on a helicopter tour of the site in the pouring rain. They even allowed ben all the candy bars he could stomach – and that is saying a lot.

The deluge of rain didn’t make for the best shooting conditions while in the midst of our heli tour, but it was interesting plop down on the tundra and stand on top of what ndm’s geologists claim to be the largest porphyry gold/copper discovery ever in the history of digging up minerals from the subsurface of earth. They were a bit superstitious though and wouldn’t actually come out and say it was going to be the “biggest one,” but from the gleam in their eyes you knew it was getting pretty damn close.

We had always thought of the Pebble Mine as a gold mine, but it turns out it is now a copper mine that happens to also have billions of dollars in gold in it as a lucky byproduct. Pretty sweet huh? In our interviews with the NDM Public Relations folks and their site geologist manager the word gold was never once uttered. The focus was on the copper and the world’s insatiable hunger for it, oh and the national security benefit that a Canadian mining company could bring to the US once the mine goes through and billions of tons of copper, gold and molybdenum are extracted to sell in the global commodity markets. They did mention the fish though and promised the two could peacefully co-exist with “no-net loss,” which despite having this point clarified; is still a bit confusing to me.

We have had an extremely hard time tracking down folks who are avid supporters of the mine here in Iliamna, despite our greatest efforts and the town being “pro-mine.” It is not so much a town but a road with a few houses on it with an airport alive with the thunder of constant helicopter traffic over-head. Everything on the exploration site is delivered by helicopter; this means all 7 drill rigs (which penetrate down to 5000 feet), tons of environmental scientists doing private data collection studies, camp supplies, tents, trash, tundra pads (to put the drill rigs on), are flown in and out via helis. It is crazy, but the tundra is looked after and there are no roads on the site. It is all very orderly and well managed.

All the folks that we spoke with that are pro mine seem to have a far away look in their eyes or are talking about payday, whether it is their actual paycheck or the development of the mine site. They seem to lack the lust for life that other communities we have spent time in relish in. There seems to be a lack of soul, like they have sold out and can’t remember what it is like to be awed by their surroundings or nourished by their community. Some described it as only being about money and how can I get more than my neighbor.

The only passion we were able to evoke in our interviews was from the several geologists we spoke with who were blown away by the hugeness of the discovery and with their connection to what could be the biggest discovery of its kind – ever. All the geologists travel the international copper/gold mining circuit, helping mine the Tibetan Plateau, the highlands of Papua New Guinea, South Africa, and the Frasier River Valley of BC – you know all the shitty places out there with populations that lack political clout, I mean ahhh.

And now the headwaters of the Nushagak and Upper Talarik creek a mere 19 river miles from Alaska’s only great lake – Lake Iliamna. The geologists don’t seem to ponder the idea of the greater ecosystem or social impacts, only the grade of the ore and the economics necessary to make extraction a reality. It is all very theoretical to them or classified as not “their department.”

We were fortunate enough to find a local pilot to fly us around the site in his super cub – what an amazing experience. We followed Upper Talarik Creek to the mine site, did a bit more investigation of the drill rigs, and then descended down the South Fork of the Koktuli and in the process spotted a grizzly bear midstream and soon after a herd of over 600 caribou. The landscape is alive with life and with water. The hydrology is mind numbing. In every direction there are creeks, rivers, ponds and upwelling springs. The tundra is a like a giant sponge with an invisible lake below the surface. It will be challenging to contain tailings and not pollute the groundwater or surface water in perpetuity if a mine were to go through, but wait there will not be any “net loss” so I guess there is nothing to worry about. We can just wait and see.

Many of the locals in the area truly believe in the regulatory process and feel that there are just too many rivers and salmon for the mine to come in and fuck up. Again and again we hear from them that they need the jobs and they are thinking about it in terms of economic opportunity for their kids, right after they get done telling us the importance of salmon as the critical part of their cultural identity or complain about the cost of basketball sneakers in Anchorage. This will be a modern mine they say, just look at the Fraiser River in BC, 9 mines lining the river, clear cuts and a cement factory in town, but still the salmon come back…Wait and see they say. Wait and see. The regulatory process will work. We need the mine and we need the salmon. Wait and see…

