Excursion Inlet

Ever since coming back from Vegas and seeing Adam again, I have thought of Alaska alot. My two summers up there working as a microbiologist at the cannery has created mountains worth of memories and lessons. It was here, that I truly believe, my full self came to be. I realised a lot of things in Alaska. The most important thing I learnt is that, life is a whole lot of grey areas and it makes life easier when we accept that there are three shades and it's not just black or white.

An aerial view of Excursion Inlet, accessible only by small planes and ships/boats.

The inlet was surrounded by foreboding mountains and whales.

I remember the long days that bleed into mornings. At our busiest part of the season, I would start work at 5am and work till 3am the next day. We had 10 minute breaks every 3 hours and while I must admit, I had the most cushy job (being in a dry lab and listening to music with a lab assistant helping me to retrieve samples) but I mostly loved being out on the floor, helping out processing. (I worked with the caviar department) 20 odd hour days are long and boring when it's spent by yourself in a tiny lab repeating a procedure over and over again. When I could, I would go help out the salt lab which is a hectic lab because it is directly linked to the curing process of the caviar. The salt lab tests each batch of caviar for how salty it is and each batch are then noted and will be mixed with another less/more salty batch to balance. In the salt lab, you had people to talk to, you were in control of the music played to the processors (Mexican music and then English music) and most of all, you get to mingle with the floor processors when you went to get your samples.

Here, I realised how much I loved being needed, being part of a clock work.

Everything about that place was cold. Wet. Metal. We wore gum boots all day long and I sweated so much that fluid built up in my toes and put so much pressure on my nerves that I could not feel my toes for 2 months straight. I find it hard to explain to anyone else about working up in Alaska in a cannery. It is almost impossible to translate the friendships and hardships that I had endured and welcomed there. Thus, I think the bond that Adam, Kimmy and I have is extraordinary because of this. My thoughts of Alaska always flutter from here and there because there is just too much of it. It is hard to ground them down and they all have to be relived in small parts. They always result in nostalgic smiles. (Despite all the long hours, hard work and upsetting events at times)

Adam and Kimmy resting on the dock, one of our many 10 minute breaks

One white mormon guy, one Zunie and Chinese girl, inseperable

I've seen things I never thought I would imagine seeing. I felt a bald eagle fly past me and perch himself at the dock post 2 meters away from me as I ate my cookie. I fed a piece of small potatoe to a baby bear underneath our dorm rooms. I jumped 30 feet from the dock into the glacial waters filled with jelly fish to wake myself up after 15 hours of work. I saw a friend's eye lid rip off from a spontaneous fight (mexican guys are notorious for starting fights when they're drinking) and chairs and tables being thrown with random party goers starting to fight each other. Seeing a real halibut, the incredible size of those beasts. No wonder they're all fillets! Drank whiskey in a WW1 cabin covered in moss with a huge fireplace where I was mesmerized by the steam dancing out of my wet clothes.

Sometimes, I wish I could go back there with all the people I met and I know it is silly to wish it because without the people, the place is not the same.