Homergone Day

Homergone Day marks the last day of the fur sealing season. One of the residents explained to me that it had to do with the old ship, the Homer, leaving after the last of the pelts were loaded. There is a parade through the village; pick-up trucks with men on the back, tossing seal parts out to the viewers, honking their horns, and waving white flags. The viewers make noise as well, shouting, and traditionally, banging on pots and pans. It did not last long this year. I was in my office with a client when the noise started, and we opened the blinds to watch.

Because it is a "holiday" the Tavern is closed, as is the Beer/Wine store. I asked why, and it seems that holidays are even more reasons to drink, so they do that to reduce alcohol consumption. However, all it seems to do is make folks go buy enough beer to last for 3 days instead of 2.

Although my walking buddy was gone, I headed out for a walk. It is only another week until I will be headed home and I still have things to explore if the weather continues to cooperate.

At low tide, this inlet by the fish processing plant is feeding grounds for small birds. At times, it is hard to tell the birds from the rocks.

Every time I see one of the green hills, I know why they call St. Paul the "Emerald Isle of the Bering Sea." It supposedly looks much like parts of Ireland.
More Deadliest Catch crab cage storage.
I always think weird things--like, how much money did it cost to ship this semi over to the island? It's clear it will be here until the frame totally rusts to dust, and I wondered how old it is. As small as the island is, even though old, how many miles could this truck have? Does the odometer even work any more?
The one and only gasoline station on the island. Fuel was $6 a gallon while I was there. Granted, a fill up should last quite a long time on an island with few roads, but it would still be a hardship on folks with limited income. Many inhabitants do not have cars and walk everywhere. Fortunately, it is small enough for that not to be much of a hardship in terms of distance, but it would be difficult in the winter with snow and ice. There is a taxi service available.

I decided to walk past the crab cages and the industrial section and out toward one of the seal rookeries. The haze across the hills gave everything a surreal effect.

Just past the hill is one of the smaller rookeries and seals were sleeping as they apparently do much of the time.


Although I was not close (standing in the road as you are not allowed to get near them except in the two that have official viewing blinds) they generally all head to the water when anyone gets near.
And in a flash, they are gone!

The Other Side of the Island

Today was Dr. Lunden's last day at the center and we had planned to go to the other side of the island--the side to which neither of us had been yet. We took the van and headed out at 6 p.m. We drove to the end of the road one way, walked and hiked, and drove to the end of the road the other way and hiked uphill in the sand until we could see the sea.
Otter Island is visible from many different locations on the island; of course, since the whole island is only 4 miles x 5 miles, that is not that difficult.
There is a fairly large lake on this part of the island. Families were walking out in the shallow part and searching for something--a fish or crab perhaps.
A row of poles like this--covered in mossy growth--were along the roadside. We supposed they had at one time carried some type of wire related to communication.
This end of the island was almost all sandy dunes. The sand is the result of the erosion of the volcanic ash, so is quite different from "beach" sand as we typically think of it.

Fox prints in the sand.

We made a last stop at Telegraph Hill on the way back to the center so I could show Alexandr the Forget-me-nots, but alas, I could not find them again. We did note these beautiful blooms springing out of the rocky soil, however.

All in all, a 3 1/2 hour drive/hike. I will miss my hiking buddy. I have enjoyed working with him as well, and hope the future brings another opportunity.

Ballgames, foxes, & psychosocials

It has been now more than a year since I was in St. Paul, and I continue to think about the experience and the people on a regular basis. Just this week as I was discussing my sabbatical planning with Rando, we talked about St. Paul, the Yukon, and/or some other remote location. My experience on St. Paul was so important for my personal and professional growth, and it would be a perfect place for a sabbatical. While my heart says "go to South Africa" my head tells me there is too much "diversion" for me in South Africa!

The day was July 25, and it had been a good day filled with accomplishments. I made roasted rosemary chicken, mashed potatoes, and sauteed spinach for dinner and shared with my colleagues. Fresh cherries were dessert.

Afterwards, I walked over to the school and visited with the foxes. Mama was watching the kids play from a distance, and as usual, eyed me carefully to see what I was about to do.


I find it amusing how the babies vary--bold one moment, carefully backing off the next moment. Rather like humans, aren't they?
Following a few minutes with the foxes, I headed on over to the softball game. Several of my co-workers were there for the game and I visited with them all a bit. One of them calls this Coastie "eye candy" and has something of a crush on him.

A bit later and one of them came by to pick up the others for a trip to the tavern. Once again, they invited me, and once again, I declined. I have never been one to frequent bars since my early days pre-momhood when dancing was a passion that has pretty well passed. Primarily, the reason was purely professional at this point--not wanting to be seen in a tavern, nor wanting to see "my clients" there!
A short walk again through the old town and some of the original buildings finished up the pleasant evening. The Russian Orthodox Church, which looks like every Russian Orthodox Church I have ever seen...but since I have only seen 2 of them, that is possibly not sufficient evidence to assume they all look the same.

The old hotel.