Ben is left eye dominant just so you know | Photo by Travis Rummel 

From Dilly to Illi

Walking the plank at drill site #4 | Photo by Lauren Oakes

I could see Ben and Travis were falling apart with me back in Juneau. I mean, really guys, I take off for a few, and you just stop working?! What is this, vacation? No worries, that mystery TU girl (please, I would really one day prefer “Producer”) is back to make sure bush pilots still open their doors to us and all the gear, Ben gets his steady flow of sugar, and the saga of telling the Bristol Bay story from so many perspectives continues. The car rental place in Dillingham already knows us as the team that sleeps in the rentals as well so we’re all set up with for our return, a van this time with the seats even removed. Oh joy. Have we mentioned that we could use some more sponsors? Thanks to Northern Dynasty (yes, I am truly and honestly 100% thanking Northern Dynasty) for the hospitality… the most beautiful flight of my life flying from Anchorage to Iliamna through the astounding Lake Clark pass (so narrow, so striking, rich and mountainous, glaciers extending far, deep, illuminating the world blue), a day at the “Project Site” (Correction, Mine site) and a lovely lakeside place to eat and sleep.

Iliamna is still deep with me, so intense for so many reasons. It hit me hard to be there, constantly intellectually questioning, listening to many stories and different perspectives, wondering what we can do when I see so much in motion at Pebble, a tremendous project already — well managed, well staffed, growing every day. I found myself thinking of how many people in the world dream of visiting Lake Iliamna, how many people perhaps save for years for a trip to these waters — and the irony that the company that provided me my opportunity is the very one threatening it. For a moment I wished I could just look at that lake and not wonder about its future, and I guess I was envious of all those who have that experience, who don’t know about the track record of mining and that one is moving right along right there in the heart of this magical place.

I’ll censor myself a bit on this chapter and let Ben and Travis unveil the reality in time. Besides I know Ben gets the laughs. I will say, however, that I think Peter Pan Seafoods mess hall (Yum, Wild Bristol Bay Salmon) has the Northern Dynasty mess hall WAY beat (although Ben really appreciated the unlimited amount of packaged candies and processed snacks). And I also think that if the “Project Site” is really just a “science research center” right now, we (TU, The Department of Fish and Game, heck the public) should all get to see that information, not later but now. I’ll also say that most interviews in Iliamna I witnessed felt like canned promotion dictated by very very careful phrasing, not the free-speaking, from the heart core values and lifestyles unveiled by so many others interviewed along the way thus far. I wish we could capture so much of what is said off camera, even by locals employed by the mining company, clearly questioning what is already changing.

I am grateful to the passionate geologists in the core room (where they box up core samples to be analyzed for mineral content) for clarifying this is a gold mine too. NDM now speaks of it as a copper mine, with a gold bi-product. I presume that way they can try really hard to quiet the public debate about gold watches vs. salmon forever and instead talk about strategic metals and the growing technology demand vs. salmon forever. Neither one sounds much better to me.

Thanks to Tom at Rainbow King Lodge for helping us coordinate some flying time. And for opposing the mine next door. He wittingly notes it’s either run a premier fishing lodge on the shores of Lake Iliamna or start up the Iliamna Bush Company to entertain the mine workers, hard choice. Ben and Travis mounted the camera to a super cub with duct tape and we set it free. Ben watched in terror as the plane returned an hour later “can you see the camera? Is it still there? I’m not sure if they put it on my insurance before I left…” Travis came back with gorgeous footage of the Mulchatna caribou herd, hundreds and hundreds of caribou, migrating at the headwaters of the Koktuli across the “Project Site.” This and the 300 sockeye salmon we will help gut, clean, smoke, dry and can, for just one family next week on the Kvichak reminds me what we are fighting for here in the last great salmon fishery.

I am listening to your story, NDM, but I’m sorry, I cannot just wait and see. The history of mining pollution speaks too loud, and the loss here is too great. I walked around a drilling site, acknowledging its careful construction and protocols for minimal impact. But ultimately in black and white, in tattered archived photographs and yellowing newspapers, I still see the results of all the other mines that have said “this one will be different.”

Tommorrow we head back to Dillingham. The fish are in and there’s work to be done. Off to visit the Alaska Miner’s Association today, Ben says, “Do we look like we’re ready to go film some shit?” Yes, Ben, always. If anyone at NDM would ever like a tour of Trout Unlimited, we would be happy to host you and cook up some of Lindsey’s Bristol Bay Salmon. Please come visit anytime.

feltsoul gets some love | thisisfly.com goes live

http://www.thisisfly.com/?l=169 p.43

We have to take a quick hiatus from AK life to give some props to thisisfly.com

Ben and I got a random email a while back from some dude named Tim Miller in NYC asking about an interview for his new “webzine.” We usually don’t pass up opportunities for shameless self promotion so we followed up. We exchanged some emails and phone calls and sent in some photos. A few weeks later we recieved the following link to check out… www.thisisfly.com. Check out page 43 – Holy shit, Tim and his crew know how to make fly fishing cool. We were honored. Thanks for the love and for running our sometimes incoherent responses in their entirety. Keep it coming – please.

