A Day in the Life of a Scow Girl

I would like to start by saying that there is no average day in the life if a scow girl (a fact I have finally learned after almost 3 weeks and countless questions). I have already written about the days of  waiting. These usually begin with waking up casually when my body tells me to. I enjoy those mornings, but struggle with the cabin fever and I tend not to be the most patient person. Especially when it involves waiting until 10:30pm, when we are allowed to scrub and close down shop. Lately I have taken to watching our resident bear comb the beach (the very close beach). Today, I named him Paddington.

And then there are those other days...

They tend to begin by waking up to my roomies/coworkers/buddies stomping around because there's a boat outside. This causes a panicked rush to put on some fish clothes and hop downstairs and greet fishermen who have been up far longer than I have. Someone is given the all important task of brewing coffee while the other two shove food in their faces and start pitching fish. I am given three choices for jobs: pusher, grader, and icer. As pusher I slide fish up the tray to the grader, who tells me what type of salmon they are looking for. Generally this is small Coho, meaning anything below seven pounds. I'm proud of my new ability to recognize the difference and am accurate within a half pound. I actually get kind of excited about this job because I get to rush around and take on other tasks as well. Graders are next in line, weighing the fish that come down the line and passing them onto the icer, who is given the all important job of throwing fish in totes, chopping ice, and icing the bellies of so many fish. Some of which are poisonous and pokey. This role tends to be competing with the pusher and grader in a hectic race to keep the tray clean. Now...do all of this for 18 hours.  And then remember that it will never be that smooth because nothing here is normal. Generators break down, you run out of propane (which heats your water, allows you to cook, and do laundry), there is an ice shortage, people get sick...or the line on your hoist comes dangerously close to breaking. At several points throughout the day you utilize what my friend has aptly named an Emergency Dance Party and bust a move to the playlist you have been listening to for the last 19 days because the satellite radio doesn't work. These dance parties are made all the more special when covered in fish scales, sweat, fish blood, your blood, and slime. Best dance club ever!

At the end of the day, when you don't care that you just splashed yourself in the face with bleach water, you patiently wait for fishermen and deck hands to finish using the shower so you can scrub clean and feel refreshed until it all starts again in 5 hours.