It can be a long journey into civilization, and doubly so when your only connection in a sixty year old fishing troller. No matter the distance, Erik always looks forward to the journeys end. Either he would be at home with his latest haul from the cities bounty, or out seeking that bounty for later perusal. Now, tucked away in his hollow on the trollers bow, he was already fondly remembering the time he had gotten to spend with his classmates. Normally seeing each other only online in those brief sessions once or twice a week, a chance to romp and play with them was greatly treasured. That he had a haul of books and a game or two to entertain himself with back home was merely the icing on the cake. Mind you, he would have to meter out those treasures slowly, and not devour them with the hast he so wanted. It was difficult for the cub to do so, but the trips were so few and far between that his next fix would be a long time coming. And it might even be longer, if the pair had to deal with a sudden influx of visitors to their humble abode. 

Pausing his thoughts slightly, he turned his eyes from where the waves slapped against the prow of the boat, and over towards the wheelhouse, and the figure standing behind the wheel. Curling his lips slightly into a small grin, Erik studied the larger fellow. It might be slightly odd for a fisher to call a bear, Dad, but Erik was always proud to do so. For as much as the fisher cat might twit him about his advancing age, he knew that the powerful figure was as soft at heart as the old plush animals that now peered out from the half-hidden crannies of Erik's room. Behind that gruff exterior and black fur liberally tinged with white there lay the sort of person who would open home and arms to a cub not his own. Not that it mattered to Erik, to him he was just Dad.

Erik was shaken out of his revery, thoughts suddenly scattering like a flock of gulls when the eagle comes to visit, by the voice that suddenly boomed out from the wheelhouse. “Erik, we're coming up on a twin tow. You want to grab the glass and check it out?”

It was but the work of a few seconds for the fisher to scramble up the ladder to the boats roof, and work the binoculars out from their waterproof enclosure. Blinking  his eyes rapidly in a hope to adjust them  quicker, the fisher swivelled his head, hunting the blue waves as he sought the tow's features and followed the barges up to the squat tug beyond them. “Looks to be... teal and white?” The fisher paused, one hand lowering the binoculars even as his other hand sought the railing as a larger wave was broken by the prow. “That is Universal towing right? The barges are the Northern Star and the Northern Mule. I guess they are headed up to the Double B sawmill for a load of chips for Northern's pulp mill.” Pausing for breath, he turned his attention back to the tow, and tried to make out the name written on the stern of the tug. After a half minute the cubs snout curled into another grin, and dropping the glasses to fall around his neck, he swung down the ladder, and as paws hit deck he bolted into the wheelhouse. “It's the See Which!” He belted out. “Didn't Jacob get that one?”

Lucas smiled softly and nodded his great head once in acknowledgement. “I do believe you are correct, me boy. And that sounds like the kind of pun he would enjoy. Tell you what. Get the coho from this morning and stick it with a couple of the brew in a gunny sack. He always did enjoy my Salmon, but this time he'll be forced to cook it himself.” With his lips just slightly curling up at the corners, Lucas made a shooing motion with his hands and reached for the shortwave.

Erik left the cabin, ears catching the words of Lucas, “See Which, this is Grey Bear coming up on your tail. Jacob you son of a sea hog – you still on board?” The closing of the hatch cut off any reply as Erik hustled down to where they had stored this mornings catch. With it taking most of the day to make it back up the passage to home, dropping the rods in to see if anything was interested in biting was a good way to kill some of the time. If the current in the narrows was running strong, you could get even more fishing in. There was little that the experienced hand of Lucas was not capable of handling, but even he would balk at taking on the narrows with a strong current and a nasty cross wind. Waiting on the slack tide had given them an hour to jig in the nearby Tyee pool with some success.

As Erik grabbed the gunnysack and shoved some bottles of Lucas' finest into it, he smirked. Erik had won that impromptu fishing contest with flying colours. Lucas' fish was a really nice sized coho, which at ten pounds would have had pride of place on most dining room tables. Erik’s own contribution had stunned the cub when he finally managed to haul it it. Opening up the stern cooler, the cub smiled down at his catch. Somewhere in the vicinity of thirty pounds, the spring salmon was roughly half the cubs own weight and height. Erik could still feel some of the excitement and glee he had felt as he had fought the fish for twenty minutes, trying desperately to reel it in without having his fishing line snap in twain. 

In the end Erik had won the battle of exhaustion, but only just, and it had been up to Lucas to net the fish and haul it over the side. Erik had not even the strength left in his arms to hold the fish up for the customary picture, instead having to sprawl out next to it on the deck, a tired smile on his face as he looked at the camera. It had been Erik's first Tyee, a spring over the twenty pounds required to call it such. He had hooked smaller springs in the past, but this one was something special.  He had even earned a smattering of applause from the Tyee club members as they rowed the pool nearby in their boats. While he would not make the club, the Troller being far from the rowed boat, and his rig not being the required tack, they still had appreciated the good fight the cub had put in. Yes, a fish like this would make for good eating or even better fodder for the smoker.