EVIL SHOWER OF DEATH

Yup’ik Eskimo, Peter Andrew | Photo by Ben Knight

Disclaimer: Ben Knight’s opinions and comments expressed in this forum in no way reflect the wholesome, politically correct, fun-for-the-whole-family and completely A-political stance that Felt Soul Media proudly represents. Just ignore him.

First of all, I walked a quarter mile in the rain to take this shower. A shower is especially important when you’re living at Gypsy Corner in the boat yard inside a forty-foot steel storage container. We sleep at the back of the container away from the tools where the mold-shrooms grow. Don’t get me wrong, I’m very grateful to have a place to sleep. [Many thanks to Croc, Kai and Tyone for taking us off the mean streets of Dillingham. You guys are one of a kind] Back to the shower. There’s no denying the power of a good shower head and the perfect water temperature. You know, the feeling of putting your head down and letting it just rain on the back of your neck as you go cross-eyed with pleasure. Imagine being several minutes into your steamy bliss. Clunk. Within a split second molten lava in the form of an innocent shower is searing off both nipples and I’m lunging out of the fallout zone almost pulling the shower curtain down with me. It gets so hot that a plume of steam erupts from the shower like a volcano. Repeat this retarded process every 30 seconds until clean and shield the man parts. Welcome to shower time at the Peter Pan Canary. I’ll put up with the evil shower of death because the buffet is a super yummy. The chicken fingers today… holy shit.

“Croc,” a.k.a. Chuck beside his self portrait on his hull in Gypsy Corner. Croc is the Captain Cook/Einstein/Shackelton of the 21st century. We’ll get into that later | Photo by Ben Knight

T-dog and I rented a jacked-up diesel Ford truck for a couple days with a camper shell and enough leaf springs to haul a bull dozer. This will be our home now. The rental car lady said we could have the beast or a tiny compact car… the choice seemed obvious. It even came with pre caked-on Alaska dirt and a siren, you know, just incase we need a fucking siren I guess? Not sure how to turn it on, but it makes us look even more important than we already are. No, it’s not bio diesel for all you soy sucking hippies who were wondering. I’ve seen no sign of bio diesel in Alaska. It’s not like we’re here to save natural resources or one of the last 3 sustainable fisheries or anything.

Today was officially Felt Soul kick-it with the natives day. [was that not PC? Sorry.] We met Peter Andrew who is a full blood Yup’ik Eskimo who took us in for dinner and gave us an interview that brought tears to our eyes. He and his lovely wife Rose had slayed king salmon all morning with their subsistence net and were smoking the strips of glowing orange flesh with cottonwood. Inside the house we stuffed our faces with fresh baked bread, pickled king salmon, smoked king salmon and salmon chowder. I thought I had tried pickled everything, now I’m sure I have. Oh wait, pickled pigs feet I have not tried. Add pickled king salmon to my list of favorite pink things. I left Peter’s house saturated in kindness. I know people are partly welcoming us because they support what we’re doing, but I honestly feel that Alaskans may very well be a different breed. Most people just appear to be very focused, relaxed and comfortable with themselves and their way of life. I can’t help but wonder if the folks who support the mine will be more skeptical of our agenda.

Kai (L), Croc’s son cooks it up outside our humble storage container home. Kai is the resident Gypsy Corner DJ, nicest guy ever and quite the talented photographer. Photo by Ben Knight

Random awesome stats:

*Total film shot so far: 200 gigs [approx. 500 minutes]
*Days left: 55
*Number of nipple burns: 2
*Salmon consumed by Ben: 23.4 pounds
*Fish caught by Travis: 30
*Fish caught by Ben: 8
*Ben’s fishing problem as explained by Travis: “Dude, just fish with confidence… every cast, just expect a fish to eat.”
*Ben’s fishing problem as explained by Ben: Nymphing is for tourists.
*Price for a 12-pack of PBR: $13
*Red Bull: $3.50
*Plastic handle of Black Velvet whiskey: $50
*Sockeye salmon fresh from the net per pound in 2007: 65 cents
*Sockeye salmon per pound in 1989: $2.50
*Sockeye salmon at Whole Foods: $19.99
*Fishermen are getting: fucked

