16. Southeastern Alaska

First Sergeant Guitterez, Company B.208th Infantry Battalion (Sep) Alaska National Guard, U.S. Army, was administrator of our Guard unit. I admired him as a tough, sharp First Sergeant who beat our unit into shape. I was broke after graduating high school and he let me sleep in the Armory for a while. My friends wouldn't let me go hungry, though, and I found odd jobs around Sitka. Then I met Chester Myasoto. He was trained at Mt. Edgecumbe as a carpenter and stayed with his sister while looking for work. I He decided we could tough it out and live off the land. He accepted me as his partner even though he knew I was not a hunter. I helped him build a 21' flat bottom open boat. The ribs were 2 by 2’s and the sides and bottom were marine plywood. I admired how he could put the whole thing together without plans. He drew a template on the floor to angle the ribs correctly. The plywood was difficult to curve into shape but we managed it. The boat floated almost like a cork. He borrowed his father's 25 hp Johnson outboard and had a .25 caliber rifle. Our provisions were light: mostly coffee, rice, lard, and salt. We had smoke-blackened coffee pot and pan. He assured me that there were lots of deer and fish out there. The inside waters and forests of Southeastern Alaska beckoning to us and we were off. Chester had a chart to travel by and he knew where we were going. It was not like we were going anywhere the boat pointed to. I had begged ignorance in all hunting matters but he didn't seem to be worried. Chester was built short and very solid and strong. His manner was gruff and he had self confidence. Sometimes he talked disparagingly of the white man's world and ways but was eager to go to work as a carpenter. One morning I suggested that the coffee was boiling too long and he used that occasion to let me know who was boss. I never complained again. We had no tent so we slept under very tall trees with a tarpaulin over us. He knew how to make a fire under seemingly impossible wet situations. He was an expert deer caller. After gutting and beheading the deer he showed how to make a back pack out of it with the leg tendons and bones. A freshly killed deer meant broiling the ribs next to a fire and I loved it, especially if it was a fatty deer. While the ribs were getting done we sat next to the fire drinking coffee and talking about life in general. When he asked me what I would like to become I answered maybe I should become a Catholic priest. He dismissed it as being too unlikely suggesting instead that I work my way up the Bureau of Indian Affairs. He told me I could do it with the brains I had. I was flattered. We would go to Sitka about twice a month to buy gas, oil, and other necessities. I felt I needed a bath or shower at least once a month. One time we went to Sitka when the tide was lower than usual. To avoid hitting rocks Chester expertly kept the boat on the crest of a large swell. It was hilarious riding the swell all the way in. like riding right over an occasional rock. Chester knew what he was doing while I laughed at the danger below us. One time we ran out of gas. Chester tore a couple of floor boards out and we paddled all night in a driving rain to a cabin he knew about. It was the most strenuous effort of my life. Just before dawn we reached the cabin. Tired and hungry and cold we had coffee and crackers and spent a day and night; We had a freshly killed deer so we had no worries about food. We waited for a boat to go by so we could borrow gas. About the tenth day we could hear a boat and it was nearing us. It was a large cabin cruiser and we felt in luck. We went to the beach as it went by us and waved our coats in a distress signal. It steamed by and out of sight. We wondered if we were going to be delivered from our predicament. With streams nearby and on a large island we were confident we could survive there indefinitely. There were deer. A few days I later we heard the whine of an outboard motor and it seemed to be coming towards us. Unbelievably it rounded the corner and came straight towards us. It was a man on a small speed boat, rather, it was a racing hull. Without a word the man gave us a gallon of gas. While we were telling he would be repaid in Sitka the man sped off in a different direction without telling us his name. We had never seen him before. Back in Sitka we described the man and his racing hull. No. No one had ever seen him or his strange boat. Chester and I talked about the incident at length and I told him an angel had been sent to deliver us. He had no argument. We left Sitka vowing to never run out of gas again. And we didn't. In this part of the world the mountains went right down to the sea. The virgin beauty of it all filled me with a quiet, deep joy. The deer and fish were plentiful. Sleeping in the forests, eating by an open fire, breathing the incredibly fresh air, and absorbing the raw beauty of nature made the hard work of living off the land worthwhile. The amenities of living in Sitka paled in comparison to true outdoor life. Chester and I were lucky. One day as we were cruising along, as usual with no real destination, we came upon a clam bonanza. The tide was low and on the muddy flat of a small inlet tiny geysers of water were spraying all over the place. While Chester shoveled with haste I carried these clams to the boat. These beauties were about seven inches across. We filled the boat to within inches of swamping it. Then we started the slow, careful trip to Sitka. While Chester expertly guided our laden boat between swells I started shucking. After sweating it out for a day and a half we finally reached Sitka safely. After shucking for hours we filled six five-gallon cans. The Mt. Edgecumbe Hospital/Sanatorium A gladly paid $180 for the clams. We had grubstake money. One of the great natural sights I’ve experienced occurred during the herring spawning season. It seems that herring will spawn on anything solid. One of the spawning areas was Redoubt Bay - about five miles long. In the height of spawning activity the whole bay trans milky white. I just couldn't believe it. Herring eggs are a delicacy. Just cook them briefly in boiling water and enjoy the taste of a lifetime! Chester and I would place spruce branches in the water over night and the next morning the branches would be covered with herring eggs at least two inches thick. Chester would sell them. I don't know what the price was but we made good money. Late one morning we arrived in Sitka at the same time a plane was tying up at the dock. We tied up next to it just in time as the tourists were walking by. They asked what we had on those branches. Chester said herring eggs. They wanted to know how the eggs got on the branches. With a straight face Chester explained at length how the herring jumped out of the water and spawned on trees at night. The tourists walked away believing. The evidence was there. Before the tourists could get out of hearing range Chester and I laughed and slapped each other. They came back expressing disbelief. Chester offered to take them to the spawning forests at night. The only thing was, Chester explained, they would be covered head to foot with eggs. They might suffocate. If they survived they would smell of herring eggs for weeks. With that, the tourists left for good leaving Chester and I almost falling down from laughter. The incident was always good for a laugh when things got too grim. For the better part of a year Chester Myasoto and I lived outside the perimeters of society. There were no laws to abide by, no social functions to attend. Nature generously provided all the food we needed. We gave respect to the sea and to the forests and thanked the tall trees for sheltering us from the rains.