With few more windy afternoons out at the marina, I officially wrapped up data collection early the first week of August. 162 interviews. 452 anglers. 2,757 Dungeness crab caught and kept.
My plan was to spend most of the week working on data analysis and my upcoming presentation, but there’s always time for a little excursion. On Tuesday, I tagged along with Justin to retrieve one camera pot and deploy two more. The wind that was so strong the week before had died down significantly, and it was a beautiful day to be out on the ocean.
Wednesday afternoon, I learned how to drive a boat…which is something I definitely hadn’t anticipated getting the chance to learn anytime soon, much less this summer. Justin and I were collecting a few Dungeness in Alsea Bay, and he asked me if I wanted to take the wheel while the pots were soaking. And, just like that, I was doing something I’d been interested in learning ever since I spent weekends at lakes as a kid. By the time we were finished for the afternoon, there were whitecaps in the bay and the water was so choppy that the waves were washing onto the dock, but braving the wind (it’s never far away for long) was well worth it.
That was First #1. An enriching/educational experience. First #2 came on Friday at 8:04 AM when my knife slipped, going straight through the back of my avocado and into my hand. It wouldn’t have been an issue – there was minimal blood, and the cut was not large – but I managed to cut myself in between my fore and middle fingers, a location that would make the healing process a little more difficult. Even with my iron stomach (it’s a significant point of pride for me), I felt like I was going to black out looking at the wound and “into” my finger. I was fine after my roomies helped me to the couch and bandaged me up, but I still ended up having to get my first-ever stitches later that morning. Sorry for the details, but I haven’t had an injury to show off in a while. Plus, the way I left the avocado and knife looks a bit like the scene of a crime, only with less blood. Who’s hungry?
The pit came right out after that, by the way. Mission accomplished.
[Side note: one of the nurses at the clinic said I seemed like the type of person who “knows no strangers,” or something like that. Then she went on to say that I seemed like I could talk to a wall if I wanted to. Not sure how I feel about that last part, but the evidence is clear: interviews about Dungeness crabs are definitely bringing out my inner social butterfly. No one has told me anything in the same galaxy as either of those statements before.]
The weekend was uneventful for the most part, but we did hang out at Port Dock 1 and watch these guys for a while.
Sea lion life is a soap opera. It’s all cuddles until someone tries to get on your dock. Then plenty of barking and biting ensues. Soon the whole group joins in, as if they don’t actually know the latest drama but still can’t bear to be left out of the action.
More coffee on Saturday, and the wind was calm enough on the walk across the bridge for me to actually be able to stop and take a photo of the marina where I work every day.