HAPPY SOLSTICE EVERYBODY

Fatass Ben | Photo by Travis Rummel

We were treated to the longest sunset/sunrise I have ever been privy to last night/morning. It all blends together up here – night into morning into night. The light doesn’t seem to get good until 11pm, but then it is on until 1:30 or so. It is truly amazing up here and perhaps the most impressive part is not the mountains pouring directly into lakes or the hours of golden light, but the encounters with people we have had. Everyday we meet amazing passionate people that love their lifestyle that finds root in the return of wild salmon to their natal streams.

Most of the folks migrate up here from other parts of the country and the world – they love the sense of freedom that only the fishing lifestyle can provide – the adrenaline of seeing their nets dragged away by the power of thousands of wild pacific salmon intercepted as they make their way to spawn or the tides dictating the time when things get done.

The folks that live here year round truly find their identity in the fish and their annual return. It is how the passing of time is told here and how their identities are formed.

Wild salmon seem to nourish the community just as much as they nourish the entire ecosystems of Bristol Bay. We are extremely fortunate and grateful to be learning this first hand. I have never experienced this kind of sense of community or welcoming hospitality before. We literally walk into to people’s homes as strangers and leave feeling like old friends. It is unlike any other place I have been and I think we might have the salmon to thank for it.

Gypsy Corner

Travis keeps a firm grip on his Sage spey rod while cruising for chicks in downtown King Salmon at 10:30 PM. Photo by Ben Knight

The two other members of the crew [who will remain unnamed] have decided that my blog entries must begin with a disclaimer so I don’t offend the governor of any states that we happen to be filming in.

Disclaimer: Ben Knight’s opinions and comments expressed in this forum in no way reflect the wholesome, politically correct, fun-for-the-whole-family and completely A-political stance that Felt Soul Media proudly represents. Just ignore him.

Dear Lauren,

Seriously, don’t read the next few blog entries because you’re going to freak out when you realize what you’ve missed. [Lauren, our tall assistant from Trout Unlimited who likes to dance till 3 AM at the Red Dog fisherman bar in Naknek] ran off to Juneau to take care of a few things and left Travis and I alone to have incredible experiences that we’ll never forget. [But I’m sure the TU office in Juneau is awesome too]

Ok, so there’s this huge boat yard where random characters from all over the world gather to prepare their fishing boats for the rapidly approaching sockeye salmon spawn. Many of these people do not fit the fisher person “look.” It reminds me of a Burning Man/Bluegrass/Rave/meth festival of sorts. One area of the boat yard is called ‘Gypsy Corner’ where an eclectic group of extremely welcoming fishermen gather every night around what reminds me of a scene from Mad Max. A 10-foot tall stack of oil drums with etchings of a nude woman is the centerpiece of the gathering as a raging bonfire illuminates her perfectly plasma cut-breasts and wavy hair from within. Massive aluminum commercial fishing boats tower over the Gypsy Corner flanked by cargo containers that people use as makeshift homes while making repairs on their boats. A random assortment of old speakers running off car stereo amps that look abandoned dangle from a shack with a tarp roof where the resident salmon fishing DJ mixes some seriously sick, thumping beats from his Powerbook. A digital projector screens “Death of a president” onto an old ripped sheet tied to the boats while beer drinking locals dance and throw rocks when George W. Bush is shown. Next film up for Gypsy Corner movie night… you guessed it. Running Down the Man. Our strangest screening yet by far. Folks seemed to really enjoy it until the end when Frank speaks of “Killing less fish.” Some dude sarcastically yelled “Let’s all catch and release this year” and received a roar of laughter. Saw that one coming. The sky is a deep, dark blue by 2:45 AM but the party isn’t over yet, and although it never got completely dark, the sun is already poised for sunrise. The DJ [Kai] puts the beats on auto-pilot and starts twirling the fuck out of a stick with flames raging from both ends in his one-piece navy blue work suit. The Gypsy Corner is a 20+year tradition in the Dillingham Boat yard.

Old Russian Orthodox graveyard in Naknek. Photo by Ben Knight

Note: Do not eat raw salted salmon eggs unless you need to forge steel with your breath.

