INTRODUCTION:
We are delighted to introduce you to a new series in the NESTER written by Carole Gibb. In these excerpts from her memoir FISHING FOR COURAGE. Carole writes letters to her sister, Mary, describing new experiences fishing and living in Southeastern Alaska’s outer coast and her response to them. Her descriptions of being new to Alaska life are vivid, honest, and often quite funny!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Carole Gibb (née Healy) has taken the buffet approach to work. A scoop of this, a dab of that, with seconds and even thirds on the favorites. Writing work is definitely a favorite. She’s been a staff writer for the Juneau Empire, an editor with Alaska’s state wildlife bureau, and has contributed essays to the public radio program AK. Her articles have also appeared in the Chicago Tribune, Today’s Chicago Woman, and the Washington Post.
She is currently working on her next book.
LETTERS FROM ALASKA
Carole Gibb
Dear Mary,
Logged eighteen hours on the ocean today, but somehow we managed to catch only forty-one silvers. Each fish earns us under three dollars, so you can imagine the disappointment.
. . .Fishing will improve, I’m sure. And meanwhile the ocean provides some good 
entertainment. This morning, I cleaned a salmon and there was a little fish inside, wiggling with indignation—apparently just swallowed. I scooped it overboard and watched it hurry away. I can see the little guy catching up with his buddies and saying, You’re not going to believe what just happened.
Then we had a humpback whale surface fairly close to the boat. Massive, I thought, when I saw it. Seeing all that latent power gliding along so smooth made my entire body tingle. But then it angled toward us and dove, and the tingles 
changed to a crawly feeling on the back of my neck, since it looked like it might pass under the boat.
We turned to give it some room, but even so it 
resurfaced uncomfortably close. It came up and blew, whooooosh—and the misty breath floated right onto me.
Cool, you might think. Well, think again, because it smelled putrid. Somebody should tell that whale to brush its baleen!
. . .
Today, we quit around ten p.m. and charged to one of the little semi-protected indents that dot the Gulf of 
Alaska coast. Charging means going top speed, but a troller’s top speed is only about eight knots (a hair over eight mph), so it’s not like restraint harnesses are required.
. . .
Glad to be off duty, I played with the dog, Fidget, tossing a carrot around the deck for her to fetch. She’s a graceful dog, with a silky black body and a tan face, chest, and legs. Tom recently rescued her from the pound and though I’ve never been around dogs much, or even cared to be, she’s pretty sweet.
Ocean-caught fish for dinner. You’d think eating so much fish would get boring, but it’s gorgeous 
food and my body seems to know it. I’ll go further and confess that eating wild fish makes me feel sort of wild myself, inside. Fidget chases her tail out of sheer giddy happiness, and sometimes Mary, I swear I feel like doing the same.
Okay, my eyelids are drooping. I’ll write more later!
xxoo
Carole.
Stay tuned for the next installment of LETTERS FROM ALASKA, as Carole reflects on her deck hand experiences.
Photo Credits: Carole Gibb & NESTER Alaska collection
Thank you Carole for putting a smile on my face and re stirring my memories of the fishing days; look forward to reading fishing for courage the second time around, thanks Tim and Lorelie for sharing this with us.
Yay! Glad it stirred some memories for you. It does for me, too. Wild and, interesting times on those waters, right?
Enjoyed! Especially good distraction as I am now 1hr and 6min on hold with DISH as I attempt to cut loose from this big “fish”.
So glad you enjoyed! Looking forward to crossing paths again some time!