Erik's mouth began to water as he thought of the smoked salmon that might be forthcoming, even as he dug past the fish for the Coho that was his goal. Carefully working it into the sack, he tied a clumsy knot in the end and staggered slightly as he swung the now cumbersome sack over his shoulder. By now he could clearly make out the great barges, riding high in the water. Carefully picking his way back up the deck, Erik braced himself as pushed open the door to the wheelhouse. 

Lucas gave the cub a grateful smile, and jerked his head in the direction of the upcoming tugs. “That's the stuff lad. We are going to have to tie it to the long line. Be sure to add one of the orange buoys to it. Even with the tows being empty we ought not to get close enough to toss. But I figure we can manoeuvre well enough to have em fish for it.” Lucas' mouth curled into a small grin. “Seems like they ought to do some of the work. We'll swing out in front and you fish the line out for them.”

With a nod of understanding, Erik headed to the stern to get to work. As he walked he could see the barges looming quite large now. He was able to see the places the paint has been marred by careless handling, and the stain of rust that clung around anything iron on the water. Feeling more then seeing the Troller change direction, Erik braced himself against the gunwale and barked with glee as the old fishing boat came over the large waves thrust out by the trailing barges. Rolling up and down them was more fun then a roller coaster, he reckoned, even if it was nowhere near as long. At at the slow pace the boat was going now, the rocking sensation was even more pronounced as you rode them rather then cut through them with the resounding, and almost painful smack that you got at high speed. That sort of thing could really stress a boat, and was very dangerous on waves such as these, so Lucas almost never did that to the boat or cub. Instead, he was almost like oil, carefully nudging the boat over the swell, to pick up his lost speed on the downward side.

By the time Erik had the gunnysack and buoy tied to the line, they were out to one side of the tugboat. At Erik's nod, Lucas cut in front of the boat and Erik played the long line out. It was almost anti-climatic as otter on the deck of the tug swung a gaff-hook down to fish the package from the water on the first try. With the bag untied, Erik was soon hauling the line back in hand over hand, water dripping off as he coiled it before returning the otters' friendly wave with one of his own. 

“Good job lad! Jacob says thanks.” Lucas' voice rang out as Erik turned to reenter the cabin space. “Give me a minute to get some space on this tow and I might even let you take the wheel for a spell. My paws could use a break, not to mention my bladder.”

It was shortly thereafter that Erik found himself behind the wheel of the boat, eyes sparkling as he peered into the distance. Lucas was nearby, fiddling with this and that as he kept a weather eye on his young charge, and another on any potential problems that might crop up. “That’s the way lad. Easy does it, and straight down the channel. A gentle hand will serve in most cases.”

Erik flicked his eyes away from the water for a moment and onto Lucas. Grinning broadly, he gave a quick nod in confirmation and turned his rapt attention back to the water in front of the boat. Eyes to compass binnacle, 312, check. Eyes to water, keeping an eye out for traffic or for junk in the water. Glance down to make sure he was still safely on the centre of the box that Lucas dragged over for him to stand on. Shift paws slightly, first on box to stay centred, second on wheel to relax his grasp. Eyes back to compass, and a slight nudge to the wheel to bring it back to course.

Erik was so involved in this little routine that he did not notice Lucas disappearing in the direction of the head, or his return slightly later with a fresh cup of coffee in hand to resume his position, leaning against the wall to watch his young charge, using said cup to hide his amusement at the cubs’ routine.

Several hours later Lucas was back at the wheel turning the wheel gently to adjust the course down the bay where home was located. The sun was slowly waning and had started to paint the sky in colours that seemed out of place in nature. Those same sun rays were dancing on the waters surface, seemingly ready to open a portal into infinity if one would let them. Those same rays were painted across the now sleeping cub where he lay sprawled on the bow of the boat, amidst his nest of ropes and lines. After Erik had surrendered the helm, the combination of a long hot day and the gentle rocking of the waves had lulled the cub to sleep. Not even the usual joys of waving to passing boats or the few early season hikers braving the old coastal lifesaving trail could keep the cubs’ eyelids at bay.

Lucas nudged the throttle back a notch as his keen eyes picked out the oncoming entrance to the long inlet that he and Erik called home. He was not quite close enough to see the cable for the hand tram over the channel, but as unlikely as it was in use at the late hour he would have to be careful to hit the centre of the channel in order to avoid it. With the tide slowly rising the wheelhouse would barely clear the wire. If someone was on the tram, he would have to stop and wait for them. But the beaches would also be getting covered with the rising tide, inundating those stretches of trail that relied on them. The advancing sunset also meant that most hikers would have set up for the night in one of the approved locations by now.

Taking a deep breath through his nose, Lucas sighed in appreciation as he took in the salty tang of the sea air, mixed with the ever so faint smell of woodsmoke, indicating that someone nearby had made good use of a camping site. Returning his attention to the ocean waves, Lucas began the gentle turn to line up with the channel markers he had setup when he had first come to this place. While the rising tide meant he might get away with not being in quite the deepest part of the channel, lining up the markers would make certain that not even the short aerial on the back of the wheelhouse would hit the trams’ wire. 