Spent an entire day filming Dylan [the young talented boat builder/set-netter] and his his super loud but passionate and well-spoken father-in-law Ole preparing to launch a 30-foot skiff/barge of theirs. This is the first time Travis and I have actually imbedded ourselves with a subject we didn’t know. Turns out, we should do this more often. It takes an ass load of patience, but it really paid off. It took all day to get the prop running that Dylan bought from Pedro in North Carolina off E-bay, but eventually we were in the water and off to their remote fish camp at Nushagak Point. 3 minutes later the engine is dead, the plastic bottle of whiskey is out, and we’re waiting for a tow. Eventually we made it to camp but didn’t beat the tide and were left wading a quarter mile through knee deep tidal mud. A bush plane landed on the black pebble beach in front of us loaded with moose and caribou antlers as hundreds of white Beluga whales fed on sockeye behind us. Wait, where the fuck are we? Oh yeah, ALASKA. We were greeted by friendly fisherman and welcomed to a ground-elk spaghetti dinner by Ole, the honorary Nushagak Point mayor. The Point is a small beach spotted with tiny rugged plywood cabins with spring-fed running water from the rolling green hills above. Dylan’s wife Sarah found time to bake the best yellow cake I’ve ever had with home-made chocolate icing that I would bathe myself in if possible. The evening was capped off with our strongest interview of the trip from Ole, who sat on his porch as the sun began to set at 11 PM and cast a soft red glow. I took one of my few pills of Ambien sleep crack and dozed off in the loft of a cabin while mosquitos injected my lifeless drugged face with Alaskan malaria all night.

Note: I have entered a realm of abusive gluttony that I had no idea I was capable of thanks to a general over-abundance of salmon and the delicious buffet and condiment selection at the Peter Pan cannary.

Remanants of the pier from an old burned-down canary on the Nushagak Point set-netter fish camp. Photo by Ben Knight

Back at the Cannery

The Final Resting Place of Carman – Peter Pan Cannery, Dillingham AK | Photo by Ben Knight

Dear Readers,

It has been hard to find a moment to offer my voice to our blog. With the 20 hours of light with the best light quality coming around 12am it has been hard to make time for an update – and there is much to update you on.

We have had an incredible amount of support on the ground here in Bristol Bay. People have been wonderfully kind and inviting.

Local guide and business owner Patricia Edel made our initial welcome over at the Blue Fly B&B (we highly recommend her spot at www.bluefly.com, but be careful as she can drink you under the table) in King Salmon.

Mark Emery was quick to take us under his wing guiding us out on the Naknek river and answering our every query in regards to filming in Bristol Bay. He has been shooting for National Geograohic and guiding in the area for the last 23 years. You da man Mark! You can check out his work at www.markemeryfilms.com.

After our first 2 days in King Salmon we flew over to Dillingham on a 45 minute puddle jumper to meet the mystery “trout lady” (although she has a hard time catching em) – Lauren Oakes of AK TU and to film a big anti-pebble rally. Norm Van Vector at the Peter Pan Cannery, the oldest cannery in Dilligham hooked it up for us with some dorm style living and amazing mess hall grub. Ben finally got his halibut on. The cannery is pretty rad and has been cranking out processed salmon for over 100 years here in Dillingham.

Ok than it was back to King Salmon to meet Ryan Peterson of the Fly Shop and try to get some more trophy bows out of the Naknek. Ryan flew up from Redding, California to spend some time with us and dial us in on the AK scene. He is an Alaska native like the giant bows here in Bristol Bay. Ryan had been a guide on the Naknek but has since moved on to guide the more exotic waters of Kamchatka in Russia. He still makes an annual pilgrimage back to the Naknek in search of native wild 30+” bows that are not found anywhere else on the globe. Unfortunately our timing was a bit off and the annual smolt run was fickle and rainbows were not caught in abundance, although we did manage a couple with each outing.

The Naknek is a super short (25 miles or so) river that supports some of the largest native rainbows in the world due to the super abundance of smolt and spawning salmon and the health and proximity of Naknek lake. The fish are very close to steelhead in appearance and size but rather than making an oceanic run they migrate to the lake and then spawn in the rivers. Late fall is apparently the time to take the biggest fish of the year when they return to the river to feast on eggs and flesh of spawning sockeye.

Ryan enlightened us with his vast knowledge of AK politics (he worked in the state legislation before moving south to CA and The Fly Shop). He also brought an international perspective on bows that conveyed the uniqueness of the Naknek system. Thanks for making the trip up Ryan.

