I’ve posted in detail about how we fish before, so I don’t think I’ll repeat myself today. That post is worth reading if you want a comprehensive play-by-play of how we go about getting the fish out of the water. And it has the added bonus of containing a photo that never fails to make Robbi laugh, one in which I miraculously cause fish to levitate by raising my arms. Here it is, in case you are in a rush.
But without going into too much detail, I thought I’d post a few photos from the beach, some of which have been lovingly enhanced by our friends at Instagram.
As has also been well-documented, going fishing starts with getting dressed.
Here’s Robbi on the beach, hauling in a raft of (not much) fish. Iggy was no help at all.
But Bob stepped in to give her a hand while the kids looked on.
Once the fish were on shore, they loaded them into the cart on the back of the four-wheeler.
And drove on over to the buyers’ truck.
The crane lifted the bag of fish and weighed it.
Then Robbi drove away while Bob picked up our receipt.
Basically, we sell the fish, they write down on a sheet of paper how many pounds we sold, and we get paid at the end of the season. Unless the company goes bankrupt, which means we get nothing. It has happened before.
While Robbi and Bob fished, the kids played in the sand.
And splashed in the surf.
Kato was intrigued by the buoy.
He was small against the wide stretch of beach.
Small but smiling. Small but undaunted.
Wet and cold, he decided to walk home.
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that it was three miles away.
He didn’t get very far before he decided to come back and investigate his buoy, a round red outlier against the beach.
Inspired by an unknown force, Kato headed back into the water to join his sister, still splashing away in her bright yellow boots.
If nothing else, Alaska is a fun place to be a kid.