When he had worked the water, Lucas had met many a young fellow that would scoff at the teachings of their betters, and ignore the markers. It would come as a surprise to them then when they hit the unseen sandy shoals or reefs that the markers were there to help avoid. If the fellow was fortunate the boat would not be damaged. Lucas would either be able to tow them off the unseen hazard, or if occupied with a tow, inform the proper authorities of the situation. Mind you, Lucas was always hard pressed to suppress his smile at those times. Many a fellow would find themselves beached on a sandy shelf, waiting for the rising tide to float them off. Such lessons were mostly painless though, and better they learn them in that manner, then do something stupid and pay for them in blood later on. Lucas frowned at that thought and turned his attention back to the channels open waters.

It was an hour later when Lucas raised his voice, easily cutting through the much reduced thrum of the now idling motor of the troller. “Erik up an at them, lad! I need your help to come into the dock.” Even as he spoke, Lucas’s nimble fingers sought the toggle for the spotlights, mounted high up on the wheelhouses’ fore. Bright beams of light cut through the growing gloom of the nights air.

It was a somewhat bleary eyed fisher cub that manoeuvred the big boat-hook, catching hold of the rope cable that they had left ready for their return. Hauling it it, Erik braced his feet against the gunwale, and hauled with all his might, bringing the somewhat sodden rope over the bow, and slipping it tightly onto the cleat on the deck. Squinting up through the spotlights to the wheelhouse, Erik could barely make out the nod from Lucas. Even as he felt the old bear cut the motor, Erik had already turned his attention back to the dock in front of him. Stepping over the boats railing, he gathered himself and jumped the short leap onto the floating dock. It was only this year that Lucas had trusted him enough to let him do this, but the young fisher by now had not only proven his swimming ability to his older mentor, but also his ability to make that jump safely, even half-asleep as he still was. Gathering up the rear cable, he tossed the thinner leader line to Lucas who was now standing on deck, leaving him to haul in the stouter rope. 

Shortly the boat was quite secure, and the short gangplank setup. Turning towards the cub, Lucas stifled a smile as he noticed Erik unsuccessfully trying to quash a yawn. “Up to offloading the lot tonight lad, or do you want to just haul the perishables up tonight and leave the rest for the morning?”

Erik’s snout curled slightly in thought before he gave a faint shrug. “I’d rather leave the lot till the morning, dad.” A sheepish smile sneaked onto Erik’s face. “I’m tired...”

Lucas bobbed his head in return. “So be it then.” With that, he opened the door to the wheelhouse and shouldered a large bag tucked just inside. Indicating a smaller secondary bag with a jerk of his head, Lucas headed across the gangplank and down the floating dock towards the buildings half-hidden in the shadows.

It was a much more energetic pair the next morning that tackled the unloading of the supplies. While the larger items required the bulk of Lucas to manhandle them from the boat, Erik was just as busy. As Lucas brought up sacks of flour, oatmeal, rice and similar, Erik busied himself stacking the smaller boxes and cans around these bulkier items. Once a load was ready on the old green luggage cart they used, Erik could just manage to manoeuvre it down to the end of the dock, where just beyond a large storage shed stood to accept the bulk of the supplies. With the tide running high Erik's had no problem hauling the cart as it ran down the mostly flat surface of the floating dock. It was the ramp at the end that could cause problems. When the tide level dropped, and the dock followed it, the pitch of the ramp grew. With the tide out there was no way the cub would be able to power the cart up that steeply sloped ramp.  It he was not careful the cart would start rolling backwards and he would have to scramble out of the way. Scuffs of paint on the wood of the railings showed that this had happened more then once in the past. One unloading trip in the past had resulted in some supplies and one fisher cub in the drink. If the ramp was really bad, even Lucas would have trouble hauling the cart up. Lucas had been talking about installing a winch for those days, but they had yet to reach a consensus on the matter.

While waiting on Lucas to offload a bag of flour, Erik found himself looking over the water towards the large structure that was half slumped into the waves. Extending out on log pilings over the water, the wooden building was collapsing in on itself, the roof entirely caved in on one corner. Several of the wooden pilings had snapped, due to weather or age and this had only further exacerbated this damage. He was watching the waves toy with a section of collapsed roof when he was shaken out of his revery by the tones of Lucas. 

“I guess we will loose the rest of the gutting area this winter, don't you think? Damn shame. I figured it might have a few more years left yet, but that last storm this year really did a number on it.” A meaty paw idly tapped a rhythm on the railing as Lucas spoke. “Still, if it goes it will really relieve a lot of stress on the rest of the structure.” Lucas looked down at his young charge and smiled. “Can't have the entire thing going so quick. I know you'd miss seeing if anyone had left us any new sketches of the building. Or the company it brings.”

Erik snorted and shook his head ever so slightly. “I'd miss the drawings for sure Dad, but I'd not suffer for lack of company. I'd still have one grumpy old bear to keep me busy, and besides, it's not the only reason people take the side trail.”