So here we are back at the cannery loitering around the Peter Pan boat yard trolling for seasoned fisherman to allow us into their tiny living spaces and share their thoughts for the camera. Everyone keeps telling us we look too clean for the boat yard. We do manage to stick out as we are clad in capilene with nylon pants and gore-tex shoes with no grease on our hands.

Our immediate hope is to profile the various approaches to catching the wall of Sockeye that will soon descend on Bristol Bay. As far as commercial techniques you are pretty much either a set-netter or a drift netter. Both have their nuances and techniques for maximum efficiency. We have gotten hooked up with some of the best of each discipline and look forward to getting out on the water with them when the fish finally show up. Right now, we are pointing our cameras in their faces as prep their boats and ready them for the onslaught of sockeyes. It appears to be a late spring this year with only small pulses of Kings in the system. Towards the end of the month the sockeye show up in earnest and then it is non stop for a month with around the clock netting.

Stay tuned…

News from Naknek / King Salmon

At Work on the Naknek | photo by Mark Emery

Lauren here, the “mystery TU girl” logistics lady stepping in with the news. No, I don’t hate Ben, I keep feeding him chocolate to win him over. I did lose him yesterday in the Naknek boat yard on a shooting endeavor, spent an hour traipsing around bars and boats looking for him, wishing I were photographing instead. So that doesn’t help my case, oh well. We’re in King Salmon now…thanks to the support from Nanci Morris Lyon at Katmai Fishing Adventures, Patricia at Blue Fly Inn and Ryan Peterson, all the way from the Fly Shop in Cali. Born Alaskan, champ fly fisherman (comes with hip hat knit by his grandmother, loaded up with his custom flies poking out in every which direction), Ryan knows these rivers like the back of his hand and has a wealth of knowledge and experience in Alaskan politics (not to mention makes the best dang coffee around and ties flies like I have never seen). I’m letting the boys down as the Trout lady because apparently there are “bows” all over the place (i see them on the end of their lines, jumping about), and I have yet to catch one. But I’m into quality not quantity (and well also have a ton to learn, gotta keep the hands together, stop waving that rod like a wand), but came through the biggest of the day…some “freakish” (says Ryan) Arctic Char, seldom seldom found that large in the system. Perhaps I’ll figure out that spey thing in time; it is absolutely beautiful to watch these guys fish. Ahhh, as for the plan, we were up until 12 last night brainstorming the shape of the film. Travis has done his reading, comes with a 3 inch binder and all of Bristol Bay, mining and Pebble research. Wherever we go we end up talking Pebble with the locals. Ben is emerging from the shock of the Alaskan way…bush pilots, ridiculous remote travel trials of patience, big fish, protests, and shotty internet and seems to be in deep contemplation about the task at hand. We’re making a film….we promise. And everyone we come across seems remarkably receptive, as long as it’s no “cowboys of the sea.” Seems like the commercial fishermen weren’t very pleased with National Geo’s work last summer. But FeltSoul will “keep in real.”

Well, we’re gearing up for the rally this weekend in Naknek, hoping we can get more sport-fishermen to turn out. Then I think it’s back to Dillingham to shoot with Dylan and Dave Edgorf too. Dave runs a remote camp operation way up on the Nushagak we hope to visit later in the summer. Thanks to TU headquarters for the brochures we put out. I think they’ll make their way into the hands of many sportfishermen this summer. No, I don’t think these Ben and Travis are getting fat yet but they certainly eat a ton of fish. We’re in Bristol Bay, better pack it in, it doesn’t get any better than this. Big Fish. Lots of ‘em that need catchin’, eatin’ and protecting. Speaking of which Ryan is redirecting logistics to the river…gotta go.

One of the top 10 quotes so far: L.A. Times reporter walks into the Bristol Inn in Dillingham and checks in. Receptionist asks, “What are you doing in Dillingham.” Reporter, Margot replies, “Writing a story about the Pebble Mine.” Receptionist: “Are you for it or against it?” Margot: “I just want to report the story and talk to people on both sides.” Receptionist: “Well, if that mine goes through you’ll be reporting a story on me, blowing it up.”

