Fishing in alaska

            Her reflection glistens off the cold Alaskan water and the sound of seagulls and jumping fish echo across the vast bay. Off in the distance the morning sky grows angry and thick at the horizon. The boat slowly rocks in the shelter of the wooded landscape. Ominous waves smash against the rocky coast.
             A fisherman sits on deck saying his morning prayer; his coffee stiffens and his cigarette burns slowly in the cold dawn air. The bay remains reasonably calm and peaceful even though the sky predicts chaos. The weathered net rests on the smooth wood covering the back deck and seems to be waiting for a frantic tug, pulling it into the icy water below.
             Inside the cabin fishermen were preparing for the day. Everyone remains quite and calm as they put on their boots and rain gear. Outside the water roughens. The massive anchor pulls from the sandy floor beneath. The boat sways violently as waves beat into the bow. The dry wood on the deck soaks up water, becoming slick. Fisherman frantically move about the boat, swearing and cussing at the irate sea. The wind blows harder and the waves mature into massive walls of water. Blackness covers the sky like a blanket. Yet, work continues.
             The boat waits in position with lines ready. Beneath the sea fish sense danger and begin to jump. The unconstrained skiff allows the nets to slide off the back of the boat. The fishermen scurry about as if actors on stage. Everyone knows their positions and keeps up in a fast paced blur. Shouts of anger and aggravation come from the top deck while the last of the net slips into the water and the lines tied off; Promptness and speed is of the essence.
             Below the untamed waves small slim bodies race to find refuge from the enclosing mesh. What seemed to be miles of Open Ocean became an accumulation of slimy fish. Light from above brightens and without warning a blast of artic air hit their scales. The net is cut and thousands of pounds of salmon fall on deck.