meet the fishermen
For my last night in Alaska, I decided I was going to do something I hadn’t done for the two weeks I was there; Buy myself a beer and decent dinner and relax in that zen place of Ahhh…I did it! Well, Alaska had a different idea of what my last night should be and it could not have been more perfect.
I walked into the Fish Pirates Saloon on that rainy and chilly night, fairly late and asked them if they were even open. It was so quiet in the place it looked like they were about to close. They said they were still open, so I went to the bar ordered, and sat happily in my quiet zen place, thinking about the events of my adventurous and goal reaching 2 weeks there. There were a whopping 6 other people there dining who we all wrapping up their meals with a guy playing some tunes on a piano in the background. Piano man finished his songs and came up to the bar to get what seemed to be his after gig final drink. He introduced himself to me.
And then the Salmon Fisherman walked in and all hell broke loose (in a good and fun way.)
Here we go.
In no less that 2 minutes, Troy the piano guy (who had barely introduced himself to me) and the crew of already having too much (well is there ever really too much?)- fun guys were whooping it up and surrounding me. Talk about zero to 60 in 2 minutes. The bartender instinctively mixed up what the crew was about to ask for anyway, and slid me a shot to join in with the whole gang. Who am I to reject a complimentary shot with a bunch of strangers?
2 seconds after the shot, someone screamed “KARAOKE!!!” and piano man Troy refused to go back to play unless the fisherman sang to me while I stood on the piano. (I must insert here, that I am all about a party, am not afraid of dancing on a table, talking to brick walls, or any of the like. Moreover, when someone says anything along the lines of “Get on stage/the table, etc.!” I am usually all about it. This night however, I was stone sober, tired from hiking and chilled from being out in the drizzle all day so I really gave a Girl Scout try of declining the standing on the piano wish. I was no match for a crew of already well-buzzed chanting hilarious fisherman who had just come off the boat after 6 days at sea, so I politely did what was asked.)
Troy made them face and sing to me and the guys took turns rocking it out while I talked to those who weren’t, about fishing:
I found out they often work up to 20 hours a day and 7 days a week. One guy was 22 and just back from college for the summer. He said in 2 month’s he could make $25k working those crazy hours. (I need to become a fisherwoman.) I was told by another one of the guys that they actually caught all the fish, crab, etc. for the Deadliest Catch boat/TV show. I don’t know whether this is true or not, but these were all good guys and seemed like the no bull kind, so I believed them. One of them asked me if I was a reporter. I told him, well- sort of. I had to get a video of one the guys Mike singing. (At one point Troy made me come back up onstage and sit with Mike. When I tried to take a self portrait style head shot of Mike and I, he leaned in and promptly said; “Oh, sorry dude- I totally just farted.” Talk about funny. I almost fell off the piano.)
I participated in beer #2 and cheering as the karaoke and madness continued. I remained sober, but laughed so hard, most of the night I was doubled over and my stomach hurt. I had so much unexpected fun. These guys were just regular hard working fishermen, completely innocent out to have a good time and blow off a bunch of steam. They were weathered and windburned, Carhart wearing gents, just as you’d imagine Alaskan Fishermen to be and looked like they worked harder than most of the people I’ve ever met. It was quite and experience and what a way to spend my final night in my 50th state. Talk about fall asleep laughing and thinking- did that just happen? Now this will make for a good story.
Thanks guys. That was a blast and then some. I’ve done a lot of things before, not sure I have ever stood on a piano during shots and karaoke, and certainly not at a restaurant in Alaska. I’ll cheers to that!
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