Cue the drama…

No, we’re not just fishing! This is a business trip, so just shut your face. Photo by Mark Emery

Ok, here’s what’s been happening: Travis caught a rainbow trout big enough to feed your mom, met Mark Emery of National Geographic who when asked “where are you from?” responds “Well that’s really none of your business”, I’m starting to get fat already and contemplating trading my bike for a full suspension big-wheel for gondola laps, we’re a 3-person crew now with the addition of mystery girl Lauren from Trout Unlimited who pretty much hates me I think, we met a lovely Carhart clad lady named Lindsey who is the captain of her very own fishing boat, Travis tweaked his knee jumping off a skiff with a camera back pack on, I destroyed my back lifting gear and just took enough Alleve to cure AIDS, we filmed an anti Pebble Mine rally in Dillingham where we met Lee, a photographer from the LA Times who craves more positive-outcome assignments and sees Bristol Bay as “fucked”, Travis’s big toenail is minutes away from falling off and smells funny, halibut is yummy and I would like more please, met a total bad-ass commercial fisherman named Dillon who studies law and designs and fabricates his own sick-ass boats from raw aluminum, my dislike of dogs is growing with every bark of a black piece of shit cocker spaniel with pink-eye , grizzly bears are cute and fluffy when you’re a safe distance away from them, a gold mine seems like an odd trade for ancient pristine salmon runs, bush planes freak me the fuck out and I haven’t even landed on a river yet, if you pretend to have a back injury everyone (even chicks) move your gear for you, ruby red squirt is a tasty Alaskan beverage when properly chilled.

Interesting fact learned: It’s ok to say: “Good enough to slap your grandma” when used in context at the dinner table. Meaning: Something tasted so wonderful that you’d consider giving granny a gentle slap on the hand if the bitch were reaching for the last bite of what you wanted to eat. Many thanks to alligator wrestler Mark Emory for sharing this wisdom.

We’re in Dillingham now big pimpin’ with wireless internet at the Peter Pan Canning company and flying back to King Salmon this afternoon so Travis can get his fish on again. Don’t miss the next Felt Soul blog entry when we’ll touch on the controversial subject of livin’ the dream.

Several Alaskan natives show their support of the anti-Pebble Mine movement at the Dillingham rally while having their picture taken for the LA Times. Photo by Ben Knight

The Bristol Bay project begins…

Twas the night before King Salmon…

Hour 7 at the Denver airport. It’s 10:15 PM. We should have been dragging oversized luggage off the carousel in Anchorage by now, but an evil windstorm from hell has grounded all winged things. Travis’s 4th cousin’s sister’s dog-sitter was going to snatch us and our 9 bags up in Alaska, but we’ve called her off due to our new 4:30 AM arrival time.
We’ve been packing and poking fun at Travis’s dog’s neck fat for several days now… it was an odd relief to see the gear disappear on the conveyor belt. Our 300 pounds of camera gear is likely to pop up on e-bay at any moment now as the baggage handlers are undoubtedly bored and underpaid. The pork airport burrito, chicken nuggets, cheeseburger and frappe thing I just inhaled are making me feel dirty. I just sent 26 text messages, and I’m too cheap to pay for wireless internet, so Travis ordered me to write a blog entry. I wanted to bring a back-up pair of sunglasses, but there was no room… that is how tightly packed we are. We even had to mail a 40-pound box of gear to the Peter Pan Cannery in Dillingham Alaska after running out of places to put things. Our satellite phone, candy, back-up hard drives and books will likely smell like dead tuna if we ever get there to claim the package. does FedEx even deliver to Dillingham?
I fear the moment our first bush pilot takes one look at our towering pile of heavy ass shit, spits a chew on runway and shakes his head. Theoretically we’ll be meeting up with National Geo cinematographer/seasoned fishing guide Mark Emory in King Salmon who hasn’t missed opening season day on the infamous Naknek river in 23 years. The Naknek hosts the highest density of Rainbow trout over 30 inches in Alaska. Bummer. Now if only we could board the damn plane…
Speaking of things popping up on E-Bay, everything but Travis’s beloved Sage spey rod made it to Alaska. It was carefully removed from a bundle of other rods by a bastard bag handler. If you are bidding right now on a spey rod with Travis’s ex-girlfriend’s name hand painted on it, stop, and call the proper authorities. We drooled on an airport bench for several hours, and now we’re waiting for Travis’s 4th cousin’s neighbors accountant’s 18 year-old daughter to pick us up for a bit of breakfast. The adventure continues. [Big up to the Davisons for their hospitality and bear advice in Anchorage]