So with that, I set out. Twenty seconds later I sit at the slough watching snowmachines going by (all most likely going to the same place, but I was waiting for Helen). A couple snowmachines slow down and I squint to see if they might be Helen and her crew, but I can't tell so I wait. A while later a snowmachine comes back and drives a little closer, stops, then turns around and takes off. I decide to follow it guessing it is Helen.
Five minutes into my journey, I realize that I have no idea who I am really following. Everyone is so bundled up that I start to worry that I made a mistake and they might be wondering, who is this crazy kass'aq following us? My stomach tightens as I think back to my morning encounter.
Maybe I should have waited until Helen drove all the way up to me so I could have said "Waqaa. Good Morning! WHO are you?" That way I could have properly identified this snowmachiner who was driving quite aggressively. I was hoping it wasn't some random guy leading me into the wilderness (I wasn't really that scared, but the thought did cross my mind!). After many miles, the snowmachines slowed down and they uncovered their faces for a smoke break. To my relief, it was Helen's family. I forgot to compliment Helen on her aggressive driving skills.
We traveled through slough after slough and similar looking turns and trees. I was surprised to see so many abandoned fishing camps along the way. Each camp had one small house near the edge of the river. Helen told me later that fishing camps always moved around because the sand bars and land change every few years making fishing conditions constantly change.
Also while we were driving, a couple moose were trying to walk out onto the frozen water but their weight caused them to break through the ice as they did a sad little dance to get back to the embankment. After traveling about 30 miles upriver to a spot called ... (I'm trying to think of the name of their manaqing spot and all that's coming to mind is the Yu'pik word for "pants" which I doubt is it.) (I still need to get that name from someone...)
Instantly the guys got out their large augers, cranked up the engines, started drilling new holes, that I'm quite positive scared all the fish away. However, one guy let me know that in order for the fish to come and since I was a beginner I'd have to give a good luck fish dance. We referred to the Floppy Fish Dance all day long and I never did find the goofiness to actually get down on the ice and try the Floppy Fish Dance. Next time.
While fishing, they use short wooden poles with strings and a hook, drop them into the holes, and flick their wrist every so often. Within about 20 seconds of me parking my snowmachine I was handed a pole. I gave a few side glances to see the other ladies just standing their and jerking their wrist about every 4 seconds so I imitated their movements.
Out of the entire day only two people caught fish called Pike. They were both standing directly behind me (all the holes are only a couple feet apart). Both times, I didn't get to see how they actually went about getting the fish out of the hole because my back was to them. I started to wonder if my backside was beginning to be a good luck charm to anyone standing directly behind me.
They said that the fishing is usually much better, but I didn't mind because everyone was still having a good time visiting and "hooking."
I decided I had a couple tricks up my sleeve to increase my odds of getting a fish, but the fish didn't seem too entertained.
Two hooks at one time. Double the odds! My hooks never crossed. (Which also convinces me that maybe my holes didn't even reach through the ice and maybe I was really just trying to fish in an oversized test tube of an ice hole!)
My next trick was inspired after our lunch break when I realized that every species on earth loves food. So I decorated my hook with a brightly colored fruitsnack. "Here fishy fishy!"
Nope.
Next, I didn't want to insult the obvious carnivore fish, so I plunked on a nice juicy piece of reindeer sausage.
Still nothing.
Here is a picture of the guys who at one point were shooting at a Lynx. There was also a fox wandering around the area. It is nice to be around such wildlife!
Nora, an elderly woman who I secretly was charmed by. She lives in Emmonak, close to Alakanuk. Throughout the day some people would come and go while they drove from other manaqing spots or villages.
"Manaq"ing was fun and I definitely appreciated the experience!
Last night while I was in the process of posting this blog, I was inspired to start sketching with Charcoal. I tried to focus on charming Nora's face and part of her ruff. I'm not sure if I'll finish it or not, but I loved remembering her quiet sparkle that dances with her content smile.