The old community center. While I liked the way it looked, my co-workers told me it is "haunted" and was dark and dismal and tiny. It certainly is a far cry from the current beautiful building.

Next week would be another full schedule, with preparing to wind down the services. I had an in-service to offer on training the community workers to do an emergency assessment and an ex-parte. Jane had suggested a checklist they could follow. I thought to add a decision tree flow chart, with the on call number on the chart. I was looking forward to the training. Jane was to send me a list of all Alaska laws pertaining to emergency and ex-parte.

My final two weeks were to focus on assessments, histories, and treatment plans, with prioritizing the follow-up for Oonalaska. I could work overtime every day and might not be able to finish chart audits and status reports.

Foxes and softball

I walked over to the school to take some pictures of the baby foxes who live under a concrete slab. This little guy popped out of a tire on the way.

Some of the kids playing near the softball game were fascinated with the camera and all had to try a turn at taking a picture.

After watching the game a bit and visiting with co-workers, I headed on back to the quarters and reflected on all I had accomplished today. I was preparing for an in-service training on ex parte and doing emergency assessments to train the community aides. Jane and I had consulted about doing a checklist they can follow, and also a decision tree flow chart and on call numbers.

Winding down to the final two weeks was mainly about establishing follow up and priorities and assessments and completing all the required documentation. Chart audits and cross referencing the files to make a master list by client name and case number was a priority, since when I got there, one had to look at every file in order to find the case you were looking for as there is no master list. That is not an effective approach!

The parts dump: In more ways than one

The sun came out at 6 p.m., the wind stopped blowing, and it was a beautiful evening, so I hiked over to see seals--once again. I went up to the community center earlier in the day during the cruise tour. I purchased post cards, soap, fry bread, mossberry jelly, and mossberry syrup. Aquilina showed me the steps for drying seal esophagus for making wallets and necklaces. After a stop at the store for fresh vegetables and fruits, I took off for more exploring.
I discovered the "fish dump" which is where the parts of the catch that are not used are dumped on the dock. Foxes and birds eat the parts, so I suppose it is ecology operating.



Next to the dock someone had dumped seal pelts. The "bone dump" is on the other side of the island, but I guess someone did not want to go that far.
I was consulting with my colleague Jane earlier about a client. She said she had seen so many people take little baby steps and then lost their way again. I likened it to stepping off the path. I used it with the young woman yesterday who was upset that she "forgot everything she had been learning" and went "Roar!" I said it was like walking on a path, seeing something and getting distracted. She said "Oh, yeah! Look at the bird!" and pantomimed running off after it. I added looking around and saying, "Oops, where was I going?", where is the path? looking for it, and getting our way back over to it. She grasped that immediately and I reminded her of the need to be kind to herself and nurture herself along the way, not being unduly harsh when she messes up. I affirmed that we all mess up, and the important thing is to be able to forgive ourselves and get back on the path to where we were going.

My path is not "going to the University of Mississippi and tenure." My path is going toward making a difference, toward creating a community of social justice and nurturing people and communities to achieve their best functioning--to enhance and support. If UM was the vehicle for that, great, but if not, there are plenty of other vehicles on the lot from which to choose. It's the same dilemma I faced with the decision to leave little Cisco Junior College and go to HSU. "Who will be here for them if I leave?" And realizing that wherever I go and whatever I do, I matter and make a difference because I choose to. At UM, there are things I have done that have mattered and made a difference--Riverside, Katrina, some of my students. They can take tenure away and in 2 years, my job, but they cannot negate and take away what I have accomplished, and what I have learned. On one hand, that will be the ultimate failure of my career and my life work, and on the other, it has been the pinnacle of my success. They will never know the 'gift' they have given me.

Cruise ship coming in!

I went for a walk over to see the baby foxes, and then cut across the tundra on a trail to the seal rookery. It was a clear day for a change, so the views were incredible.
Fishing boat coming in at the end of a day.
This view is usually shrouded in fog, but was clear today.

I hiked across the tundra on a small trail, and could view the new village. The cemetery is to the right.


I cut across toward the center of the original village and then walked through. I met an elder who suggested I go to the community center and see what they were doing, getting ready for a cruise ship tour tomorrow. The ship is from Eastern Europe, coming across the Bering to the coast of Alaska and the islands.

I noted today during a screening that the child had more insight than her parents. That was interesting.

Seal Pups!

Otter Island in the background of the rookery.  The scaffolding is used to count seals each year, and for those doing research.  One must have a research permit or be an official seal counter in order to access these areas.  
Whilst on the way to the rookery blind facing the village, but down the beach from our quarters, I spied an old tree that had been uprooted.  Flowers were blooming from a crack near the base.

This was the first view of the baby seal pups!  They look a lot like little canine puppies only with flippers instead of legs.  They make a sound kind of like a baby calf or goat or puppy.  It is a cross between a whimper cry, and a baaahhh sound.


It was hard to believe there were this many babies crawling about when just a couple of days ago, they were none.  Seal pups--like other animals it seems--quickly adapt to required movement to manage the environment.  They scampered over rocks as if doing it forever.